great as he was
famous.

From the little burial-ground we took a hill-path, hoping for a more
distant view than we had found but hardly expecting it. Ascending
gradually, there were glimpses of forests and hills far to the
northward; and a porter's lodge, and stables, in a vale amid the
trees, revealed only by the distant baying of a hound, and the blue
smoke curling upward. Still we wound along, over the hillsides and
under the trees, pausing occasionally to rest on simple rustic seats,
on which were carved the initials of former pilgrims to these scenes.
Faring onward, there came a sudden burst of light and beauty.

"Far, far o'er hill and dale"

shines the blue expanse of the Tegeler See, with sunshine flooding all
the broad acres between. The fortress spires of Spandau and the dome
of the royal palace of Charlottenburg spring from the purple,
forest-rimmed horizon; and beyond is a tangle of history written on
the sky in domes and palaces and spires, I know not what, nor how
many. To the delight of this sudden vision is added the thought of the
generations of men and women who have trod this forest path, and whose
eyes have been gladdened by this sight, until a file of mounted
knights and nobles, from the Great Elector through a line of kings and
emperors, of grand dames and fair princesses, has swept in stately
procession down the hill-side to be followed in imagination by the
footsteps of many of the greatest men in literature, science, and
philosophy which Europe has brought forth, and by those of statesmen
and diplomatists from every quarter of the globe.

Returning to the chateau, we passed between it and the ancient house,
when lo! a glance at the rear of the modern villa toward a
second-story bay window under the spreading shade of a venerable tree
told a new tale. I did not then know the history of the buildings, and
it had seemed that only the low cottage was ancient, and the Roman
villa comparatively modern. But here was a tell-tale slope of ancient
roof, with a square port-hole of a window just beneath it, peeping
forth behind the modern bay-window under the tree-tops, all out of
harmony with the lines of Roman towers and roofs; and so we knew that
the chateau was only modern in appearance, but ancient in reality.

A day full of quiet beauty, not unmingled with delight, this had
proved; worth to the heart, in some moods, acres of canvas and
chiselled marble within the walls of royal museums. But