ellers is the suite of rooms fitted up for the
reception of the Princess Royal when she came to Germany as a bride in
1858. The chambers are hung with chintz of pale pink and other
delicate colors, such as one sees in England, and with the same
dainty arrangements which make English bedrooms a synonym for spotless
comfort the world around. Here were arranged the pictures of father
and queen-mother and brothers and sisters, and the little souvenirs of
home with which, as an English girl of seventeen, she fought the
homesickness inevitable to a stranger in a foreign land; and here many
of them remain, in the rooms still called by her name.

The "Marble Palace" is seen to fine advantage, in the midst of lovely
waters, from the road which leads from Potsdam to Gleinicke. It was
the summer home of the present Emperor, while Prince William, and is
not open to visitors.

XI.

THE HOMES OF THE HUMBOLDTS.

An hour by tramway, northwest of Berlin, lies Tegel, the hereditary
estate of the Humboldt family. About two hundred years ago its hills
and dales, pine forests and sandy plains, were the property of the
Great Elector. Some eighty years later, a Pomeranian Major in the army
of Frederick the Great was high in favor with the King on account of
his distinguished service in the Seven Years' War, and was rewarded by
gifts and promotions. To William von Humboldt, eldest son of this
Major and Royal Chamberlain, descended the chateau and lands of the
former royal hunting-lodge of Tegel. Though this was not, in strict
sense, the home of the more famous younger brother, Alexander, these
were his ancestral acres. Here he often came to this brother, whose
death in his arms in 1835 cast a lasting shadow over his lonely life;
and here, beside the brother and his family, his mortal part lies
buried.

A bright April morning was the time of our visit. The outskirts of a
great city are seldom more free from unpleasant sights than the
northern suburb through which we passed. Here and there, in the plain
which surrounds Berlin, sandy knolls appear; now and then the tall
chimney of a manufactory or a brewery pierces the sky; but the city
insensibly gives place to the country. Clean-swept garden paths, trim
hedges of gooseberry bushes just bursting into leaf, and hens
scratching the freshly turned furrows, brought back a childlike
delight in the spring-time; while the antiquarian tastes of later
years were fed by glimpses of deliciou