"That," said another, "cut off nine heads at | Prince pursued his promenade, again playing the battle of Podgoritza." his part as a legendary hero. دو Whilst listening to them I thought of their neighbours. A few steps from them the Ottoman lies on his carpet, his legs crossed, his chibouque in his hand, dreaming—of what?the smoke that comes out of it. His smile is foolish and besotted. Near him dwells the Montenegrin he is active and agile, anxious about the future, impatient, lively, inquisitive, with a haughty style of language, and a frank, quick laugh. Rieka contains about two hundred houses. Prince Danielo and his wife like it as a change from their capital of Cetigny; and owing to this favour it is beginning to be embellished and civilized. The neighbourhood is well cultivated, and they even talk of establishing a school, where the youths will be taught something more than the use of the pistol and yataghan. At the end of the quay, in an airy situation, stands the princely habitation, looking on to the river on one side, and the town on the other. Every one who comes from Scutari to Rieka must pass over the narrow terrace which surrounds it, and upon which sixty-two of the tallest and best-formed men stand as a guard of honour in warlike costume, and are the sign of the Prince's presence there. I had been informed that Danielo went out every day about five o'clock, and conversed, during his walk, with those who had any petition to offer: I was careful not to be absent at the hour. At the appointed moment there was a sudden movement of silence and extraordinary respect in the crowd assembled round the house. Deep as were the salutations of this primitive people, there was yet something imposing in them; they were not humble. The Prince is little in stature, yet you may see he is no ordinary man, by the skilful way in which he composes his manners to make the people understand that he is legitimately and indubitably the first-the only powerful being among them. He passed on with a calm and measured step, with an elegant dignity, which his dreamy and melancholy appearance only heightened. You may see in his face that deep and strong desire to be recognised Most Serene Prince of Montenegro, independent of the Sultan. Prince Danielo is twenty-nine, and he has reigned four years. It was on the 31st of October, 1851, that the Vladika, Pierre Pietrovitch Niegosch, died in one of the chambers of the monastery where for many years the princebishops of Montenegro had resided. The evening before, he called the chiefs together, and said: │“I have made three copies of my will. One is at Vienna; the second at Petersburg; the third at Ragusa. I have chosen my nephew Danielo for my successor, he whom I sent to Vienna to finish his education. I pronounce a curse upon all who refuse to obey my last wishes." The will was sent for; the hundred deputies assembled in the plain of Cetigny, and accepted the commands of the late Vladika, appointing Petrovitch, his brother, governor until the arrival of Danielo. The early days of Danielo had been spent in wandering among the mountains, which gave him the knowledge, since so useful, of the manners, character, qualities, and defects of the Montenegrins. The cultivation of his mind was limited to the history and legends of his country, with the heroic songs of the Servians; and he inherited the implacable hate and vengeance against the Turks which is consecrated by tradition among all his countrymen. During his short residence at Vienna he had acquired some notions of modern civilization and institutions differing from those of his own country. On his return the chiefs of the mountains were assembled in a Diet, similar to that of the old Magyars; and, in spite of some opposition from his uncle, Danielo received the homage of the assembly. "I swear," he cried, "to consecrate myself entirely to the welfare of my country!" and with joyous and sonorous fusillades the echoes of the rocks announced to the shepherds and the inhabitants of the villages that Danielo Niegosch was acknowledged chief of the tribe, which contains more than one hundred thousand souls, of whom twenty thousand are accomplished warriors. He Danielo felt little disposed to become a bishop; and under the pretext of undergoing the ceremony of investiture he set out immediately for Russia, to obtain a release from the Czar. entrusted the Government to his uncle, at the same time declaring some large sums of moneyinvested in foreign banks, and forming part of the private fortune of the late Vladika, to be national property. An act of munificence so extraordinary in Montenegro served to conciliate all hearts. I soon saw him dispensing justice. His tribunal, the road; his clock, the sun; his seat, the first large stone. The advocates are chosen from the Prince's followers, whether senators or not. On this day two men presented themselves with a suppliant air. The Prince stopped, looked at them, sat down on a little hillock by the road side, received his lighted chibouque, Having arrived at Warsaw, the young chief and listened during the whole debate with an opened out his plans to Marshal Paskievitch. impassible countenance. At the end of an hour, "My greatest ambition," said he, "is to rewhen twilight was spreading over the moun- establish the ancient constitution of my countains, he gave his decision. What I most ad-try, and to separate the religious from the civil mired was the submission with which the two parties accepted the sentence: it might have been God himself who pronounced it. The power. Does not your excellency think that a warlike state should possess a secular prince who can command an army or direct an expedition?" It was not difficult to bring the Emperor over to this idea, seeing that he was already counting upon the destruction of Turkey, and a military chief on its borders might make a useful diversion; so after a few diplomatic notes exchanged with Austria, Danielo received at St. Petersburg the investiture of Reigning Prince of Montenegro, with the order of St. Stanislaus. He returned home with his head full of ideas of reform, cut roads through the country, and had a new penal code drawn, up which he was determined to execute. In the neighbouring countries of Dalmatia and Herzegovina, Montenegrin was but another name for robber. No merchant dare enter its dark defiles; but now, if he be not a Turk, there is no danger. Robbers are arrested and beaten for a crime which had hitherto been considered a custom and a right. But the Sublime Porte could not remain indifferent to these changes in its vassal; and war being declared, Omer Pacha was despatched, with an army of eight thousand men. Skirmish after skirmish succeeded, and Danielo contrived to maintain war for a year, to the surprise of the Turkish general, who was obliged to acknowledge the skill and tactics of the enemy. One day, Danielo, perceiving the miserable state of the finances, gave up his whole patrimony, employing it in raising the pay of the old men who undertook the care of the warriors' families. The Pacha offered peace, but in vain; and fifty thousand soldiers were marching on the little state, when Austria interfered with her diplomacy, and hostilities ceased. In 1855, Danielo married. On this occasion, romance conquered policy. He wished to marry a Servian princess, and in pursuance of this project had visited Trieste and Kinna several times. There he became more and more civilized; and this rude mountain-warrior learned even to dance the polka. At Trieste, he was féted by the rich Greeks and Sclaves who reside in this city. Among other families, that of Queqvich invited him to dinner, and he was placed next to Mademoiselle Darinka Queqvich, who received attentions from him which were not disdained; and in the month of January, Mdlle. Darinka became Princess of Montenegro, with a dowry of one hundred thousand florins. When she left Trieste, to go into her principality, one of her friends expressed the anxiety she felt lest she should not be able to accommodate herself to the manners of so barbarous a country. "It will be my endeavour to civilize it," replied the young wife. She has, in fact, introduced European manners into Montenegro. The little palace of Cetigny was embellished, elegant furniture carried over the mountains (on the backs of men), a summer and a winter residence were provided, newspapers entered the drawing-rooms, and strangers were received. Danielo's manners were softened. He learnt French, opened up communications, regulated the postal service, and formed new institutions. We soon received an invitation to dine with the Prince and Princess-first paying, at noon, our visit for presentation. The Prince was in full Montenegrin costume. His under-vest was red, fastened on the shoulder with a clasp, and embroidered with the finest gold; the rest of his dress was white. His silver pistols, enriched with precious stones, sparkled in his sash. The only detail which was not thoroughly national was a pair of lemon-coloured gloves, which he thought it necessary to wear for the sake of etiquette. He received us most graciously, speaking French with much facility. When a word was wanting, he repeated it in Sclavonian to the Princess. She translated it, and he continued his conversation. His face is strikingly intelligent. The Princess is a charming woman, of a pale complexion; tall, slender, and well made. Without being really beautiful, she is very distinguished. Her eyes are both soft and brilliant, and in them may be read a degree of sadness. I was told that she is generous to the poor. No doubt it is in charity that she finds the consolation she requires. Danielo loves her ardently; but he sometimes testifies it rather as a master than a lover-and the gossip of foreign states relates dramatic stories of his jealousy. At dinner I had for a neighbour the Prince's sister, the only one of the ladies present dressed in Montenegrin costume, and unable to speak or understand anything but that language. The Prince spoke freely, until stopped by some words of his wife, who was sadly relating her fright when Danielo one morning presented her with six sculls of Turkish chiefs who had been killed in 1852. The Prince turned to her, and said, in a tone at once ironical and solemn: "In marrying, madame, the chief of the Montenegrins, you ought also to marry his hate." I was struck with the expression of his eyes when he said this. As for the Princess, she blushed, and attempted to smile in vain. Happily the conversation was soon restored to its gay, quiet tone. When the Prince left us, he announced his intention of spending the evening with us at our rooms. About eight o'clock, the Princess had the kindness to send us tea, after the German fashion; with plenty of cakes and sweetmeats. The Prince soon arrived, accompanied by his secretary, and began to converse rapidly, smoking the chibouque I offered him. He tried first to establish his rights to independence; and traced the ideas of all the useful institutions he intended to give to his people as soon as he could gain a recognition from the powers of Europe. He reminded us of all that was glorious and heroic in the history of his country, animating himself to such a degree that we could no longer recognize the dark, mysterious physiognomy with which he presents himself to his people. I shall never forget his face and gestures in this little room; where, lighted by the dim rays of a small Dalmatian lamp, the Prince of Montenegro pleaded his cause with ardour, and laboured above all to convince us that he and his people were true Montenegrins. Had I only listened to my own wishes," he cried, "I should have gone to Paris; demanded an audience of the Emperor: I would have accepted him as judge and arbiter, and whatever he had decided would have satisfied me." "Prince," said one of our party," permit me to say to your Highness that this is a question of the policy of feeling; a policy which may be understood, but which I much fear would not be advocated." The Prince seemed to understand this distinction with difficulty: "How!" said he, "will they admit that I wish to be a Montenegrin?-that I wish to civilize my people?-that I refuse to be the vassal of a Sultan who is not my legitimate suzerain?-that I demand my rights, in order that my people may no longer blush for me, and say: You have not defended our hearths, according to your power and duty; you have debased yourself; failed in courage; perjured the oath which you swore before our chiefs!' Why cannot it be admitted? We are few in number, but great in will. I know we are nothing in Europe; but why cannot we become something at home? I wish to transform my people. Another half-century, and Montenego, if they wish her well from without, will turn her active instincts to the industrial arts. On the day that I am acknowledged independent, I shall be no longer a rebel-a robber-chief. War will no longer be the only joy of my people, or the only means of gaining a livelihood on a soil which will not nourish them. Give us back the frontiers which belong to us, that we may cultivate ground better than broken stones or rocky caves; and the arms which have never laid aside the gun, will turn to more useful occupations." "Prince," said the Consul, slowly, “I fear you count too much upon the Western powers assisting you. It may happen that your Highness will have to wait a long time for the satisfaction of your desires, and that your country will still remain a part of the Ottoman empire." At this announcement, so quietly expressed, the Prince turned deadly pale. His eyes sparkled with a feverish fire, and, no longer master of himself, he burst forth into passionate exclamations. "What!" cried he, " can that happen without further concessions? Can they decide that we Montenegrins are Turks?—that the Pachas are our masters?—that they can exercise their old vengeance against us with impunity? and that we are interdicted from responding to their hatred otherwise than by submission and shame! -Then," said he, with energetic tranquillity, "there is nothing left for us but certain death. Our mountains will re-echo our death-songs. It will be our country's last sigh. Never can those who were born in Montenegro, and breathed its air, submit to this outrage! They will defend to the last their mountain-heights. They will be killed, arms in hand, to the last man; and may that man be their Prince!" Danielo was silent; and in this dimly-lighted chamber there followed one of those deep silences which are often more eloquent than words. After a time the conversation was renewed, in a more moderate tone, and the Prince left us, rather less like a tragedian. The question of Montenegro still remains unsolved. As wild as their mountains, they fight for them from ardent love. "Without our great mountains," said one of them to me, "they would never have heard of us in the world." Danielo a rectification of his frontiers, but on The Porte seems disposed to grant Prince the express condition of his remaining its vassal, which is the point most repugnant to his feelings. In the meantime, he makes what friends he can, and offers presents to the western nations. The Princess has embroidered a magnificent Montenegrin dress, and sent it to the Emperor of the French; whilst M. Delarue, the Prince's Paris, to be educated in the college of Louis the secretary, has just brought his two nephews to Great. It is to be desired that Prince Danielo should be well convinced that he will gain more by tranquillity than by war, and thus best advance the work which he pursues with so much reso lution. THE GERMAN MOTHER. Hear what a German mother said, As her country's host went tramping past The first is sunk to his last sleep; "What recks it?" said that mother grey; Their name and mine shall live for aye; They fought for fatherland and right, And God accepts my widow's mite." A sunny, laughing sky ushered in the morning of "All Saints' Day"; already, with the earliest dawn, thousands from far and near were wending their way over the mountains towards the ancient and picturesque little village of Traunkirchen, lying on the edge of a rock projecting far into the lake, its situation originating the striking picture of the boat procession, which was a part of the day's celebration. Even the host of the "Cross," at Ebensee, sat before his door, in his Sunday-best, with his cloak (the parade-dress in Upper Austria, even on the hottest summer day) over his shoulder, waiting for his family to lead him to Traunkirchen, for the worthy old host of the "Cross" inn was blind. It is true he could no longer witness the inspiring solemnity, but he still wished to enjoy it with his mental vision, as it arose before him in all the freshness of those childish days, when his eyes could admire the beauty of Nature, ere a serious illness in later years had robbed him of that precious gift, the light of the eye. The church-goers had all a hearty goodmorrow for the blindman as they passed: they shook hands with him, or perhaps halted at his door for a brief rest; for he was well known to everyone and beloved far and near. One of the earliest on the road, leading from Ischl to Ebensee, was a good-looking young fellow, anxious to see the landlord betimes, for the cottage in which he lived was about half-anhour's distance from the village. Matthew, who was a joiner by trade, had but lately returned from abroad as a master-workman. He had a great favour to ask of the host, and stood hesitating in the road, when he caught sight of the old man before his threshold. He shook the dust off his shoes, roused up his courage, and continued determinately on his way, till he found himself at the blind man's side. The landlord gave him a hearty welcome, and soon his eager wishes rose to the joiner's lips. Matthew had come to ask for the hand of the landlord's Valpi-Valburga-who was known as the loveliest and worthiest girl far and wide. Well did the sightless old man know the treasure which he possessed in his daughter, and bow sadly he should miss her both within and without the house; for Valpi was quick and ready, always lively, always with a merry song on her lips. But her father, although many a silver hair now blended with his darkbrown locks, had not forgotten the blessing which he had brought home to his house in his Cecilia, and was willing enough to extend a similar joy to another; so he said neither "yes" nor no" to the wooer's speech: Valpi should herself decide. 66 That was just what the would-be Benedict, Matthew, wished; for he knew well enough how he stood with Valpi. A slight smile illuminated his face; his heart beat loudly; and had it not been a particularly solemn day, he would have given a cheer which would have re-echoed from all the mountains round. Just then the voice of the landlord's daughter was heard in the house, and Matthew felt so fearful and illat-ease at the sound, that he took a hasty leave, scarcely giving the innkeeper time to call after him: "Quite right, Mat! Ask once more, after church. Pray with earnest devotion, for what you are about to do will influence your whole life! After mass ask yourself, just once, whether you love my Valpi from the depths of your soul. For I cannot give you much with the girl, and you do not want a luggage van to hold all your property; but you have both learnt that which is right, and with that knowledge no one has starved; even I came to the village as poor as a rat, and have lived here so happily! Only, if you are not attached to each other with your whole heart, then you have bad days in prospect; and to see my wench unhappy, believe me, Mat, that would break my heart!" The bride-seeker turned back and shook hands with the old man feelingly, then hastened towards the lake. The sightless eyes of the innkeeper were filled with tears, which he wiped away hastily, for Valpi joined him just then, with her mother, to accompany him to Traunkirchen. Trusty Fido, their daily companion, sprang about joyously, for to-day he was off duty; although the good dog continued to look back, from time to time, at the old man, as if to ask whether his services were not required. Favoured by a cloudless sky the procession had come to an end, and the men collected in the open space in front of the church stood chatting over the gossip of the neighbourhood, whilst the women and girls had already started homewards, intent upon their culinary duties; but mine host of the "Cross" still remained on the shore of the lake, leaning upon his stick, his features lighted up with the smile peculiar to blind people, apparently still listening, as to the echo of the pious hymns so lately resounding. At last Valpi reminded him that it was time to be going, and, as they left Thaunkirchen, they saw Matthew standing talking with a number of other young fellows. He gave a friendly greeting to the innkeeper's family; but as Valpi caught his eye in passing, she could not make out the cause of the deep flush which overspread his cheeks. When once more on the road to Ebensee, the old man sat down awhile, to rest under a shady tree, the young girl trying to amuse him, meantime, with all kinds of chit chat, till at last Matthew was named. "I should like to know," said Valpi, "why the joiner turned so red in the face when nodding to us at Traunkirchen? He surely cannot have any secrets from us." It was time for the innkeeper to explain matters to his child, which he did in few, but earnest-hearted words. Valpi coloured violently; words failed her for awhile; then, winding one arm round her father's neck, she extended the other to her smiling mother, and with her lips pressed close to the blind man's ear, the pure-hearted maiden whispered her avowal, as though it were a confession. Well, you see, father, Matthew is really very dear to me-dearest next to you and mother. How it has all come about I scarcely know my self. But old Thalhofer was your friend; and Mat, his son, has grown up with me; we were very fond of each other as children, and so our love has grown up with us. At first we used to sing together songs which others taught us; then they came spontaneously from our hearts and-father-mother-you know what I mean already, don't you?" And with this the blushing child pressed a loud kiss upon the old man's cheek. Her modest and honourable preference had long been no secret to her parents; and they had no reason to thwart it, for Matthew was a worthy lad, and Valpi had the old couple's blessing. It was but a short time back that the wealthy Hopaner of Ischl had wooed the daughter of the landlord of the "Cross;" but the young girl had given him a decided refusal, and remained true to Matthew, then far away on his travels. They started once more on their road; the old man was silent, thinking how sad would be his parting from his dear child; the mother was quiet, too, brooding over Valpi's modest outfit, and the bride elect, too excited to speak, seemed breathing an atmosphere of the purest joy, as smiling dreams danced before her delighted soul. And thus they reached the inn, scarce knowing how. The mother opened the door, and hurried in to light the fire for dinner; but father and daughter remained without, Fido gambolling round them with all sorts of antics; but the day was an unlucky one for him, for now that there were weightier things to think about, the trusty attendant remained unnoticed. At last the old man's thoughts found utterance in words. Feeling for the threshold and the window near, to be certain of his position, he sighed heavily as he said: "See, Valpi, for nineteen years you have run in and out over this threshold; from this window you have looked out every morning and watered your flowers; your cheerful voice was always to be heard, when for days together the good-fornothing landlord of the Cross' inn sat in blindness upon his bench. That will soon be all over, and it will be very desolate and quiet here-it will be very sad when you go away from your parents' house." The old man stood sorrowfully amidst the flowers, the golden sunbeams playing round him. Tears moistened even Valpi's eyes; but she wiped them away quickly with the corner of her apron, as with forced gaiety she answered the old man. 66 'Ah! father, Thalhofer's cottage is not so far away; we are not going to the new world; I shall be able to run down quite early every morning, and arrange things, and help you to dress; in the afternoon I shall come and pay you a visit, and spin or sew out there; Mat will fetch me in the evening, and we shall sit together quite sociably, as of old; only we shall be even happier than before, for the innkeeper's family will have gained an additional member; we shall have reckoned upon one more to rejoice with us in our happiness; besides this, my father shall know no change; and by-and-bye I shall beg Mat to sell his little cottage, and join with us that little building close by is large enough for us two." "Go along, you little fool! what will you do when the children come?" interrupted her father, laughing. "I think I hear mother calling me," answered the blushing girl, as she hastened into the house. The blind man felt about for his trusty Fido lying at his feet, who immediately sprang up barking, when he saw that his old master was alone. The innkeeper loosened the dog's collar, and, taking it in his hand, was led about round the house by the sagacious animal, who kept looking up at the old man, as though he could read his wishes in his face. Matthew had purposely loitered at Traunkirchen that he might call at the inn just at the proper moment; so it was nearly noon when he arrived at Ebensee. The blind man had just taken his seat in the corner of the public room, whilst Valburga was busily engaged in placing the wooden platters and plated iron spoons, for the household, upon the clean table-cloth, as Thalhofer popped his head in between the flowerpots, at the open window, to reconnoitre the land. "God bless you, Valpi !" sounded from with out. "Good heavens, Matthew!" was heard from within. The landlord laughed, and invited the hesitator to come into the room. The joiner was soon certain of his good fortune, and, before she could prevent it, pressed a hearty kiss, as an advance payment, upon the young girl's cheek; and, after a short confidential chat with father, mother, and his betrothed, made his escape into the open air, as the men and women servants entered the room to share in the meal. Mat's heart was too full and his breast too overburdened for eating; so he hastened to the |