If we could fly some hundreds of miles straight up into the air and had such sharp eyes that we could perceive all the coasts and boundaries of Europe, and plainly distinguish the fine lines of the railways, we should also see small, dark, short forms running backwards and forwards along them. We should see, as it were, a teeming ant-hill, and after every ant we should see a small puff of smoke. In Scandinavia and Russia the bustle would seem less lively, but in the centre of Europe the ants would scurry about with terrible activity. Whether it was winter or summer, day or night, the bustle would never grow less. From our elevated point of view we should see innumerable trains flying in the night like glow-worms in every direction. Ceaselessly they rush between cities and states, between the sea-coast and the inland districts, and to and from the heart of Europe. For during the last twenty years Berlin has become the heart of Europe. London is situated on an island, and Paris is too near the margin of the Continent. But in Berlin several of the greatest railway routes meet, and whether the traveller goes from Paris to St. Petersburg, from Stockholm to Rome, or from Hamburg to Vienna, he has always to pass through Berlin. In the city which is "the heart of Europe" we must expect to find the main thoroughfares crowded with foot-passengers of all nationalities, and vehicles of every conceivable kind--motor cars, electric trams, horse omnibuses, vans, cabs, carts, and so on. Yet in spite of their endless streams of traffic, the streets of Berlin are not noisy--not nearly so noisy as those of Stockholm--for they are paved with asphalt and wood, and most of the conveyances have rubber tyres on their wheels. As in other large cities, the streets are relieved of a great deal of traffic by trains which run right through the town and round its suburbs, either up in the air on viaducts, or underground in tunnels lighted by electricity. At the Frederick Street Station of the City Railway, which lies in the centre of the town, a train arrives or departs every other minute of the day and of a good part of the night as well. Not far off is a square--the "King's Place"--where a monument to commemorate the victory of the Germans over the French, in 1871, lifts its spire above the city, with three rows of cannon captured in France in its recesses. Close at hand, too, are the shady walks in the "Tiergarten" (Park), where all Berlin is wont to enjoy itself on Sundays. When we turn eastwards, we have to pass through a great colonnade, the Brandenburg Gate, with Doric pillars supporting the four-horsed chariot of the goddess of victory in beaten copper. Here the German army entered Berlin after the conquest of France and the founding of the German Empire.