and then running off, saying she had not time to speak to me.

over.

Good Friday, called here Long Friday, passed Easter Even came. Full of memories of that eve on another past-away year-a year not to be forgotten in time-not perhaps in eternityI left the room wherein I had dwelt alone, cut off almost entirely from all beyond it, and strolled into the great salong, where I found my Countesshousekeeper seated in state on the sofa, knitting.

"Now, Madame," said she, looking up with an air that told me she was prepared to make an announcement; now, if you will walk into the kitchen, you will see the reason why they have no time here in Pascal Week. Yes, you will see how well all the pans and vessels have been scoured; they are all in a row now up there; and are bright and shining like new. That looks so well; and that is our custom in Pascal Week."

I walked silently into the little kitchen, and saw a couple of dozen of copper and other vessels ranged in a row on a dresser.

"They must be all up there in a row," said Karin, putting out her hand, and making a little bow, as if presenting me to them; while Beata, with a demure smile on her face, turned away, as

if unwilling to seem to enjoy, her triumph over this evidence of my want of faith in those familiar words "Jag har inte tid."

We fell into a conversation somehow, as to different ways of keeping a week, which, by whatever name we give it, means to commemorate one event. When she had heard me relate a good many things I had done on one Easter Even, little Karin gravely said—

"Was Madame ever in a church in England on Easter Eve, where they preached all night long?" "Nay, Karin, that was I not."

"Beata and I shall go to a church where they preach all night," she added.

The idea of such a preaching was not very pleasing to me; but knowing that the term in Swedish speech always signifies the whole of divine service, I inquired where such a service would be performed.

"It is in a church that is called the Russian Church," said Karin: "would Madame like to say next year that Madame had been in a Russian Church in Sweden this Easter Even ?"

"Very much indeed, Karin; if you and Beata will take me there."

(6 Then Madame must come at eleven o'clock,

for the preaching begins at midnight. Linquist is not here, but I can take the lantern."

"The lantern will do as well as Linquist; but I am not afraid to go to church without either it or him."

"But Madame does not go to church at midnight on Easter-eve in England?"

"I think not; I wish we did do so. Perhaps we may yet."

At eleven o'clock, duly wrapped up, we issued forth in an intensely cold night, with a cutting icy wind blowing in our faces.

We got to the place, and, by means of a fee, got in at once; but though the fee was taken, we found it only admitted us to the stone stairs leading up to the chapel, which was not to open before the prescribed hour.

It was bitterly cold, and being tired I sat down on the chilling stairs. Karin seated herself at my feet, and looking demurely into my face, said,

"Has Madame ever sat on cold stone stairs on Easter-eve in England?"

"No, Karin, that have I never done."

"See then! there are some things Madame can do in our Sweden, that she has never done in

VOL. II.

. Y

England," Karin replied, gravely arranging the black kerchief on her head.

But perhaps those cold stone stairs were, after all, the pleasantest part of my Swedish Easter-even recollections.

What a scene I witnessed after ascending them! Pell-mell up these stairs rushed a rude crowd of the lowest people, mingled with a few of a decent and respectable aspect. Their conduct was the most striking illustration I could have had of the truth of an idea I had previously formed, namely, that the Swedes have no respect for any religion but their own; and that they insist on having it respected, not because it is Biblical, or Catholic, or Protestant, or Lutheran-but because it is Swedish. If any disrespect is shown to their Church or religion, it is a great offencea contempt of God-but the religion that acknowledges the same God and Saviour is regarded as matter of amusement and curiosity. The Roman Catholic Chapel on Good Friday, when the Queen was present, painfully exemplified this.

Some riotous conduct on this night certainly arose from drunken, disorderly persons, whom the decenter Swedes seemed ashamed of, and anxiously whispered to me that they were Germans; and

much fault might be found with the attendants of the church or chapel, who took no precautionary measures, but always opposed rudeness with rudeness-a rudeness indiscriminating also, since they shoved and pushed, and drove about the quiet as well as the boisterous.

In the midst of this rude scene, an apparition was beheld. A band of elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, all in evening costume, glided in; a Russian Countess, with a small cloak of light blue satin just covering her shoulders, her head beautifully adorned, was prominent among them; and now the white gloves, the ball room dresses, the air of elegance and of festive joy that one side of the Chapel, or large room, presented, contrasted almost ludicrously, undoubtedly painfully, with the rude, uncultured, dark, disorderly mass, huddled into uneasy compression nearly in its centre, intercepting between the brighter region and the gorgeously dressed choristers, who were chanting the responses at the further side.

The altar at the upper end of the room was separated by a screen formed of painted pasteboard, something like the scenes of a theatre; within it a priest of the Russian or Greek Church