I saw the capital city of Imperial Germany in the early morning from an elevated railroad depot, on Friedrich-Strasse. After having washed the dust from my eyes, and given twenty-five cents for so doing, I took a look at my strange surroundings. To see this city had been a dream of childhood. The roofs decorated with statuary and symbols, the clean asphalt pavement, the peculiar architecture of the buildings, the silent way of doing the city work, and the subdued, even tread of companies of soldiers going to morning parade, keenly excited my curiosity. I was satisfied even to look over the city which held the greatest ruler and the grandest man—Virchow—the father of cellular pathology.
The unexpected greetings of long ago friends, known as college chums, and the reminiscences of college life, made me feel kindly towards the whole German nation and at home at once. The friendly reception