that I looked out from my windows. The long snow-covered place beneath them ended in a semicircle of lights; the snow-covered heights of Södormaln glittered with lights to the water's edge;' the dark statue of Carl XIII. rose solitary from the white surface of the ground; the lonely sentinel, crippled with cold, was moving beside it; in one spot, a red light burned over the snow; it was only a lantern held stationary; as the bearer went on, a flickering, streaming light flitted over the scene. That Christmas-night in Sweden was unlike any I had ever passed. Its eve had not been spent in any very religious manner; yet never did thoughts of that event surpassing all human conception, the event which angels wondered at and men despised, the advent of the Redeemer, more deeply fill my mind and penetrate my soul. The fourth time of my waking, the white clear light had darkened; I started up to light the lamp; it was already six o'clock. I was ready, however, and had even had time to send many thoughts-swifter, certainly, than even electric telegraph could carry them-to a distant and beloved land; to leave a petition, also, for some dear ones there, before the throne of Him who could send a blessing where I could only send a

thought, a wish! I soon heard the slipshod sound of goloshes coming up the long stone stairs. The men here fear to go on the cold, not the wet, ground without these constant defences. A voice spoke in the outer room, and said,

"I told my brother yesterday, that in England one must always say: 'My compliments of the season to you,' but I forgot to say so to you myself. I hope you will pardon it, Madame!"

"It is time enough," I replied through the door to my punctilious Swede, who considers himself to have acquired a perfect knowledge of our national customs, manners, and habits, and is most desirous to conform to them-"it is time enough; it is today that is said. Christmas-day, not Christmasis our great festival."

eve,

"Is it so-o? Then, Madame, I will say it now, if you will allow me.

me."

I make no answer, as I am speaking through the door; and so my tall Swede, drawing himself perpendicularly up, as stiff and straight as the door itself, makes a very low bow to it, and distinctly says "My compliments of the season to you, Madame."

And, the ceremony over, we descended the icy cold staircase, and passed over the frozen streets,

VOL. II.

I

where the firm snow crackled under our feet. They were covered with moving figures, servants carrying lanterns before ladies, and wolf and dogskin-covered coachmen waiting shivering at doors. Most persons, however, were on foot; scarcely a sledge was seen moving, nor the jingle of their musical bells to be heard. In three hours' time, full daylight might be expected, for it was nearly half-past six o'clock. A flood of light guided us to the church, which was the point of our destination. There was no gas there, but the effect was all the more curious: that great church was literally studded with candles-common tallow candles-which flared and glared in the keen morning air. The pillars were wreathed with them, the galleries set along with them in a double line; the brilliant altar, the gilt and decorated pulpit, all was in a blaze of candles; in fact, the church was dressed with lighted candles, much as our churches are dressed with holly and ivy. The profusion of candles was extraordinary, but the profusion of human creatures was more so. Far into the street, beyond the front door, that mass of people were seen standing quietly, but looking anxious. The porch, where nothing but the organ could be heard, was filled: many had their

psalm-books open. By the term Psalm-books, the whole Swedish service is to be understood. The chief part of that service consists in singing these psalms, which are not the Psalms of David, but those of Wallin, Tegner, and other celebrated modern poets of Sweden. Finding it impossible to stand in this large church, which on ordinary occasions is empty and dark enough, we left it and went to Stor Kyrkan, or the Great Church of Stockholm. There the brilliancy appeared to be greater, and the crowd scarcely less. An enormous candlestick, with seven branches, was all lighted up. It was a gift from a former Queen, in gratitude for her husband's escape from the Danes. More than twenty other candles surrounded the altar, which was in a blaze of light. The glittering and ornamented pulpit was literally wreathed with candles; and in the midst of its brilliancy appeared a plain, dark figure making into a prayer some of these metrical psalms, which are used for all purposes-to eke out a sermon, or to make up a prayer, or to be sung in a lengthened, monotonous strain by a drowsy congregation. But I must not forget that it is Christmas morning, and that I am standing in intense cold in Stor Krykan. Truly the church needs to be great, for

great is the concourse that flocks to its portals. They are most of the lower, and next of the middle classes: but one of the highest is here also, for in a grand pew, which a large gilt crown indicates as that used on state occasions by the truly amiable and beloved King Oscar, sits now that most interesting-looking and intelligent young prince, Gustaf, the second son in a really charming family, whose purely artistic head and lovely countenance create an instantaneous interest in the mind, for there is something there that causes one involuntarily to predict for such a form and face a shorter period of earthly existence. The young royal student and artist is an early riser, and here he is attending the Jul-otta. In general, however, the higher classes of this country are not the most exemplary church-goers.*

It was a curious sight to see so many people

*Alas! since this was written, the above prediction has had its melancholy fulfilment. Truly does the heart of the writer sympathise with those of the fond parents and tenderly-united family, which now are wrung with grief by the first break which has been made among them. The amiable Prince Gustaf has just died, after a few days' illness, at Christiana. The above was his last Jul-otta.