home yawning and half asleep. The ridiculous can never be fully enjoyed alone. On returning to my hotel, I inquired whether there were any better actors than those I had just seen. No; was the answer; the loss of Gustavus III. threw a gloom on the gaieties of Sweden, as well as its fine arts, which had never dispersed. Formerly a French company filled with splendor and talent the building dedicated to Thespis, by the late king, in la Place de Gustave Adolphe: but the fatal event of that monarch's death closed its doors, and plunged the whole country in grief. It has been no Ephesian sorrow: even the succession and virtues of the present beloved Gustavus, cannot obliterate from the minds of the people the feelings which followed the murder of his father, their revered sovereign and sire. It is really delightful to hear the Swedes talk of their kings; not as subjects merely, but as sons and brothers. As sons, they lament the munificent Gustavus III.; and as brothers glory in the magnanimity of his successor. Deep as the blow struck to the people, it fell as heavily on the young prince; for ever since the death of his royal father, Gustavus has held his image "Within the book and volume of his brain, He attempts not to wrest from the Swedes the long regrets they pay to his memory; but rather neglecting the encouragement of those gay scenes amidst which his father fell, he dedicates his attentions entirely to the political safety of his king dom. Hence the miserable theatre I visited, is the only one; and nothing is performed there, but pieces in the national language, some original, and others translations from the Spanish or French; all equally ill played and wretchedly appointed with scenery. Having made my entrance once amongst them, I can assure you, in true stage language, it was for that night only and my debut being made, my exit followed as a final take leave of the Swedish drama. Acting, when in perfection, is certainly the most interesting of all amusements: it fills the eye, heart, and mind. But when it is bad, indifferent, or merely pretty well, there is nothing to me more stale and flat, more caricaturing and libelling of the passions of men; and, therefore, an ill acted play is the dullest of all dull things. And—another and-You see how catching these bathos-ical moods are, how Alexandrinally they drawl out the sentences! And for fear the subject should still more infect my pen, I will in decent time end my epilogue, with the old assurance to my audience, of how much I deprecate their censure, and am in all humility their (that is your) very sincere, &c. LETTER XXXVII. Stockholm, January, 1808. AS I am sitting in my window, I cannot do better than give you a sketch of the moving picture in the street. The hackney sledges here differ little from those of St. Petersburgh; and the natives, like the Russians, keep their bodies warm with sheep skins; only so far changing the fashion, as to wear the skin inward, with an outward covering of cloth in the form of a coat. With respect to the private carriages (and that they have every claim to respect which mere age demands, is very evident), I cannot praise their beauty, most of them having numbered fifty years; some, passed their grand climacteric; and a few, so paralyzed by time as to threaten dissolution at every step. The liveries of the servants are in the same hoary condition, and from many a gaping mouth remind you "How the canker-worm gnaweth the chariots of the great, So saith one of their own sages, and so is it exemplified now: indeed, I never saw such memento mori in my life. How they will look on wheels, I will not presume to guess, but at present they are affixed to skates (here called pattens;) with a variety of encumbering appendages, besides two heavy footmen behind in large hats and high feathers. The poverty of this little kingdom is its apology for these gothicisms; and most forcibly do they strike strangers coming from Russia or England. But though poor, it is not mean. The poverty of the Swedes resembles that of Fabricius: they are not ashamed of it. Possessing a national power in their virtue which commands more than wealth; that nobleness maintains their consequence amid all the splendors of the two great empires between which they lie. Without pretension to pomp of any kind, they possess general respect: and, while living in simple habitations, on a fare as simple; and enjoying society without any of our accompanying luxuries; no home-concerts, balls, or assemblies of any kind, they are contented and cheerful: they are more; they can despise what buys richer nations, and be even anchorites in self privation to put arms into the hands of their king to ward off the enslaver of Europe. They repeat the names of the great Gustavuses as catholics do those of their saints; and it was but yesterday that one of them said to me: แ "Sweden was always strong enough when she fought for her liberty. In the fourteenth century, she alone routed the forces of three powerful kings armed against her freedom; and what, in the same cause, is to intimidate her now?" When the fury of ambition pours along, is it not glorious to see the enthusiasm of virtue ready to oppose it? Nought but enthusiasm, much as people in general ridicule the possessors of it, will do in these times. Our enemy is a giant in power and resource. He has the hands of Briareus, and as many wiles as if he had the same number of heads. Any thing short of a principle against him, would be worn out by his overwhelming success; any thing short of enthusiam, would be extinguished. The Swedes seem to have both; and I trust they will stand their ground. But I must not forget the city in the people, though it is the best compliment I could pay any nation. I never was in any great town that the cicerone of the place did not invite me to some spot, noted for its situation, to show the beauties of the scene. Therefore, to the top of the church of St. Catherine was I taken: and certainly a more advantageous point could not have been selected. It stands on a mountainous rock in the heart of the city. I looked around me, and found the coup d'œil novel, grand and extensive. The surrounding waters and the numerous well-built islands comprising the metropolis; the distant wooded country, filled with mansions of the nobility and others; composed a view that I seldom had seen exceeded. The royal palace formed a magnificent feature, as well as did the shipping and various bridges connecting the different islands. Fine as the prospect was at this season, it may easily be believed how the unfolding breath of summer will increase its charms. There is just as much difference between Stockholm now and then, as you see in comparing a tree without leaves, with one in full luxuriance. The city is situated on seven islands at the mouth of the Lake Maler, and divides it from the Baltic; on the shores of which have stood so many capitals of Sweden. The present metropolis was established in the thirteenth century, after the ancient town of Sigtuna was destroyed by a fleet from those coasts which now form part of the Russian empire. Stockholm has itself suffered by naval attacks, principally from Denmark: but seems now to consider danger from that quarter so remote, that no military defence is deemed necessary. Indeed the mouth of the lake near its junction with the Baltic, is so strongly fortified, that the present security appears sufficiently reasonable. There are but two pieces of water in the kingdom, of greater magnitude than the Maler; and they are in the interior. It ranks as third in size; the Weter and Wener exceeding it in dimensions, though not in use, as this lake supplies Stockholm with every merchandise from the distant parts of the kingdom; and particularly brings into the royal treasury the golden produce of the mines. The king rarely makes the capital his residence for any longer time than engages him to arrange the affairs of state; but to them he is scrupulously attentive. Helsingborg has lately been his head quarters, lying on the coast of the Sound, and containing works which his majesty is fond of inspecting, he regards it as a place of sufficient consequence to obtain from him frequent visits. It had formerly a strong castle, which was almost demolished in the wars of the last century; but the present royal attachment to the place, seems to promise it a renewal of past grandeur. Excepting when particular inducements carry him elsewhere, the usual winter residence of Gustavus is at Gripsholm; a town in the province of Sudermanland (about twenty-five English miles west of Stockholm), where he has a palace, erected by the ancient kings of Sweden. However, a circumstance has occurred which recals his majesty to the capital. It is the anniversary of the birthday of the late king; and the inhabitants of this city are arranging an entertainment with which they mean to celebrate the same, and to declare their loyalty to his beloved successor. This day, which gave birth to the monarch so canonized in all their hearts, is to open to the eyes of his son, and the nation, the statue of the illustrious Gustavus Augustus! For, with that title, so descriptive of his virtues and patronage of the fine arts, do some of them designate Gustavus III. 8 The king arrived late last night. The town was illuminated, and every preparation made for the solemnity of this day. At the hour appointed for the disclosure of the long expected work of the well known Sergel, the troops, forming the garrison of Stockholm, were out, both horse and foot, upon the hill which faces the angle of the palace where the obelisk of granite stands. The concourse of people was immense, and the day, fortunately, fine. I, of course, was there; congratulating myself that a similar scene to one I had heard described at St. Petersburgh, of the opening of the statue of a great monarch, I should be a witness to at Stockholm. The figure was covered with a temporary scaffolding, which, on a signal being given by the flight of a rocket, that his majesty was in sight, fell to the ground, and the form of their late king was beheld by the populace. Oh, what a shout was there! It was not the hurrah of surprised curiosity, but the cry of a people again beholding a father who had been rifled from them by the cruellest treachery. It pierced my heart; what must it then have done those who knew and had felt his virtues! On the edge of the water, behind the statue, were ranged |