e main street, and lesser thoroughfares of Gottenborg; and along the
banks are planted rows of trees, which give the town a lively
appearance. As I crossed the bridges, I saw, on floating platforms, a
shoal of washerwomen scouring and thrashing lustily, with an instrument
like a shuttle, the wardrobe of their customers. When I first arrived at
Gottenborg, I thought myself in Holland, the mode of dress, and aspect
of the town bearing so close a resemblance to Rotterdam.

On Tuesday morning, the 1st of June, at eleven o'clock, just one month
after our departure from Greenwich, we left Sweden for Norway. The time
had glided pleasantly and speedily away; and, wherever we had gone,
kindness and hospitality always awaited us. We had brought from England
few letters of introduction, and, at some places where we went, on our
first arrival, knew no one; but here, as here at Gottenborg, not many
hours would elapse before the doors of these simple and generous hearted
people were opened to us; and, the greatest delight was evinced, when we
entered their houses.

Gottenborg was founded by the great Gustavus Adolphus. The town is
situated, like all the towns of Scandinavia, on a fiord of its own name,
sleeping with all the placid beauty of a lake; but there is so much
monotony in the romantic position of the Swedish and Norwegian towns,
that, to describe one is to describe all. There are one or two fine
buildings in Gottenborg; and the many villas in its neighbourhood,
invariably bosomed in thickly wooded valleys, urged me to remember an
old tradition among the Swedish Laplanders, which has not been lost on
the Swedes. They maintain the Swedes and the Lapps were originally
brothers. A storm burst; the Swede was frightened, and took shelter
under a board, which God made into a house; but the Lapp, unappalled,
remained without. Since that time, the Swedes dwell in houses, but the
Lapps under the bare sky.

What Venice was to ancient Italy, Gottenborg was to Sweden, the national
mart; but Time, with ravages and alterations, has swept away its
traffic. A Swedish fisherman told me, that the herrings, which used to
be so plentiful in the adjacent waters, are now scarcely to be caught;
and Gottenborg feels the defection of their extensive sale. The same man
asserted, that our ships of war, going up the Baltic, were wont to fire
salutes, and the noise had driven the fish away. The fisherman made this
statement so roundly, that I could not