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About a mile behind the town of Elsinore is a small summer palace of the king, and here are the gardens called the Hamlet gardens, supposed to be the scene of that famous tragedy. I ought not, perhaps, to give judgment on the gardens themselves, as I beheld them so early in the season, that they had not recovered from the desolation of winter. Their chief ornament, at that time, consisted of about a dozen leaden statues painted white, Grecian gods and goddesses, heroes and heroines, all looking as starved and miserable as nudity in the climate of Denmark could make them. Beyond the palace, and running parallel with the sea at a quarter of a mile's distance, is a long bank covered with wood, which affords a delightful retreat for retirement and contemplation.

The

sea breeze is pure and exhilarating. The castle of Cronborg, below us, stands forth a noble and imposing object; and beyond it, the long line of

the opposite Swedish coast preserves the eye from the weariness of a waste of waters.

The castle of Cronborg is a very handsome building, and, by the Danes, accounted a strong fortress. In approaching it we have to cross three drawbridges, over as many moats. The garrison at present is slight, but the proper complement is said to be four thousand men. The view from the batteries is truly beautiful. There are vaults under the ramparts for the inhabitants of Elsinore to flee to whenever their town should be attacked. The menial offices of the fortress are performed by slaves-convicted felons who have been sentenced to this punishment. Our worthy king, James the First, spent a month in this castle. His bride, the Princess of Denmark, being detained, whilst on her passage to Scotland, by contrary winds on the coast of Norway, and, indeed, having in consequence, resolved to pass the winter in that country, her royal husband became so impatient of her absence that he resolved to go himself to meet

her. Accordingly he went, and remained some time in Norway, where he received an invitation to visit the king of Denmark, his father-in-law. The two kings met in the castle of Cronborg, then a royal residence, and the visit was agreeably spent in a round of gaiety and feastingthere being great rivalry between the Danes and Scots as to their respective capacities for drinking; and so earnest was the contention that many very surprising feats were performed on both sides. i

I fear my readers are tired of remaining so long at Elsinore, but I am particular in describing it, as it is a very good specimen of a Danish town, and, the rather, as I do not intend to be so diffuse in future. The first objects which strike the eye of a stranger in a foreign land press deeply into the memory; he examines with anxiety, and records with minuteness. But the novelty wears off in a few days; what appeared remarkable at first, becomes now matter of course, and if he afterwards meet with any thing extraordinary, it scarcely has the power to affect him with

surprise, because he is now, as it were, familiar with unusual sights. We therefore generally find that a traveller is most anxious to record his first impressions on entering a strange land, and that he afterwards observes with less attention, and narrates with less detail.

I spent a sabbath at Elsinore, and attended divine service in the Lutheran church. It is a mean building externally, but the interior is gorgeous, and encumbered with gilding and ornament. There is, however, a beautiful screen, and a noble altar-piece of carved oak. That which struck me most in the edifice, was a number of raised pews, like separate galleries, which had glazed sash windows and curtains; so that the inmate had as much privacy as if he remained by his own fireside; and should the sermon prove displeasing to his taste, he had only to close the window and draw the curtain, and he might slumber in silence and peace. Of course, these exclusive seats belonged only to the most refined of the gentry, whose sensitive

feelings naturally shrink from the popular gaze. There is also, down one of the side aisles, a whole series of these boxes with glass windows, which have much the appearance of the stalls in Covent Garden market.

The clergyman was, of course, in the Lutheran habit: a black gown, with a ruff round the throat. His sermon was long, but he had a quiet earnestness of manner, and a persuasive eloquence that pleased and attracted. I admired his discourse, though I did not understand a word of it. There were some of the congregation who understood without seeming to admire; and it is therefore probable that I returned at least as much edified as these.