ion like Brighton and Saratoga.
She owes no part of her fortune to having been made a free port, like Livorno, or to her having taken the fancy of a Caesar, like Madrid.
Her growth is natural.
Accidental growth is seen in many towns.
A railway bridge secures prosperity to Omaha; a line of docks makes Birkenhead; a spring of oiless parochial, and more of her chief citizens, both civil and military, find their interest in living near the Emperor's court.
Yet in Berlin, as in Washington, Madrid, and other artificial capitals, the limit of this accidental growth must soon be reached.
Berlin is not, like London and like Philadelphia, a great commercial centre, with a port sufficiently near the sea for purpose of trade.
Berlin is land-locked, like Madrid.
Few things are more certain than that the future capitals of the world will stand on both elements, accessible, as Constantine said of Byzantium, by sea and land.
We hear so rarely of this silently-growing city on the Delaware