One of the guests, a diplomatist, of Mephistophelian aspect and
species, took advantage of it to turn the conversation. One of the
eternally repeated trifles of the day--a so-called piece of news that
must be repeated to the prince--was skilfully used as a
stepping-stone; and in ten minutes, the whole table was alive with a
dispute between the spokesman and another person who had contradicted
him on a most important point--what "aurora" signified in the slang of
the Roman coffeehouses, whether a mixture of chocolate with coffee or
not. Niebuhr was silent. At last, with quiet earnestness and
dignified mien, he spoke these words: "What heavy chastisements must
be still in store for us, when, in such times, and with such events
still occurring around us, we can be entertained with such miserable
trifles!" All were mute, and Niebuhr also. A long pause ensued; and
the mysteries of the Caffe Nuovo were not mentioned again that day.'

The life which Niebuhr led after returning to Germany, was not
remarkable as to incident, but it abounded in useful and noble
pursuit. He still shunned Berlin; and, on the whole, the university of
Bonn appeared to him as the best and most suitable residence for the
family, now consisting of five children. He did not take any actual
professorship, but he lectured and he wrote. Here he became the centre
of a circle of the highest minds of Germany. All prized him; all,
young and old, felt the benefit of his presence, his labours, and
example. He regularly worked at the history of Rome; but he cultivated
his garden, taught and played with his children, and built himself a
house. The time was not all passed at Bonn; in 1829, the family
visited Holstein and Mme Hensler. A twelve years' absence had produced
many alterations, but the love of country and early home was wrought
into Niebuhr's heart, and he enjoyed this renewal of youth. A sad
calamity, however, awaited him at Bonn. On the night of February the
6th 1830, the new house he had built with such pleasure and care, was
burnt completely down. Very little could be saved--excepting, indeed,
that the books, being the first object to which his neighbours were
attracted when the family were rescued, were for the most part
preserved, and also the manuscript of the second volume of his Roman
history. The whole correspondence with his father, and many other
letters and papers, were destroyed.

This event, though a great shock, he bore with much calmness,