the whole of mankind, or specially commis-, dacity in nourishing so wild a theory, and sioned to kill and terrify into his doctrines. still more for the reckless butcheries by which Instead of this, there is nothing to show that he sought to bring it into operation, we he had formed any distinct scheme of a gov- must, on a review of his whole character, ernment to take the place of that which he adhere to the popular belief on the subject. had aided in destroying. All we learn is, that Acquitted, as he must necessarily be, of the there hovered in his mind's eye some vague charge of personal ambition, he was still a Utopia, in which public affairs would go on monster, only the more dangerous and devery much of themselves, through the mere teslable for justifying murder on the ground force of universal Benevolence, liberated from of principle. the bosom of Nature. For his folly and au

From Sharpe's Magazine.


A PICTURE in words must needs be a po- and thus he reproduces it in a free transetical description. Such, accordingly, is the lation :character of these sketches of Swedish life Get on my back,' says the stork, our and scenery by the Danish poet, Andersen. green island's sacred bird, and I will carry He depicts only objects of poetical interest thee over the Sound. Sweden also has -scenes of natural grandeur, historical insti- fresh and fragrant beech woods, green meadtutions, buildings of ancient date and dignity, ows and corn-fields. In Scavia, with the spots of pastoral beauty and seclusion—and flowering apple-trees behind the peasant's of these, little is presented save the impres- house, you will think that you are still in sions which they severally excited in himself. Denmark.' Legends and historic incidents are intro- “« Fly with me,' says the swallow ; 'I fly duced into the delineation, but everything ap- over Holland's mountain-ridge, where the pears under the lights and shades of fancy, beech-trees cease to grow ; I fly further and is colored by the hues of poetic feeling towards the north than the stork. You shall Sentiment rather than observation would see the vegetable mould pass over into seem to be the author's tendency. His book rocky ground; see snug, neat towns, old will have few charms for those very“ prac-churches and mansions, where all is good and tical” people who delight only in “facts.” comfortable, where the family stand in a There is nothing of what is called “useful circle around the table, and say grace at information ” in the whole work. It is a meals, where the least of the children says record and illustration of the beautifu). a prayer, and morning and evening sings a

Behold the intending traveller, brooding psalm. I have heard it, I have seen it, when over the thoughts and fancies which a de- little, from my nest under the eaves.' lightful spring time has quickened in his "Come with me!come with me!' screams brain, and listening to the suggestions of a the restless sea-gull

, and flies in an expecting rambling inclination. The sunshine of the circle. Come with me to the Skjärgaards, lengthening day sheds gladness within his where rocky isles by thousands, with fir and mind, and solicits him with gentle promises pine, lie like flower-beds along the coast; to go abroad and see the world. The birds where the fishermen draw the well-filled warble, and he essays to interpret their song; nets!'

««• Rest thee between our extended wings,' *“Pictures of Sweden.” By Hans Christian Andersen, Author of “The Improvisatore,” &c. sing the wild swans. “Let us bear thee up Bentley, London.

to the great lakes, the perpetually roaring elvs (rivers), that rush on with arrowy swift- | fresh green sward. In the early spring, ness; where the oak forest has long ceased, whilst the fields are still covered with snow, and the birch-tree becomes stunted. Rest but which is melted on the roof, the latter afthee between our extended wings : we fly fords the first announcement of spring, with up to Sulitelma, the island's eye, as the the young sprouting grass where the sparmountain is called ; we fly from the vernal row twitters ? Spring comes !' green valley, up over the snow-drifts, to the “ Between Montola and Vadstene, close mountain's top, where thou canst see the by the high road, stands a grass-turf house North Sea, on yonder side of Norway. We one of the most picturesque. It has but fly to Jemteland, where the rocky moun- one window, broader than it is high, and a tains are high and blue; where the Foss wild rose-branch forms the curtain outside. roars and rushes. Up to the deep, cold- “ We see it in the spring. The roof is so running waters, where the midsummer sun delightfully fresh with grass, it has quite the does not set; where the rosy hue of eve is tint of velvet; and close to it is the chimney, that of morp.

nay, even a cherry-tree grows out of its side, That is the bird's song, according to our now full of flowers; the wind shakes the poet's interpretation. However, he declines leaves down on a little lamb that is tethered to sit upon the stork's back, or between the to the chimney. It is the only lamb of the wings of the wild swans. “We will go for family. The old dame, who lives here, lifts it ward,” says he, “with steam, and with horses up to its place herself in the morning, and lifts -yes, also on our own legs, and glance now it down again in the evening, to give it a and then from reality, over the fence into place in the room. The roof can just bear the region of thought, which is always our the little lamb, but not more-this is an exnear neighborhood; pluck a flower or a leaf, perience and a certainty. Last autumnto be placed in the note-book-for it sprung and at that time the grass-turf roofs are out during our journey's flight: we fily and covered with flowers, mostly blue and yellow, we sing. * Sweden! thou land of deep the Swedish colors—there grew here a flower feeling, of heart-felt songs; home of the of a rare kind. It shone in the eyes of the limpid elvs, where the wild swans sing in the old professor, who, on his botanical tour, gleam of the Northern Lights; thou land, on came past here. The professor was quickly whose deep, still lakes, Scandinavia's fairy up on the roof, and just as quick was one of builds her colonnades, and leads her battling, his booted legs through it, and so was the shadowy host over the icy mirror! Glorious other leg, and then half of the professor himSweden, with thy fragrant Linnæus, with self—that part where the head does not sit ; Jenny's soul-enlivening songs ! to thee will we and as the house had no ceiling, his legs fly with the stork and the swallow, with the havered right over the old dame's head, and restless sea-gull and the wild swans. Thy that in very close contact. But now the birch-woods exhale refreshing fragrance un- roof is again whole; the fresh grass grows der their sober, bending branches; on the where learning sank; the little lamb bleats tree's white stem the harp shall hang: the up there, and the old dame stands beneath North's summer wind shall whistle therein!" | in the door-way, with folded hands, with a

Even so. In reading these pages we have smile on her mouth, rich in remembrances, seemed to hear it—that gentle summer legends and songs; rich in her only lamb on wind, breathing a mild, Northern poetry. which the cherry-tree strews its flower-blosAnd now we will take the reader to some of soms in the warm spring sun. the choicest spots which the poet visited, As a background to this picture lies the and he shall see how pleasantly and sweetly Vettern--the bottomless lake, as the comthey are pictured. Let us go to old Vad monalty believe-with its transparent water, stene-a place of ancient palaces, and of a its sea-like waves, and in calm, with · Heyrflourishing convent, where once the good St. ing;'or fala morgana, on its steel-like surface. Bridget ruled, and in whose decayed and We see Vadstene palace and town, 'the city dilapidated sacristy, it is said, her bones are of the dead,' as a Swedish author has called now resting

it-Sweden's Herculaneum, reminiscence's “ In Sweden,” says our author, “it is not city. The grass-turf house must be our box, only in the country, but even in several of whence we see the rich mementoes pass the provincial towns, that one sees whole before us—memorials from the chronicle of houses of grass-turf, or with roofs of grass-kings, and the love songs that still live with turf; and some are so low that one might the old dame, who stands in her low house easily spring up to the roof, and sit on the I there, where the lamb crops the grass on

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the roof. We hear her, and we see with fectionate intercourse returns to me. It seems her eyes; we go from the grass-turf houses, to me that I cannot confess to any other where poor women sit and make lace, once human being—the Virgin Mary, St. Bridget, the celebrated work of the rich nuns here in and the whole host of Heaven, will perhaps the cloister's wealthy time.

punish me for it. But thou knowest well

, “How still, solitary, and grass-grown are my heart's beloved, that I have never conthese streets! We stop by an old wall, sented with my free-will to these rules. My mouldy green for centuries already. Within parents, it is true, have placed my body in it stood the cloister; now there is but one of this prison, but the heart cannot so soon its wings remaining. There, within that now be weaned from the world.' poor garden, still bloom Saint Bridget's leek, “ How touching is the distress of young and once rare flowers. King John and the hearts ! It offers itself to us from the mouldy Abbess, Ana Gylte, wandered one evening parchment, it resounds in old songs. Beg there, and the king cunningly asked : ‘If the the grey-haired old dame in the grass-turf maidens in the cloister were never tempted house to sing to thee of the young, heavy by love and the abbess answered, as she sorrow; of the saving angel-and the angel pointed to a bird that just then flew over came in many shapes. You will hear the them : 'It may happen. One cannot pre- song of the cloister robbery ; of Herr Carl, vent the bird from flying over the garden; who was sick to death—when the young nun but one may surely prevent it from building entered the corpse chamber, sat down by his its nest there!'

feet, and whispered how sincerely she had “ Thus thought the pious Abbess, and loved him, and the knight rose from his bier there have been sisters who thought and and bore her away to marriage and pleasure acted like her. But it is quite as sure, that in in Copenhagen. And all the nuns of the the same garden there stood a pear-tree,called cloister sang : “ Christ grant that such an the tree of death ; and the legend says of it, angel were to come, and take both me and that whoever approached and plucked its thee!" fruit would soon die. Red and yellow pears “ The old dame will also sing for thee of weighed down its branches to the ground. the beautiful Agda and Oluf Tyste; and at The trunk was unusually large; the grass once the cloister is revived in its splendor, grew high round it, and many a morning was the bells ring, stone houses arise--they even it seen trodden down. Who had been there rise from the waters of the Vettern: the during the night?

little town becomes churches and towers. “ A storm arose one evening from the lake, | The street are crowded with great, with and the next morning the large tree was sober, well-dressed persons. Down the stairs found thrown down; the trunk was broken, of the town-hall descends, with a sword by and out of it there rolled infants' bones--the his side, and in fur-lined cloak, the most white bones of murdered children lay shining wealthy citizen of Vadstene, the merchant on the grass.

Michael. By his side is his young, beautiful " The pious but love-sick sister, Ingrid, daughter, Agda, richly dressed and happy; this Vadstene's Heloise, writes to her heart's youth in beauty, youth in mind. All eyes beloved, Axel Nilsun--for the chronicles are turned on the rich man—and yet forget have preserved it for us :--The brothers him for her, the beautiful. Life's best blessand sisters amuse themselves in play, drink ings await her; her thoughts soar upwards, wine, and dance with one another in the her mind aspires ; her future is happiness! garden.'

These were the thoughts of the many—and “These words may explain to us the his- amongst the many there was one who saw tory of the pear-tree: one is led to think of her as Romeo saw Juliet, as Adam saw Eve the orgies of the nun-phantoms in ‘Robert le in the garden of Paradise. That one was Diable, the daughters of sin, on consecrated Oluf, the handsomest young man, but poor ground. But judge not, lest ye be judged.') as Agda was rich. And he must conceal his We will read sister Ingrid's letter, sent se- love ; but as only he lived in it, only he cretly to him she truly loved. In it lies the knew of it; so he became mute and still, and history of many, clear and human to us :- after months had passed away, the town's

". I dare not confess to any other than to folk called him Oluf Tyste (Oluf the Sithee, that I am not able to repeat my Ave lent.) Maria, or read my Paternoster, without call

" Nights and days he combated his love; ing thee to mind. Nay, even in the Mass nights and days he suffered inexpressible itself, thy comely face appears, and our af- torment; but at last--one dew-drop or one

sun-beam alone is necessary for the ripe rose but whilst he spake he recognized Oluf and to open its leaves—he must tell it to Agda. Agda, and the prayer became a curse upon And she listened to his words, was terrified, the two. Anxiety and terror came over all; and sprang away; but the thought remained they drove the excommunicated pair out of with him, and the heart went after the the house, out into the biting frost, where thought and stayed there ; she returned his the wolves went in flocks, and the bear was love strongly and truly, but in modesty and no stranger. And Oluf felled wood in the honor ; and therefore poor Oluf came to the forest, and kindled a fire to frighten away rich merchant and sought his daughter's the noxious animals and keep life in Agdahand. But Michael shut the bolts of his he thought that she must die. But just then door and of his heart too. He would neither she was the stronger of the two. listen to tears nor supplications, but only to Our Lord is mighty and gracious; He his own will ; and as little Agda also kept will save us !' said she. He has one here firm to her will, her father placed her in Vad- on the earth, one who can save us, one who stene cloister. And Oluf was obliged to has proved, like us, what it is to wander submit. She was dead to him and the world. amongst enemies and wild animals. It is But one night, in tempestuous weather, the King-Gustavus Vasa! He has lanwhilst the rain streamed down, Oluf Tyste guished like us !—gone astray in Dalecarlia came to the cloister wall, threw his rope-lad- in the deep snow! he has suffered, tried, der over it, and lowever high the Vettern knows it-he can and he will help us !" lifted its waves, Oluf and little Agda flew The King was in Vadstene. He had away over its fathomless depths that autumn called together the representatives of the night.

kingdom there. He dwelt in the cloister it* Early in the morning the nuns missed lit- self, even there where little Agda, if the tle Agda. What a screaming and shouting King did not grant her pardon, must suffer -the cloister is disgraced! The Abbess what the angry Abbess dared to advise : and Michael the merchant swore that ven- penance and a painful death awaited her. geance and death should reach the fugitives. “Through forests and by untrodden paths, Lind kjöping's severe bishop, Hans Brask, in storm and snow, Oluf and Agda came 10 fulminated his ban over them, but they were Vadstene. They were seen : some showed already across the waters of the Vettern ; fear, others insulted and threatened them. they had reached the shores of the Venern, The guard of the cloister made the sign of ; they were on Kinnakulla, with one of Oluf's the cross on seeing the two sinners, who friends, who owned the delightful Hellekis. dared to ask admission to the King.

“ Here their marriage was to be celebrated. “I will receive and hear all,' was his The guests were invited, and a monk from royal message; and the two lovers fell trembthe neighboring cloister of Hussaby was ling at his feet. fetched to marry them. Then came the " And the King looked mildly on them ; messenger with the bishop's excommunica- and as he long had bad the intention to hution, and this—but not the marriage cere- miliate the proud Bishop of Lindkjöping, the mony-was read to them.

moment was not unfavorable to them; the “All turned away from them terrified. King listened to the relation of their lives The owner of the house, the friend of Oluf's and sufferings, and gave them his word that youth, pointed to the open door, and bade the excommunication should be annulled. them depart instantly. Oluf only requested He then placed their hands one in the other, a car and horse wherewith to convey away and said that the priest should also do the his exhausted Agda ; but th threw sticks same soon; and he promised them his royal and stones after them, and Oluf was obliged protection and favor. to bear his poor bride in his arms far into the And old Michael, the merchant, who forest.

feared the king's anger, with which he was “ Heavy and bitter were their wanderings. threatened, became so mild and gentle, that At last, however, they found a home; it was he, as the king commanded, not only opened in Guldkroken, in West Gothland. An hon his house and his arms to Oluf and Agda, est old couple gave them shelter and a place but displayed all his riches on the weddingby the hearth ; they stayed there till Christ- day of the young couple. The marriage cermas, and on that broly eve there was to be a emony took place in the cloister church, real Christmas festival. The guests were in- whither the King himself led the bride, and vited, the furmenty set forth ; and now came where, by his command, all the nuns were the clergyman of the parish to say prayers ; l obliged to be present, in order to give still

more ecclesiastical pomp to the festival. And over the counter, and looking out of the open many a heart there silently recalled the old door. He certainly wrote in his journal, if song about the cloister robbery, and looked be had one, in the evening : To-day a travat Oluf Tyste, praying :-"Christ grant that eller drove through the town; who he was, such an angel were to come, and take both God knows, for I don't !'-yes, that was me and thee!''

what the shop-boy's face said, and an honest There are other legends and romantic face it was. stories associated with the crumbling walls “In the inn at which I arrived, there was of Vadstene, all of which are beautifully re- the same grave-like stillness as in the street. lated by the author, but if the reader desires The gate was certainly closed, but all the to see them we must refer him to the book. inner doors were wide open; the farm-yard Pleasant will be the hour to him when he cock stood uplifted in the middle of the travsits down to read it. For the present he eller's room and crowed in order to show must be content to take another quotation that there was somebody at home. The of our selection-one somewhat differing in house, however, was quite picturesque : it manner from the foregoing, inasmuch as it had an open balcony, from which one might deals not with the recollections of the past, look out upon the yard, for it would have but exhibits a phase of Swedish life now ac- been far too lively had it been facing the tually observable. It is our author's descrip- street. There hung the old sign and creaked tion of his visit to the provincial town of Sala; in the wind, as if to show that it, at least, was and though the reader, perhaps, may think alive. I saw it from my window; I also he has noted nothing very particularly wor- saw how the grass in the street had got the thy of a traveller's attention, we doubt not mastery over the pavement. The sun shone the sketch will be accepted as being never- brightly, but sbone as into the bachelor's theless graphic and amusing. It has, to say solitary room, and on the old maid’s balsams the least of it, a pleasing, picturesque effect, in the flower-pots. It was as still as a Scotch in proper keeping with the author's plan of Sunday—and yet it was a Tuesday. One picture-writing.

was disposed for Young's 'Night Thoughts.' “Sweden's great king, Germany's pre- “I looked out from the balcony into the server, Gustavus Adolphus, founded Sala. neighboring yard : there was not a soul to The little wood close by, still preserves le- be seen, but children had been playing there. gends of the heroic king's youthful love-of There was a little garden made of dry sticks; his meeting here with Ebba Brahe.

they were stuck down in the soft soil and “ Sala's silver mines are the largest, the had been watered; a broken pan, which had deepest, and the oldest in Sweden; they certainly served by way of watering-pot, lay reach to the depth of one hundred and sev- there still. The sticks signified roses and enty fathoms, consequently they are almost geraniums. as deep as the Baltic. This of itself is “It had been a delightful garden--alas, enough to awaken an interest for a little yes! We great, grown-up men—we play town; but what is its appearance? “Sala,” | just so: we make ourselves a garden with says the guide book, " lies in a valley, in a what we call love's roses and friendship’s fat, and not very pleasant district.” And so geraniums; we water them with our tears truly it is : it was not very attractive, ap- and with our heart's blood; and yet they are proaching it our way, and the high road led and remain dry sticks without root. It was directly into the town, which is without any a gloomy thought; I felt it, and in order to distinctive character. It consists of a long get the dry sticks in my thoughts to blossom, street, with what we may term a nucleus and I went out. I wandered in the fibres and a few fibres. The nucleus is the market in the long threads, that is to say, in the place, and the fibres are the few lanes di- small lanes, and in the great street; and verging from it. The long street—that is to here was more life than I dared to expect. say long in a little town—is quite without I met a herd of cattle returning or goingpassengers ; no one comes out from the which, I know not, for they were without a doors, no one is to be seen at the windows. herdsman. The shop-boy still stood behind

“ It was therefore with pleased surprise the counter, leaned over it and greeted me; that I at length descried a human being : it the stranger took his hat off again, that was was at an ironmonger’s, where there hung a my day's employment in Sala. paper of pins, a handkerchief, and two tea. “ Pardon me, thou silent town, which pots in the window. There I saw a solitary Gustavus Adolphus built, where his young shop-boy, standing quite still, but leaning heart felt the first emotions of love, and

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