Goeta canal, past Motala, Trollhaettan, and
Gothenburg. How great, how delightful, how glorious! Dull and coarse
must that man or woman be who can make this trip without being proud of
the sons of Sweden and their peaceful avocations. In school I had read
the history of Sweden, but it treated chiefly of warfare and of the
exploits of the kings, only incidentally touching the achievements of
peaceful work and the development of social and moral culture, which, in
my opinion, are of supreme importance, and deserve the greatest honor.
But then, it must be remembered that Swedish history was at that time
written with the assumption that royalty and a few warriors are the sun
and the stars around which the whole people and the country revolve, and
from which they received their light and value. A better time has now
dawned on Sweden, and even common people are acknowledged to have a
certain inherent worth. Still I am afraid it will take some time before
old prejudices can be dispelled.

In the fall of the same year I took a trip through Finland and Russia,
having secured a passport issued by Gen. C. C. Andrews, who was then
United States minister in Stockholm. I went with the steamer Aura from
Stockholm to Abo, Helsingfors, and Cronstadt. The pine-clad islands and
shores of the Bay of Finland afforded a beautiful panorama from the
steamer. The sight of Sveaborg made me feel that I was still a Swede in
soul and heart, for I was overpowered by a deep sadness when I thought
of the heinous treason by which this impregnable fortress was forced to
surrender.

I spent several days in St. Petersburg, during which I took in the chief
sights of this grand city, such as St. Isaac's church, the monument to
Peter the Great, the winter palaces, etc. It happened to be the
anniversary of the coronation of the Czar, and I had the pleasure of
seeing the magnificent military parade arrayed for the occasion. My
American passport opened all doors to me wherever I tried to enter, and
I was treated with the greatest politeness by military as well as civil
authorities. To an uninitiated eye my personal liberty and independence
seemed just as great here as in Washington; but that was not the case,
for I knew that my every step was being closely watched.

One day my guide conducted me to a place in one of the suburbs, where
some hundred prisoners were starting on their long journey to Siberia.
He also conducted me to the Church of St. Peter and St