ornament of the chamber in which he died is a very good portrait of Gustavus Adolphus, said to have been a great favourite of Frederic, and a correct likeness of the heroic king. The bed has been removed, which has given great umbrage to the Prussians, together with the arm-chair in which he breathed his last, after a long reign of forty-six years; and, although at the advanced age of seventy-five, he retained his intellect so perfectly, as to be able to transact public business the day he died. How serenely tranquil must have been the dying hour of the royal philosopher, who, after a whole life of storm and strife, saw his country prosperous, his people happy, and his sceptre ready to pass undisputed into the hands of his successor. fortunate were his last moments compared with those of other brilliant meteors, who have astonished the world by their great military talents! Julius Cæsar perished by the stiletto of a friend; Gustavus Adolphus on the battle-field of Lützen received his death blow from the treacherous hand of one of his own officers, the Duke of Lauenburg: and the ambitious scourge of Europe, expired chained to a barren rock, the captive of the nation he hated, far from the country he had adopted, from the people he had ruled.

How

With the exception of Potsdam, the environs of Berlin offer little to interest a stranger. The Tivoli is the favourite resort of the beau-monde, that is, of all well dressed people who can afford to pay three silver groschens (four-pence) for permission to enter. This little tax has certainly the effect of rendering the company select, for the royal family

and the élite of the capital do not scruple to visit it; and, as the road thither is bounded by an arid waste, the contrast is the more pleasing. On ascending a small eminence, the traveller finds himself in a prettily laid out pleasure ground, filled with the gay and fashionable, promenading, or taking refreshment under elegant painted marquees. Fairy-like cars invite him to descend the Montagnes Russe, or, if he prefers ascending to the ball-room, he will find it blooming with flowers, and filled with singing-birds, and at the same time, he may contemplate the sylphlike figures of the fair dancers, as they whirl through the giddy mazes of the waltz, enlivened by the strains of a fine band of military music; while in the other saloons, if his benevolence should induce him to labour for the amusement of the company, he will find harps and piano-fortes in abundance. At stated periods, the gardens are brilliantly illuminated, and superb fire-works are occasionally exhibited.

On leaving the Tivoli gardens, we can also contemplate the Volks-Denkmahl (monument of the people), perched upon a sandy hillock. But why so popular a monument, erected by a monarch to perpetuate the valour of his people, in defending their country from foreign aggression, was placed outside the walls of the city, in a dreary wilderness, is a question I cannot solve. The Constitutionalist tells us, that his majesty's gratitude having evaporated after the peace, he exiled it, in order that he might not behold an object which always reminded him that he owed his throne to his subjects! And, although the first impression produced on view

ing it, gives one the idea of a colossal toy, yet, we cannot but think, that it would have found a more appropriate situation in any of the deserted squares of the capital. It is a lofty Gothic tabernacle, surmounted by a cross, bristled with pinnacles, and pierced with niches, entirely constructed of cast-iron,-each of its twelve niches being adorned by a bas-relief, representing a battle gained by Prussian valour, during the late war, and filled with a statue, intended to be emblematical of some distinguished Prussian warrior; however, most of them are portraits of different members of the royal family! but that of Katzbach is filled most appropriately by the gallant Blucher. Many of the statues have been modelled by M. Rauch, and admirably executed; but, from the want of simplicity and dignity in the whole, it finds but few admirers.

The "Thiergarten" (Zoological Gardens) is, however, the pride of Berlin, the great public promenade. The origin of its name is, as the antiquarian would say, wrapped in the obscurity of by-gone times; for not even the shadow of an animal could I descry, save some fourfooted favourite trotting after one of the ancient dames of Berlin. Having thus, patient reader, told thee what it is not, I will proceed to tell thee what it is: behold, then, a gloomy, damp, low, and unhealthy park, from which the cheering rays of the sun are excluded by the dense foliage of dark pines, diversified by stagnant ponds, emitting in summer the most insalubrious vapours; and, instead of grass or gravel, the visiter wanders over a bed of sand, which being never watered, except by the dews of heaven, scatters

itself, without distinction, over carriages and horses, pedestrians and equestrians. It has, to be sure, a pavilion, belonging to one of the king's sons, misnamed the "Belle-vue,"-the principal feature in the prospect being the lazy Spree, as it slowly winds its course towards the Havel.

CHAPTER V.

An unexpected rencontre-Departure for Warsaw-Province of Neumark -Prussian postillions-Custrin-Zorndorf-Landsberg-Posen-Table d'hôte-Russian frontier-Poland-Aspect of the country-Condition of the people-Warsaw-Society-State of public feeling-Return to

Posen-Plica-Ophthalmia.

ALTHOUGH I consider it an impertinence to intrude affairs merely personal on the attention of the reader, unless they tend in some way to illustrate national manners and peculiarities, yet, as the following circumstance had the effect of causing a considerable deviation from my intended route, I shall make no further apology for inserting my little episode. During my séjour at Berlin, I was agreeably surprised to meet with a much esteemed relative; but what motive could have induced him at his time of life, for he had already descended into its autumn, to brave the inconveniences of travelling, was to me a riddle, for I knew he was not partial to foreign countries, and rarely moved from home, even in his own. However, a rencontre with an old friend is always agreeable, and while chatting over the scenes of by-gone days, his servant came to solicit his commands, but, if my