EPISODE. HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. 31 in their most aggravated form. Disguise was now impossible; and the physician discovered, in the flushed features and wild expression of his patient, a lady whom, two years previously, he had met at one of the petty courts of Germany---then the object of general envy and adulation-the observed of all observers. Not a moment was to be lost; for every moment now gave strength to the malady, and weakened the resources of art. Two of the principal physicians of the place, both celebrated in the profession, lent their able and zealous assistance; but certain symptoms, on which it is here unnecessary to dwell, threw out a fearful prognostic of the issue. Another day passed, and the malady had gained ground; but as the physician sat by the couch at midnight, endeavouring to soothe those symptoms which no skill could subdue, the door suddenly opened, and a tall stranger entered. Casting aside his military cloak, and gazing for an instant on the delirious being whose lips, faithful to one expression only, continued to repeat it with an accent that seemed to reach his heart, he threw himself upon the edge of the couch, and pressing her burning hand to his lips, sobbed out in convulsive agony, "My Frederica-my own Frederica!" The word acted upon the patient in such a manner as to confirm the belief that there was 66 magic in a name." It was evidently a well-known voice; and by its soothing influence, superseded, in the course of the day following, all occasion for more scientific treatment. But as the character of our present work does not admit of a more particular detail of the incidents that followed, we may briefly state, that the physician soon lost sight of his patient-but his patient, on re-crossing the Rhine, became the bride of one whose ancient château overlooks the Danube; and wheredefeated in her deep-laid scheme of prevention-the mar-plot "Dowager" has found in her ci-devant dame d'honneur, a most exemplary daughter. It is impossible for any one, possessing a taste for the beauties of Nature, to enter Zurich or its environs, without feelings of admiration. From whatever point we arrive in this delicious region, the beauty, though varying in degree, is always positive-always striking and picturesque. Built at the northern extremity of the lake-divided by the limpid waters of the Limmatencircled by hills and acclivities-here mantled with vines, and there massy with forests, sprinkled with "campagnes," and enriched with thriving villages, the scene is full of animation, and, on further acquaintance, keeps to the mind the promise it made to the eye. Did our space suffer us to particularize, Zurich and its environs would certainly afford an apology for digression; for, in addition to the beauty of its existing scenery, there is a peculiar pleasure resulting from associations connected with its history. As the country of Bullinger, Zwingle,* Bodmer, Breitinger, Heidegger, Lavater, Gessner, Hirzel, Zimmerman, and a host of others well known to fame-it has peculiar charms for the intellectual traveller, who dwells with delight on the scenes which they have described, and from which they seem to have derived inspiration. For a time, he turns from the battle-fields of freedom, and the feats of chivalry, to meditate on the spot where the peaceful advocates of religion, science, and literature, have left the proud legacy of their names; and where he still seems to hold intercourse with their spirits, and enlist himself as a partner in their studies, sentiments, and pursuits. Once hallowed by the residence of genius, the meanest locality rises into importance -as a puny frame is exalted by the noble spirit that inhabits it. But here, every locality was worthy of the inhabitant; here some of the sweetest scenes of Nature were thrown open as a sanctuary to the sons of genius-scenes which they have well and pathetically described, and by their description consecrated to after times. When the torch of religious persecution spread consternation through the distracted states of Europe-when the sacred name of home was no longer a word that implied security-when the weak, and the innocent, and the helpless, and the timid, escaped as " brands from the burning"-Zurich, with a courage and humanity which have crowned her with glory, threw open her gates for their reception-clothed, comforted, and cherished them with a sister's love-and embraced, as her adopted citizens, those whom the violence of party had stript of all but their integrity. Here in particular-when the word was, " Crois que j'ai parlé à l'ange Gabriel, ou je te tue!" and when, during the troubles of our own country, so many, for "conscience' sake," were driven to the miserable alternatives of voluntary exile, the sword, or the stake-the nonconformists of England and Scotland found shelter, succour, and citizenship; and in the enlightened and liberal society of Zurich, all that could console them for the loss of their own. This is a fact which can never be lost sight of by their descendants; and among the thousands of our countrymen who now resort to these shores for pleasure, none can forget under what different circumstances their forefathers craved hospitality in the same place. When individuals, flushed with the gifts of fortune--such * Zwingle, or Zuinglius, born at Wildhaus, Jan. 1, 1484, was in Switzerland, what Luther was in Germany-the triumphant champion of the Reformation. After a most eventful life, he was killed in his forty-seventh year, while serving as chaplain in the army of the Reformers, and his body falling into the hands of the enemy, was ignominiously burnt. For a concise and well-written biographical notice of Bullinger, a native of Bremgarten on the Reuss, the reader is referred to "Memoirs,” by the Rev. J. W. MIDDLETON, M.A. Oxon. |