Perhaps no collection, among many more which might be mentioned,

better illustrates the practical working of the German mind than the

Royal Post Museum in the Leipziger Strasse. Here is shown everything

of interest connected with the transmission of intelligence, and

poetry as well as prose has entered into the heart of this Government

exhibit. On the walls of the first saloon entered by the visitor are

copies in stone of Assyrian bas-reliefs showing a warrior with chariot

and arrows. This suggests to us a scene in the lives of David and

Jonathan; but communication by means of arrows is probably much older

than the time of David. Earlier than even the Assyrian stone must have

been the model for the Egyptian wicker and wooden post-chariot. In

this room, under a glass case, is an exquisite marble statuette, found

at Tanagra, of a Grecian girl seated, and writing on a tablet; and not

far away is a Roman warrior, carrying his message. Entering the next

hall, we pass a beautiful bronze statue of Philip, the Grecian

soldier, bearing a laurel spray, stretching his athletic limbs in

breathless strides as he goes toward the capital to announce the

battle of Marathon, and to fall dead on his entrance to the city, with

the single word "Victory!" on his lips. Here on the walls are four

emblematic pictures: "The Land-Post," representing a knight with a

sealed missive in his hand, standing beside and curbing his fiery

steeds; "The Sea-Post," showing a mail-carrier on the back of a

dolphin in the midst of stormy waves far out at sea; "The Telegraph,"

with Jove and his lightnings as its central figure: and "The

_Rohrpost_,"--a maiden, blowing into an orifice with "the breath of

all the winds." This last is emblematic of that postal arrangement in

Berlin by which letters and postal cards are sent with great speed

through pneumatic tubes from which the air is exhausted by means of

pumps, and which makes it possible to receive a written message from a

distant part of the city within a few minutes after it is written.

Among the ancient representations are models of the boats in which the

old Norsemen sailed the seas, and of those by which our Anglo-Saxon

ancestors invaded England from Germany. These are strikingly

contrasted, in their simplicity and clumsiness, with a fully equipped

model, from four to six feet long, of a modern North German Lloyd

Atlantic mail steamship, than which no better equipped boat sails the

main. One goes on, past a Gobelin tapestry representing a mail-scene

at Nüremberg in the Middle Ages, through long halls and corridors

where are hundreds of models of post-office buildings of the most

convenient and approved plans, in all parts of the world. These are of

every variety of architecture, from the great general post-office in

London, the handsome Hanover post-office building, those of the

central and district post-offices in Berlin, Dresden, Cologne,

Heidelberg, and many others in South Germany, to the modern edifices

which adorn, and yet seem strangely out of keeping with, the

picturesque old North German towns. These models are miniature copies

of the exteriors of post-office buildings, varying in length from one

and a half to six or eight feet, and of corresponding height. One most

interesting model shows the interior of a modern post-office, each

floor showing an exact copy of its department of the service, with

all appliances and conveniences.

In another room are miniature mail-coaches of different kinds. In the

centre of this apartment stands a life-size figure of a mail-carrier

in Germany of four hundred years ago. He is a wild-looking official,

reminding one by his bronzed features and general appearance of some

trusty Indian scout, as he holds his gun in an attitude of suspicion

and menace, while a bear-cub opens a capacious mouth at his feet.

Model mail and post-office cars occupy the side of another large room;

but this exhibit is so vast and varied that the memory refuses to

retain its classification, and holds side by side Alaskan sledges

drawn by dogs, Russian post-chaises with reindeer teams, mail-boats on

Norwegian fiords, carrier-pigeons and balloons, camels and elephants,

and the model mail-coach of the lightning express of the New York

Central Railroad. The working appliance used in America for catching

off a mail-bag without stopping the train attracts much attention.

There is a complete set of the weights and measures used in British

post-offices, and two glass cases show the forms of horseshoes best

adapted to the speed of horses carrying mails. Tablets, pens, and

pencils have cases to themselves, as well as parchments, ancient rolls

and ink-horns, reeds and papyrus. Here are the primitive postal

arrangements of some of the East Indies; there is the yellow satin

missive with a scarlet seal which carries the royal mandates of Siam.

Pictures and models of mail-carrying elephants come next, their gay

saddle-cloths filled with pockets and parchment rolls. A model of a

Japanese post-office is finished in all its interior with the

perfection of detail and delicacy of execution which characterize the

best Japanese work. A framed engraving of the International Postal

Congress at Berne in 1874 hangs near one of the Congress at Paris in

1878. There is a room devoted to the exhibition of postal stamps,

cards, and envelopes of every kind, and there are several rooms where

models of the most approved kinds of telegraphic apparatus are shown.

In a corridor are all varieties of submarine cables, with the ore and

the Bessemer steel of which they are spun. In one of the rooms a small

crowd is collected about an operator who speaks through a telephone,

records the sound of his own voice on strips of foil, which he tears

into fragments and distributes to those who eagerly reach for them. In

the centre of this room there is a tiny circular railway, with a

coach, but no locomotive, standing on the track. By turning the wheel

of an electro-magnet the official produces an electric light at the

extremity of a model burner; then, applying the same power to the

little railway, propels the coach at a rapid rate by means of the

invisible agent. One goes forth into the street, past wax figures of

armed and mounted mail-messengers in the Middle Ages, past the model

street mail-boxes and carriages which help to make so wonderful the

Berlin postal arrangements, in a maze at what may here be seen in a

single half-hour of the history of mail-carrying in all lands and

ages. The originator of this "Post Museum" is Dr. Stephan, the

inventor of the postal card and the chief promoter of the

International Postal Union. His is the "power behind the throne" which

has made the German postal system a marvel of efficiency, unsurpassed,

if not unrivalled, in the world.

Less known to travellers than many others far inferior in interest, is

the Hohenzollern Museum, occupying the Monbijou Palace in the heart of

Berlin. This palace, of so much interest to the readers of Carlyle's

"Frederick the Great," has been transformed into a repository for the

personal belongings and memorials of the kings and queens of Prussia.

One or more rooms devoted to each sovereign in historical succession

make up a fascinating picture of the royal customs of the kingdom for

two hundred years. Our attention was called to this museum by an

English resident, but its interest far exceeded our expectations. Here

are the laces, jewels, and often the entire wardrobes of the

Hohenzollern queens, with their writing desks and tablets,

jewel-cases, embroidery, work-baskets, mirrors, beds, and other

furniture; and the kings have each their own apartment likewise,

tenanted by their "counterfeit presentments" in wax, sitting or

standing in the very clothes they wore, and surrounded by visible

mementos of the life they used to live. The glittering eyes and

mundane expression of Frederick William I., father of Frederick the

Great, give one a strange feeling, and the chairs and table of his

"Tobacco College" must have a vivid interest for every reader of

Carlyle's "Frederick." But when we entered the rooms containing the

many mementos of the Great Frederick himself, from his effigy in the

cradle and his baby shoes, and threaded all the vicissitudes of that

strangely fascinating life by the help of its visible surroundings,

and finally stood before the glass case containing a mask of his dead

face and hand surrounded by its laurel wreath, the spell of the past

was at its height. It was a bright sunny afternoon, and the golden

light came in long slanting lines through windows opening on Monbijou

gardens, beautiful even in winter, and lay upon the tessellated floors

of the corridors in patterns of shining glory. The chat and laughter

of young companions floated from adjoining rooms, and the foot of the

guard fell softly in the marble halls. But a kind of awe born of that

wonderful past had taken possession of me. I was alone with the spirit

of the Great Monarch, and it was more than could be borne. We hurried

away from the spot, as when children we fled from fancied ghosts. To

one in search of a genuine sensation, we recommend the reading (with

judicious skipping) of Carlyle's "Frederick the Great," and a visit,

alone or with a single companion, to the Hohenzollern Museum.

Upwards of twenty years ago, German trade was falling behind in the

best markets of the world, because the products of German industry

were largely poor in quality and deficient in artistic value. With the

Duke of Ratisbon, President of the Herrenhaus, as chairman of a

committee appointed to consider the subject, a few leading minds

combined in a movement which issued in the establishment of the

Industrial Art Museum. The Crown Prince and the Crown Princess were

much interested in the subject, and gave the plan their hearty

support. Less than ten years since, the fine new building in Zimmer

Strasse near Königgrätzer was opened on the birthday of the Crown

Princess, to receive the vast treasures accumulated, by gift, loan,

and purchase, for the permanent exhibition. A cursory visit, though

most interesting, is sometimes bewildering from the extent and variety

of the collection. The centre of the edifice consists of a large

court, roofed with glass and surrounded by two galleries. This is the

place reserved for loan exhibitions, and several of importance have

already been held here. One of the earlier was of some of the

treasures of the South Kensington Museum, loaned by Queen Victoria.

Opening upon these arcades are numerous halls on the lower floor,

devoted to the permanent exhibition. The classification of the objects

exhibited, if not loose, is very general, seeming to us inferior to

the method which makes the South Kensington a delight, whether one has

hours or months in which to visit it. On the ground floor of this

Berlin Museum are "objects in the making of which fire is not used."

This includes domestic and ecclesiastical furniture of different

countries and historical periods, musical instruments, tapestries,

carvings in ivory and wood, and many other objects widely separated in

thought. A fine exhibit is made of articles in amber wrought by

workmen of rich old Dantzic, for which Baltic Germany furnishes the

raw material. The ancient Italian carved bridal-chests brought vividly

to mind our childhood's favorite story of Ginevra, by chance

imprisoned in such a chest on the day which was to have witnessed her

marriage.

The upper floor, with an arrangement similar to that of the lower,

shows "objects in the manufacture of which fire is necessary." The

very extensive collection of pottery and porcelain was surpassed, in

our observation, only by that at Sèvres; and there are many rare and

valuable specimens of work in glass and metals. The ancient municipal

silver service of the city of Lüneberg, bought at a cost of $165,000,

deserves the attention it attracts; and the work of German mediæval

goldsmiths--particularly of the famous Augsburg artisans--is a

revelation of the possibilities of human handiwork. Stained glass, of

much historic and artistic value, fills the windows of the entire

building. The specimens of textile fabrics, in completeness and

extent, are matchless, and are so arranged as to afford the utmost

facility to students of the history of this important subject, as well

as great pleasure to the favored visitor who has the opportunity to

inspect them.

This "Künstgewerbe Museum" is open to the public without charge on

three days of the week, and for a small fee on the remaining days;

while its valuable industrial library may be freely consulted on four

week-day evenings. Its influence is already strongly felt along the

lines of trade and industry throughout the Empire.

The great Ethnographical Museum adjoining, on the corner of

Königgrätzer Strasse, has the kind and variety of objects usually

found in such exhibitions, including those connected with several

races of American Indians. The other departments were, to us, eclipsed

in interest by the Schliemann exhibition of Trojan remains on the

ground floor. Here we found, on the walls, framed pencil or India ink

sketches of the localities where the earlier excavations were made,

plans of the work, sections of the unearthed portions, and the

precious old Trojan antiquities themselves, deposited here for

inspection and safe keeping.

The Märkische Museum, in the Fisch Markt, a centre of Old Berlin,

illustrates the history and the prehistoric times of the Mark of

Brandenburg, including an interesting department of curiosities from

the lake-dwellings and tumuli. There are also ancient coins and other

objects picked up at different times within the province. One of the

later treasures of this unique museum is the box from which the monk

Tetzel sold the indulgences which fanned into a flame the rising fires

of the Reformation.

VI.

THE GERMAN REICHSTAG AND THE PRUSSIAN PARLIAMENT.

The Reichstag, or Imperial Diet of the German Empire, was, during our

stay in Berlin, a focus for the eyes of all Europe and America. The

Government, professedly actuated by a fear of war, asked for an

appropriation, largely to increase the army annually for a term of

seven years. This House of Deputies, elected by the people and

numbering nearly four hundred members, contained a considerable

element of opposition to the Government. The debate over the Army Bill

brought Chancellor Bismarck up from his distant country-seat, where he

had spent several previous months, to a participation in the contest

which was anticipated on both sides with eagerness and solicitude.

The building on Leipziger Strasse, as severe in inner details as in

the sombre gray of its outer walls, was hastily constructed in 1871

for the accommodation of the newly consolidated German Empire, and has

long been inadequate to the need. A single gallery surrounds three

sides of the hall, and is occupied on the right by boxes for the

Imperial household, the diplomatic corps, and high officials. The left

is appropriated to English and American visitors; and the centre,

immediately above the desk of the presiding officer and the elevated

seats of the Chancellor and members of the Bundesrath, is alone left

for the general public. When the new building near the Thiergarten

shall be occupied, it is hoped that greatly improved acoustics and

ventilation may be secured, and the accommodations for visitors such

that it may not be said that there are Germans in Berlin who have for

years desired visitors' tickets of admission without having been able

to secure them.

By a singular good fortune, our tickets gave us seats for this debate

in full view of the leaders of each of the great parties. On the

first day the Prime Minister made his great speech, and on the second

day thereafter, Richter, the leader of the progressive party, took up

the speech point by point, and with bold and vigorous oratory for two

hours held the attention of all to his own opposing views. A man of

robust physique, still in the prime of life, Richter's dark complexion

and facial expression give the impression of "staying qualities"

formidable as lasting. The session opened at eleven o'clock A.M., and

the veteran General and Field-Marshal Von Moltke was the first

speaker. His rising was the signal for a general hush, and for about a

quarter of an hour all listened in breathless silence. Half the width

of the hall from the observer, his more than eighty years seemed to

sit lightly on "the great taciturnist;" and his fair complexion, fine

brow, thin face, and singular firmness of mouth have the fascination

of genius. Later, during the long and sometimes denunciatory speech of

Richter, he seemed wearied. Rising from his seat in the front rank of

the Conservatives on the extreme right, he moved to the rear, stood in

the aisle, took a vacant seat,--resting by various changes for

fifteen or twenty minutes; but when, between one and two o'clock, the

time for Bismarck's entrance approached, he returned to his own seat

and thenceforth listened attentively. Like the aged Emperor, Von

Moltke's age was most apparent in his movements. Sitting or standing,

he was the graceful, well-bred gentleman, as well as the dignified

chief of the German army. In walking, his movement is slow, and

lacking vigor to a marked degree. The offer of the Opposition to vote

for the bill with a term of one, two, or even three years, while

declaring that they could not vote for seven, was haughtily received

by the Prime Minister, who had already given his reasons, supported by

the Emperor, by Von Moltke, and other eminent military authority, for

adhering to the longer term. "I will not abate a hair's breadth of the

septenate," said he. "If you do not vote it, I prefer to deal with

another Reichstag." This on the second day of the debate. On the third

day Bismarck replied to some of the positions of the Opposition, in a

speech of three quarters of an hour, immediately following his

opponent, Richter. The latter, and the members on the left included in

the three great divisions of the Liberal party, retired from the hall

at the conclusion of Richter's two hours' speech; but the centre, or

Catholic party, among whom were several priests and a number of very

keen and watchful physiognomies, remained in their seats, as well as

the Conservatives of both grades. Soon Richter was back, though

without his supporters. Fumbling a moment at his desk for pencil and

paper, he stepped forward in the aisle, so as not to lose the

sentences of Bismarck (occasionally somewhat indistinct), and refusing

to be diverted for more than an instant by the communications of

friends and officials. Cries of _Ja wohl! Ja wohl!_ and _Bravo!_ were

heard from the right during the speech of Bismarck, with now and again

a general ripple of laughter at some pleasantry accessible to the

German mind; but these were much outdone in heartiness by the applause

which frequently interrupted Richter when speaking. There is a

massiveness about this scene which rises up in memory with a vividness

greater, if possible, than the reality made on our excited and wearied

endurance during the hours we spent there. Later, Windhorst, the

leader of the Roman Catholic party, made a memorable speech. The dozen

great electric lights depending from the ceiling were extinguished

when the early afternoon sun faintly struggled with the clouds for

entrance through the skylight which forms the entire roof of the room,

except those left burning near the seats of Bismarck and Von Moltke,

which brought these foremost figures into strong relief. Prince

William--now Emperor--and the gentlemen of his party were in gay

uniforms in the Imperial box, and the diplomatic box was lighted

mainly by the diamonds of the ladies who sat there; while the crowded

ranks of the other galleries were in dim twilight. It was a picture to

remain in history. The bill was lost. In less than twenty-four hours

after we left the Reichstag, Bismarck had read his summary dissolution

of the Diet, and before another sunset the hall was closed and silent.

The Iron Chancellor had made his appeal to the country. The war-cloud

was heavy over Europe, and great was the excitement in Berlin. Under

fear of a bolt which might strike at any moment, the elections for a

new Chamber were held, and Bismarck had his will.

The Reichstag is the representative body of the whole German Empire,

with its four kingdoms, six grand duchies, and sixteen lesser

principalities and powers united under one emperor. Prussia is a

kingdom which forms but one, though the most important, of these

constituent parts. The Reichstag is a kind of Upper and Lower House in

one; the Bundesrath or Federal Council, with somewhat arbitrary

powers, has its private Council-room; but the Chancellor of the Empire

is its presiding officer, and, with the members of this Council,

occupies the elevated platform at the right of the President of the

Reichstag. The chief function of the latter as a legal Chamber of

Deputies is to check the power of the Bundesrath. It can thus reject

bills and refuse appropriations, but has no power to bring about a

change of administration.

The Prussian Diet is composed of two separate houses. The building of

the Lower House--the Abgeordnetenhaus--is near the eastern extremity

of the Leipziger Strasse, and the House of Lords--Herrenhaus--is

adjacent to the Reichstag-Gebaude. The Prussian Lower House is

somewhat larger in numbers than the Reichstag, and is of course an

elective body. It contained a number of eminent men,--as Herr

Windhorst, also the leader of the Catholic party in the Reichstag,

and Professor Virchow. On the day of our visit no business of special

importance was before the assembly, and visitors' tickets were

obtained with an ease in pleasing contrast to the most difficult feat

of obtaining entrance to the Reichstag on a great occasion.

The House of Lords is reputed a dull place, and is seldom visited. In

a dwelling formerly occupying this site (No. 3 Leipziger Strasse), and

of which some memorials remain, Felix Mendelssohn spent, with his

parents and sister Fanny, several years of his wonderful youth; and

the "Gartenhaus" of this estate witnessed the memorable private

performance of the work which first revealed his greatness to the

world,--the "Overture to the Midsummer Night's Dream."

VII.

PROMINENT PERSONAGES.

"I love my Emperor," said "our little Fräulein," laying her hand on

her heart, one day when we were talking of him.

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