s on a neighbouring island, which
is all that remains of the ancient castle of Stegeborg. Nothing can be
more romantic than the scenery here, and on the whole journey over the
fiord; for it presents itself in ever-varying pictures to the traveller's
notice.

But gradually the hills become lower, the islands more rare; the sea
supersedes every thing, and seems jealously anxious to exclude other
objects from the traveller's attention, as if it wished to monopolise it.
Now we were in the open sea, and saw only water and sky; and then again
we were so hemmed in by the rocks and cliffs, that it would be impossible
to extricate the ship without the assistance of an experienced pilot.

September 9th.

We left the sea, and entered another lake, the Malarsee, celebrated for
its numerous islands, by a short canal. The town of Sotulje lies at its
entrance, charmingly situated in a narrow valley at the foot of a rather
steep hill. This lake at first resembles a broad river, but widens at
every step, and soon shews itself in its whole expanse. The passage of
the Malarsee takes four hours, and is one of the most charming excursions
that can be made. It is said to contain about a thousand islets of
various sizes; and it may be imagined how varied in form and feature the
scenery must be, and, like the fiord of the Baltic, what a constant
succession of new scenes it must present.

The shores also are very beautiful: in some spots hills descend sharply
to the water's edge, the steep rocks forming dangerous points; on others
dark, sombre pine-forests grow; and again there are gay valleys and
meadows, with villages or single cottages. Many travellers assert that
this lake is, after all, very monotonous; but I cannot agree with their
opinion. I found it so attractive, that I could repeat the journey many
times without wearying of this lovely sameness. It certainly has not the
majestic backgrounds of the Swiss lakes; but this profusion of small
islands is a pleasing peculiarity which can be found on no other lake.

On the summit of a steep precipice of the shore the hat of the
unfortunate Eric is hoisted, fastened to a long pole. History tells that
this king fled from the enemy in a battle; that one of his soldiers
pursued him, and reproached him for his cowardice, whereupon Eric, filled
with shame and despair, gave spurs to his horse and leaped into the
fearful abyss.