Recent
events would seem to justify the claim. Only the other day Norway
dissolved the Union with Sweden with little difficulty, and of her
own free-will cast herself loose from the light fetters with which,
for nearly a century, she considered that she had been bound.

With Norway time has dealt kindly. In modern ages war has not
ravaged her lands. The oldest living Norseman was born too late to
fight for his country, and it is to be hoped that his grandsons and
great-grandsons may continue to live in ignorance of the horrors which
war entails. Yet are they all prepared to take up arms in defence
of hearth and home, for each able-bodied man serves his time as a
soldier, and doubtless, if occasion should arise, would prove to the
world that the old Viking spirit within him was still alive.

It is, however, the sense of restfulness pervading everything that
is Norway's charm, and even the ordinary bustle of life is unknown
outside the towns. In the summer the beaten tracks of the country
are practically in the hands of the foreign visitors, whose money
helps not a little to support many a Norse family. In the winter
things are different, as, except perhaps in Christiania, very few
foreigners are to be met with, and the Norwegians live their own lives.

The towns are neither numerous nor large, and, with a few exceptions,
are situated on the sea-coast. Perhaps a quarter of the whole
population of Norway is to be found in the towns, the remainder
consisting of country-folk, who live on their farms. What we term
villages barely exist, and the nearest approach to them is a group
of farms with a church in the neighbourhood.

Christiania, the capital of the country, is the largest town, and other
towns of importance are Bergen, Trondhjem, Stavanger, Frederikstad,
Toensberg, and Christiansand, all busy seaports and picturesquely
situated. But the interest of a country such as Norway does not lie
in the towns, which, with their wide streets, stately buildings,
well-stocked shops, hotels, restaurants, places of amusement, and
crowded dwellings, do not differ very greatly from other European
towns, and a townsman's life in his town is much the same all over
the civilized world.

Town-dwellers in all Norway number no more than the inhabitants of
Manchester, and though force of circumstance necessitates their living
in the towns, their thoughts are ever of the country--of the fjeld,
the fjord, the forest, the mountain lake, o