on his way, watched the old man bury himself in the deep ravines of the mountain side; and when he lost sight of him, he could hear his clear musical voice singing the psalm repeated by the martyrs of the Reformation when they marched to the stake: "Behold the happy day!" voking certainty: the more difficult the road became the more he quickened his pace, crossing crevasses, climbing rocks, or descending icy ravines with a kind of disdain. Ulrich, who at first followed silently, wondered where this wild course would lead to, and asked who could hope to find chamois Inspirited by the sound, the young sculp-on the ocean of ice which surrounded them. tor hastened his steps. The summer chalets on the lower stages of the mountain were nearly buried under their shroud of snow; soon even the stunted pines disappeared, and at length he reached the defile which his uncle had described to him-a deep tunnel in the rock, where the sun could never penetrate. He was on the point of entering, when a dark shadow rose before him, and he recognized his cousin Hans. His face was even more gloomy than usual, as he stood in the centre of the path; and Ulrich could not repress an exclamation of surprise. "You here, Hans! How did you get here ?" "Is there but one path in the Wengern Alp?" he asked, coldly. "And what are you doing here?" "I came to see you: I was waiting for you." "You have something to say to me?" "Are you not going to seek the chamois my uncle saw yesterday ? " "Certainly." "You will not find them. I have just seen the traces they are gone to the glaciers." 'Well, I shall follow them in that direction." "You are determined ? " "Why not?" "Then we will hunt together," said Hans. It was the first time that Ulrich had received such an invitation, and he looked surprised. "Are you afraid of my company?" asked Hans, roughly. 66 Why should I fear it? "Who knows? Perhaps you think you may have to follow me too far and too long." "On my life, I have not thought so?" said Ulrich, proudly. "Although you are a better hunter than I, I fancy I can go where you go!" "Let us set out then." Hans began to climb, and the hunters soon found themselves at the entrance of those tremendous glaciers which stretch away for near a hundred and fifty leagues. Here was the Mer-Glacée of Grindelwald and Aletsch; still further, those of Viescher, Finster, Arr, Lauter, and Gauli. Hans studied the different directions, then, without saying a word, struck to the south. His step had a feverish rapidity and a pro Hans contented himself with replying: "Still further," and pointing to the horizon. Other glaciers were crossed, other moraines climbed; and to every fresh question the furious hunter replied, "Still further!" At length they reached a terrace formed at the side of a yawning gulf. The young sculptor then stopped nearly breathless, and wiped his wet brow. Hans turned round. Nothing about him indicated this long walk; his face was pale, his step as quick, his breathing as free as ever. 'Well, bold hunter, are you at the end of your strength?" said he mockingly. "Not yet; though you seem determined to try my powers to the utmost." "Why have you taken up your rifle again?" asked Hans abruptly. Ulrich seemed embarrassed. "for "I was obliged," said he rising, a reason which you will know in time. Let us go now." "No, stop! I have no need to wait to know all you can tell me. You have begun hunting again because it is the only way to obtain Freneli, and you love her." "It is true," said Ulrich. "Is it to ask me this that you waited in the Wengern Alp, and led me as far as here ?" "So you avow it," said Hans with compressed lips; "and yet you know that I have also chosen Neli for my wife; say, are you ignorant of that ?” "No: but as Neli is free our wishes are nothing she alone shall choose." "And you know she has done so already: you have profited by your advantages to turn her heart to yourself. I have only suffered in silence; I only brought black bread to the house, whilst you came with your carvings. But you cannot suppose that I shall let you rob me of my happiness without revenge?" "What do you mean?" interrupted Ulrich, shuddering. Hans seized his arm. "Listen! I wished to speak to you where no one could interrupt us: understand what I say. I will have Neli-I will, whatever happens! and if any one dare to take her from me I will kill him, even were he my friend or my brother! It is six years since I married Neli in my mind; I have carried this idea with me into the mountain to keep me company; and I have talked with her, and found rest and pleasure | tains of snow, formed during the winter, fell in her; believe me, do not cross my hopes, into ruins, and their overthrow closed up or some evil will happen to you." "What you have just said does not come from yourself, cousin, but from the Evil Spirit which tempts you, and speaks in your place. Leave God to direct all things: who knows but he will soon do what you demand. You know the condition by which to obtain Freneli: in each trying to fulfil it, one of us may meet the fate reserved for all the Hausers, and leave the place free to the other." Hans fixed his flaming eyes on Ulrich. "And this other- -you hope may be yourself!" Ulrich shook his head. "You know that all the chances are against me, and I only should have a right to complain if I did not count on the help of Him who is above all." "But when, think you, will he decide between us?" "At this moment, perhaps," interrupted the carver, who for some moments had been listening to the rising wind and increasing darkness. "Thy anger has made thee blind and deaf, but look around and listen." He pointed to the south. "On my salvation," said Hans," you have spoken like a prophet; your prediction will be accomplished, for the fahn is coming. Do you feel this hot wind? Do you see those clouds of fog gathering below? In a few moments it will be here; you wished God to decide between us. He has heard you; he who can descend to the Enge shall have Neli. Adieu! take care of your life; I am going to try and save mine." one or other of the roads. Ulrich sought an outlet in vain: here a cascade stopped up the ledge on which he was advancing; there an avalanche buried the passage; to the right an arch gave way; to the left a fissure suddenly opened. Everywhere the crashing of the ice, the furious gusts of wind, the thunders of the avalanche, the roaring of the unbridled waters, and above all this chaos, night rapidly drew on to take away his last hope. Still he struggled; the thought of Freneli gave him a desire to live, which increased his strength. Unhappily he knew not where he was, and stopping to recognize the nearest peaks, a fearful noise resounded from the depths of the glacier, and at the same moment he staggered; the glacier trembled under his feet. Soon a second shock threw him down; then others succeeded, and he could no longer hide from himself the fact that the glacier was in motion and descending towards the valley. Knowing that the least delay was a question of life or death, the young man set off to gain some firm resting place. He had nearly reached the edge of this frozen river, and crossed many a bridge of snow without suspecting it, when in a moment the footing gave way, and he had only time to throw out his arms to hold himself up, ere he was buried up to the waist. It was a moment of the deepest anxiety: holding his breath and immovable, he remained some seconds in the same attitude, then stretched out his hand to reach his rifle, hoping to use it as a support, but the softened snow yielded to the pressure, and he disappeared in the abyss. * * Without waiting a reply, Hans ran to the narrowest part of the crevasse and jumped across. Ulrich tried in vain to recall him, The next day the fahn had ceased to blow, he was soon out of sight. The latter having but its effects might be traced in the disapno power to cross the fissure, took his way pearance of the snow from the heights, and back to the glacier, instead of gaining the the swollen torrents which were rushing into heights, where the south wind is less felt, the valleys. Having taken refuge on one of and descended towards the Wengern Alp as the highest peaks, Uncle Job had passed the quickly as possible; but the snow was begin-night in safety, and was tranquilly descendning to thaw, the clouds advanced rapidly, ing to the slopes, when his curiosity was already the near peaks had disappeared, and aroused by the alteration in the position of the fahn arrived in all its violence. Carried the glacier in which Ulrich lay buried. Adaway by its gusts, he continued the oblique vancing with precaution over the frozen surdescent of the glacier, busied only in avoiding the crevasses which would have swallowed him up, and thus reached a hollow, where, sheltered from the wind he could lie down and take breath. When he rose the fog had cleared away, but his road became more and more difficult: the thaw was rapidly proceeding; streams increased to torrents, were rolling down the mountains and uniting themselves to other raging waters. From time to time moun face, he perceived the crevasses here closed, there enlarged, and bridges of snow fallen in all parts. Near one of these bridges he perceived, half-buried in the snow, an object to which at the first moment he did not attach much importance; but hardly had he touched it before he recognized with a wild cry, Ulrich's rifle. He turned full of fear to the yawning chasm, where footsteps might still be traced, and the spot where the fall took place. He knelt down, and putting his head to the opening, shouted loudly. There rapidly that they must be pursued. After was no reply: a second and a third shout followed. After the last some confused sounds were heard. He rose quickly, unrolled his cord, and having fixed it in the ice, dropped it into the fissure. For a long time it hung floating; again he renewed his shouts at last it seemed as if the cord moved. Suddenly the oscillation ceased, he who was ascending stopped. 66 Courage!" cried Uncle Job; "another effort!" Still it was immovable. "Come, it is I, Ulrich! God has brought me to your assistance; help yourself, my son, if you will see Trina and Neli again." The cord moved again, and after many attempts, a head rose above the chasm: to every hair hung an icicle, and the face was frozen. To see the automaton-like movement you might have fancied it a corpse galvanized by some magical incantation, without voice or sense. The old mountaineer uttered an exclamation of joy, and seeking his gourd, he poured some drops of brandy into the young man's mouth, rubbing him vigorously with snow. "Thanks to God and to you!" murmured Ulrich at length, beginning to yield to the sleepy languor of fatigue and cold. "All in good time," interrupted Job; "but stand up and move about." "Not yet-after a while." And Ulrich closed his eyes. "There will be no time afterwards-get up, strength will come in walking, and we will rest at the first chalet. If you stop here you are a dead man; stand up there is life at stake." another search they recognized Hans on the cornice of a rock which overlooked them. He was bounding from rock to rock in a kind of wild delirium, seeing nothing but his prey; and having got a few steps in advance of the emperor, jumped on the last point of rock separated by the cornice. The chamois passed at his feet, he fired, and the emperor fell. The hunter uttered a cry of victory which might be heard by those watching him; but as he raised himself, the kind of bracket on which his foot rested gave way, he stretched out his arms to save himself. It was too late-his hands slipped over the icy rocks, and bounding from point to point, fell broken to pieces twenty paces from the chamois he had just shot. Some hours after, they brought the disfigured body of Hans to the chalet. Trina, who had heard of the accident before from Uncle Job, received the bier at the door. She looked for some time at the dead, wringing her hands in wild grief. "Another," she murmured; "but it was to be Like Neli's father, he had seen the chamois d'égarement it was a warningthe Spirit of the Mountain is too strong at this moment: the last of the Hausers is to be laid under the earth." She watched by the bedside, speechless, and refusing comfort until the funeral day. The inhabitants of the valley came in crowds to pay the last homage to the remains of the hunter. His body was stretched on a bier made of branches, his head resting on the chamois which had cost him his life. Behind came the haggard face of the grandmother, with Ulrich and Neli in tears. The loss of Hans was a shock from which Trina never recovered. She became weaker and weaker, and after a few months her last He dragged his nephew on towards the edge of the glacier, tottering, his head drooping, his eyes closed. His blood at length began to circulate, and he described his fall and long agony in the abyss. He then in-hour arrived. She died, her eyes fixed on quired: the dark cupboard, which had been opened at her request, and where the horns of the last chamois killed by Hans had been placed with the rest. Henceforth alone and mistress of her fate, Freneli became the wife of Ulrich, and went with him to Meyringen, where Uncle Job soon joined them. Whoever crosses the valley of Hasli, or the heights of the Brunig and Great Sheideck, is pretty sure to meet the indefatigable seeker of crystals, singing the old psalm tunes, whilst the rolling of the cascades and the noise of the falling avalanche accompany him like an immense.organ. C. RUSSELL. From The Christian Observer. MEMOIRS OF THE QUEENS OF PRUSSIA. Memoirs of the Queens of Prussia. By E. W. W. Kent & Co. Atkinson. One Vol. 8vo. 1858. ENGLAND has a national interest in the history of Prussia. It is not yet two years ago since she consigned to the heir apparent of the Prussian throne the princess royal of England; and from the affectionate interest which the nation took in the event, it seemed as if each family was sending forth the first and best-beloved of their daughters, and were following her with the tearful interest of a family. The rough sailors, who parted from the princess at Gravesend with moist eyes, and bade her husband tend her carefully and treat her well, on pain of their displeasure, expressed the national desire that her future fortunes among a strange people might be as happy as her childhood. Nor was it without anxiety that, amidst many omens of happiness, the nation, who had watched her youth, and rejoiced in her opening promise, saw her transplanted into a foreign continental court. He who is on the throne of an absolute government, or stands on its steps, is not likely to be left untried. Nor is the history of any despotic country without its warning, that the most favorable promise of princes may be blighted by the intrigues of those who would rise to power through the weakness of the sovereign. The kingdom of Prussia only dates from the beginning of the last century; yet, though no long line of kings has occupied the throne, the fate of their consorts has not been enviable. Two of the Prussian sovereigns, the second and the fifth, made the life of their consorts unhappy by their vices. The temper of the third king, who, with some estimable qualities, had a roughness which amounted to mania, has been made familiar to us in Mr. Carlisle's history. The queen of his celebrated successor, Frederick the Great, was a princess of Brunswick Bevern, and was forced upon the prince by the peremptory commands of his father. He discovered, indeed, under the shyness of her first appearance, occasioned by circumstances so unfavorable, a mind worthy of esteem and a heart full of affection. It was not her fault that she was thoroughly loved; and, indeed, during the few years spent by the crown prince and her at Rheinsberg, in the literary retirement which Frederick affected, there was an interval of domestic union which rendered more trying the estrangement of later years. Nor was this estrangement due to the wife. She raised herself to be the worthy partner of her husband. His love was the spell which developed her faculties. From an untaught girl she grew into the matured and intelligent woman. She became versed in the literary subjects which occupied Frederick. She read and thought and listened. With a woman's tact, she penetrated the character of the men who frequented the prince's society; and, while Frederick was bandying flattery with Voltaire, his princess detected the baseness which lurked under that French polish of wit and genius. But while her position was apparently strong, and her husband's esteem manifest, the loving heart discovered that there was no return to her deep affection. It does not appear that Frederick was naturally heartless; his feeling towards both his parents refutes this. But he had entered on two courses of life which are sure to blunt affection, and to harden the heart. He threw off belief in Christianity, and he allowed himself the free indulgence of vice. Sadly in his later years, when the contrast of old Ziethen's piety was presented to him, did he confess his error and repent it; but he said it was then too late to change. The affection of a true-hearted wife was neglected, till he left himself morose, sullen, and dissatisfied, to pass his old age in the company of his dogs; with many admirers, but with scarce a friend. The affection, indeed, from which he isolated himself, remained on the part of his wife, invariably true. The prince of her young affection remained throughout her life the idol of her heart. All his chilling coldness, his neglect of his wife, while he paid attention to his mother and sisters; her seclusion, left solitary in the capital while Frederick gathered his family round him at Rheinsberg; his indifference to her feelings when she lost her favorite brother in his wars; his determination not to confide to her either his pleasures or his sorrows; his court at Charlottenburg, where his queen was only suffered to spend the day, and had to return at night to Berlin; - these things, hard as they were, could not shake an affection which was fixed. In defeat, as in victory, when she was a fugitive from the capital, or when she welcomed her husband's return as conqueror; surrounded at times with a blaze of state; admired for her beauty; reviewing by the side of her husband his gallant troops, and partaking of his triumphs with an exulting people; or when she had to melt down the silver ornaments of the palace to send her husband supplies; and when she fled to Magdeburg, while the enemy laid waste her summer retreats,- Elizabeth Christina remained the same simple, carnest, and faithful woman. In the year 1747, we find her writing to her brother: "I can now write with a more tranquil heart that I did; for, God be praised, our dear king is again better, and out of all danger; he has been very ill, and I have suffered a thousand inquietudes. If I had dared, I should have unhappy union was committed by Frederick gone to Potsdam myself to see him." Again to his queen, and by her was brought up with she says: "I have received a most obliging tender care. The child requited this with and gracious letter from the dear master, apol- the strongest affection; and her letters, when ogizing for not alighting here as he passed, she became duchess of York, showed that her and giving me notice that he will come and regard remained unabated. The last years see me here some day." From her solitude of the queen's life were spent at Schönhauat Schönhausen she writes that people avoid sen, where Frederick visited her once a year her, and that she is not included in the invi- on her birthday. Death carried off her most tations to Potsdam. "Yet it is not all this intimate friends; and, at length, in 1786, her magnificence which attracts me, but the dear husband followed. He died forsaken, as he master who inhabits the place. I still think wrote, by all the world, but retaining his eswith pleasure of the times of Rheinsberg, teem for his wife, requiring that every one when I enjoyed perfect contentment, having should treat her with attention, and bequeathbeen kindly received by a master whom I ing her to his nephew with the strongest tescherish, and for whom I would sacrifice my timonies of regard. The rest of her life glided life. Ah! what regret do I feel now when tranquilly away, comforted by the respect and all is changed; but my heart will always be affection both of courtiers and people. No the same, and I hope that all will again be as marriage of any note was considered satisfacof old; this sole hope supports me.' tory unless the old queen was present; and parents sought her benevolent smile at the baptism of their children. The walks round her park were open to the citizens; one-half of her income was spent in charity, and a colony of Bohemian exiles found a refuge near the walls of her palace. As the trees had been felled during the wars, she replanted them in her old age; "for, though I shall never see the trees grow up, it will please me to watch the young plants, and to think that the place will be charming after I am gone." At the age of eighty-one, with few dry eyes that day in Berlin, she was carried to her rest; but not till she had blessed her greatnephew at the most important crisis of his life, and welcomed his young and blooming bride, whose life we must now relate. But though the neglected queen could not but feel this usage, she bore it without a murmur. Some longings to be with her husband, in place of those courtiers who cared little for him, escaped her; but she acquiesced in his will; and her delight that her sister, who had married the prince of Prussia, should be admitted to the court-circle from which she was excluded, was unselfish and generous. She occupied herself in works of charity, and was the munificent friend of the distressed. She followed her husband in her thoughts through the long struggle of the seven years' war; and while others were cast down by defeat, her strength of mind and piety were never shaken. In the midst of danger she lived in her tranquil thoughts; finding the company of her books better than that of her train, and seeking that peace which the mind that seeks is sure to find. The veneration with which she was regarded by the people followed her everywhere. Never," says one of the great Prussian preachers, "shall I forget those stormy Magdeburg hours in which her majesty, during the wars, set an example of the highest piety and most heroic confidence in God. When the prudent and the cowardly trembled, she alone was unshaken in her glad hope for the future." The sermon which hailed the restoration of peace expressed the general feeling: "God preserve the mother of this land, who prayed for us in time of need." This life, so tried by private sorrow and public trouble, had other afflictions. She had seen her sister happily married to the prince of Prussia. But the prince had died brokenhearted; and his son, who had succeeded to his expectations and had married the queen's niece, had brought on himself calamities, which were all the heavier that they were the effect of his vices and entailed the ruin of his unfortunate wife. The offspring of this The The reign of the fifth king of Prussia, which began in 1786 and ended in November 1797, had been scandalous from its vices, and had, by the natural influence of example, corrupted Prussian society to the core. avowed scepticism of Frederick the Grant had tainted the opinions of his court; and the vices which had begun in infidelity flourished luxuriantly under the reign of his successor, Frederick William II. He did not preserve the military reputation of his country, and his campaign against the French, after the Revolution, brought on him defeat and disgrace. His sons, as they grew to manhood, witnessed with shame the transgressions of their father. The state of the court, and the wrongs done to their mother, moved them; and the eldest prince felt them the more keenly, after he and his brother had met, in their passage through Frankfort, the two princesses of Mecklenburg Strelitz, and had chosen them for their wives. It was in 1793, whilst the horrors of the French revolution were running their course, and those passions were boiling which were to scathe the whole of Europe, that the young princes met their |