e, once already purified by fire, like so
many of its companion edifices, and only lately rebuilt. Some idea may
be formed of the extent of its interior from the fact that it affords
accommodation for three thousand spectators. Our way lies onward still.
What noble figure is this? Simple but commanding in character and
attitude, it fixes your attention at once. Look at the superscription.
Upon a scroll on its pedestal are the words "Frederick William III. to
Field Marshal Prince Blucher of Wahlstatt, in the year 1826." Yes! the
impetuous soldier, figured in eternal bronze by the first sculptor of
Prussia, Rauch himself, here claims and receives the admiration of his
countrymen. Bare-headed stands the old warrior, but is duly crowned with
laurels on every returning anniversary of the well remembered day, the
18th of June.

Leaving the sanctuary of the Christian Deity, the heathen temple of
Terpsichore, and the effigy of the renowned soldier, thus grouped
together, we traverse the fine road, and pause for a moment to look at a
severe but elegant structure, erected, we are told, in exact imitation of
a Roman _castrum_, or fortress, and therefore eminently in character with
the purpose for which it is intended. The smart Prussian infantry are
grouped about its pillared entrance, which is graced also by two statues
of military celebrities--for this is the royal guard-house.

"Der Alter Fritz." "Old Fred!" This is the familiar title bestowed upon
a great monarch; and there is something in this nickname a thousand times
more telling to the ear and heart of a Prussian than the stately
appellation of "Frederick the Great." The former is for their own hearts
and homes, the latter for the world. And for the world also is the noble
equestrian statue upon which we now gaze. It is a question whether a
work of sterling genius does not speak as effectively to the eye of the
uninitiated as to that of the most inveterate stickler for antecedents of
grace and technicalities of beauty. This statue of Frederick of Prussia
tells upon the sense at once, because it is true to art as established by
ancient critics, but more so, because it is imitated nature, which art
too often only presumes to be, reckoning too much upon fixed rules and
time-honoured dogmas. It is noble and impressive, because it is _like_;
no antiquated Roman figure in _toga_ and _calcei_, but the representation
of the living man.

Das Zeughaus, or arsenal, wh