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himself fully with its history, politics, past and present state in regard to government, agriculture, produce, manufactures, &c., &c.

How long had he been in Sweden? I asked.

Nearly six weeks, she answered. This seems, indeed, a favourite time for authors' visits.

"Then you have to reside here much longer?" I added.

No, they were going back to France in a few days, had only that afternoon to see Upsala, and must return to Stockholm by the same boat the next morning.

I listened wondering; and the Professor coming up, I was ready to exclaim, like poor Dr. Syntax and his spouse,

"Show me this golden road to fame!

You charm my heart, you quite delight it;
I'LL make a tour, and then I'll write it."

What men can do, to be sure; six weeks to accomplish such a work! Alas! why am I not a professor? I might have manufactured half a book already on the manners and customs, the past history and future prospects, of the Swedish nation.

The whole passage on the lake to Upsala was very dreary. It is not at any time so interesting or beautiful here as it is in other parts. The prevalence of that drug in Swedish scenery, and, indeed, in Swedish ground, the fir and pine, and the nearly total absence of what are called here, curiously enough, leaf-trees-that is, all trees that bear leaves in summer and not in winter-gives a monotonous and rather heavy air to the banks, which is only occasionally diversified by the appearance of such fine places as Skokloster. And if such be the case at all times, it may be supposed what it was on a dark, rainy, and bitterly cold day.

We landed, however, and got to a hotel, and were given an immense room, with a couple of sofas in it, which at night were opened, and the treasures they contained were taken out and laid upon them; and so your sofa is turned into your bed, and your sitting-room into your sleepingroom, with very little ado. And the evening was so wet that I stayed in the house, and tried to persuade myself I was in Upsala.

I had had a vision of that place—a vision that floated before me from the far-away days of childhood-a vision of curious, old, high-peaked, and

age-blackened houses; of narrow streets, so narrow that the old houses almost met face to face; of some great old brick cathedral, speaking of Piety that had made Learning her handmaid; and a vast, dingy, old, curious-looking college of learning, with equally antique masters and reverend youths; of an out-of-the-world town, a seat of learning, where learning itself had grown musty and mouldy with the age of everything around its abode. And had not that young Herr Pastor strengthened this vision of my geography-learning days by the three points of his thesis—namely, that Upsala was the most learned universitat i verlden; 2. Upsala was the most ancient universat i verlden; 3. Upsala was the most northernly universitat i verlden.

I do think that the idea one might form of the most learned, most ancient, and most northerly university in the world agrees well with my vision of Upsala.

And, when I went out of the hotel on a sunshiny morning, I went about and about, and said, "Where is Upsala?" and my companion said, "You are in it;" and I answered, "No, I am in a clean, modern, good-looking town, of new wooden houses, painted, or coloured, in all colours, chiefly red; the streets are wide,

very

wide indeed; and the whole thing looks as if it had sprung up in a night by the work of a few carpenters' hands." There is an old orangecoloured castle, partly in ruins, up there on a great elevation, from whence you see interminably around, over one vast plain, unbroken almost by a tree; the widest, barest, most uninteresting scene I ever beheld. There is an immense brick cathedral, deformed by Swedish taste in renovation, standing in an open space: there are multitudes of men, young and middle aged, walking everywhere about with cigars, or pipes, in their mouths, and hideous boys' caps, of white jean on their heads, and no other academic dress; whenever they get together in groups, or set out on their favourite annual tours, they sing a great deal, make much noise, and generally act rather rudely. These are the students.

There is no

But where is the old universitat? such thing to be seen, except in its living representatives the plain-coated professors, and whitecapped students. Those large wooden houses, so new and modern, are the halls, and the young men lodge about as they like.

And thus was my visionary Upsala revealed to my actual sight!

VOL. I.

X

The cathedral must once have been a really grand and noble edifice; but that was in its Catholic times. The deforming spirit of Protestantism is singularly manifest in most of the churches of Sweden. The ugly wooden boxes used for pews, and the huge projecting galleries, are like those which are at last being exploded from our old churches in England.

Still, the interior of this cathedral is more pleasing than the exterior; and its tombs are in themselves a chapter of interest. The most striking instance of the triumph of Protestantism is here displayed. My eye caught a view of a chapel once appropriated to "our Lady," to whom, under this term, the well-known church in Copenhagen is dedicated. I saw a ceiling of blue with golden stars, and many paintings on the walls. I hastened on, and found a tomb with Gustavus Vasa and two of his three wives, resting thereon in effigy; and the walls covered round with scenes from his life-showing him in a peasant's disguise-showing him in battleshowing him triumphant-showing him receiving the Bible. Would that the descendants of his people used that Bible a little more than they do, either at church or at home.

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