istinctive
tokens of royalty observable, and there were no other attendants. Her
Majesty and the Prince were both prompt to recognize and salute us as
a stranger. The present king, Christian IX., it will be remembered,
was crowned in 1863, and is now in his sixty-fifth year. Being in
poor health, during our visit he was absent at Wiesbaden, partaking
of its mineral waters. It must be admitted that the past sovereigns
of Denmark have not always been so deserving of popular respect as
have the people of the country generally. The late king was by no
means a shining light of morality. He was married three times,
divorcing his first queen; the second divorced him, and the royal
roue ended by marrying his mistress, who was a fashionable milliner.
He first created her a countess, but he could not make a lady of her,
even in outward appearance, and she remained to the last a social
monstrosity to the court. She was fat, vulgar-looking, snub-nosed,
bourgeoise, and ruled the King in all things. She was totally ignored
by decent society in the capital, and became so obnoxious that she
nearly provoked open rebellion. However, the fortunate death of the
King finally ended this condition of affairs; and as he left no
children by any of his wives, the crown descended to his cousin the
present King, who, it is pleasant to record, has not failed to
dignify the throne.

The ladies walk or drive very generally in the afternoon upon the
Lange Linie, and are certainly attractive with their fair
complexions, light golden hair, and smiling blue eyes. They have both
sunny faces and sunny hearts, emphasized by the merriest tones of
ringing laughter that ever saluted the ear. They are lovable, but not
beautiful, excelling in ordinary accomplishments, such as music and
dancing; "but above all," said a resident American to us, "they are
naturally of domestic habits, and care nothing for politics or
so-called woman's rights, except the right to make home happy." The
well-to-do portion of the community very generally live in "flats,"
after the French and modern American style. Some large and elegant
buildings of this character were observed in course of construction
at the extreme end of the Bredgade. There is no very poor or squalid
district in the town, and one looks in vain for such wretched hovels
as disfigure so many European cities.

The Palace of Rosenborg with its superb gardens, noble avenues of
chestnut trees, and graceful shrubbery is