Gothenburg is a clean
airy town, and, having been built by the Dutch, has canals running through each
street; and in some of them there are rows of trees that would render it very
pleasant were it not for the pavement, which is intolerably bad.
There are several
rich commercial houses—Scotch, French, and Swedish; but the Scotch, I believe, have been the most successful. The commerce and
commission business with France since the war has been very lucrative, and
enriched the merchants I am afraid at the expense of the other inhabitants, by
raising the price of the necessaries of life.
As all the men of
consequence—I mean men of the largest fortune—are merchants, their principal
enjoyment is a relaxation from business at the table, which is spread at, I
think, too early an hour (between one and two) for men who have letters to
write and accounts to settle after paying due respect to the bottle.
However, when
numerous circles are to be brought together, and when neither literature nor
public amusements furnish topics for conversation, a good dinner appears to be
the only centre to rally round, especially as scandal, the zest of more select parties, can only be whispered. As for politics, I
have seldom found it a subject of continual discussion in a country town in any
part of the world. The politics of the place, being on a smaller scale,
suits better with the size of their faculties; for,
generally speaking, the sphere of observation determines the extent of the
mind.
The more I see of the
world, the more I am convinced that civilisation is a
blessing not sufficiently estimated by those who have not traced its progress;
for it not only refines our enjoyments, but produces a variety which enables us
to retain the primitive delicacy of our sensations. Without the aid of
the imagination all the pleasures of the senses must sink into grossness,
unless continual novelty serve as a substitute for the imagination, which,
being impossible, it was to this weariness, I suppose, that Solomon alluded
when he declared that there was nothing new under the sun!—nothing for the
common sensations excited by the senses. Yet who will deny that the
imagination and understanding have made many, very many discoveries since those
days, which only seem harbingers of others still more
noble and beneficial? I never met with much imagination amongst people
who had not acquired a habit of reflection; and in that state of society in
which the judgment and taste are not called forth, and formed by the
cultivation of the arts and sciences, little of that delicacy of feeling and
thinking is to be found characterised by the word
sentiment. The want of scientific pursuits perhaps accounts for the
hospitality, as well as for the cordial reception which strangers receive from
the inhabitants of small towns.
Hospitality has, I
think, been too much praised by travellers as a proof
of goodness of heart, when, in my opinion, indiscriminate hospitality is rather
a criterion by which you may form a tolerable estimate of the indolence or
vacancy of a head; or, in other words, a fondness for social pleasures in which
the mind not having its proportion of exercise, the bottle must be pushed
about.
These remarks are
equally applicable to Dublin, the most hospitable city I ever passed
through. But I will try to confine my observations more particularly to
Sweden.
It is true I have
only had a glance over a small part of it; yet of its present state of manners
and acquirements I think I have formed a distinct idea, without having visited
the capital—where, in fact, less of a national character is to be found than in
the remote parts of the country.
The Swedes pique
themselves on their politeness; but far from being the polish of a cultivated
mind, it consists merely of tiresome forms and ceremonies. So far,
indeed, from entering immediately into your character, and making you feel
instantly at your ease, like the well-bred French, their over-acted civility is
a continual restraint on all your actions. The sort of superiority which
a fortune gives when there is no superiority of education, excepting what
consists in the observance of senseless forms, has a contrary effect than what
is intended; so that I could not help reckoning the peasantry the politest
people of Sweden, who, only aiming at pleasing you, never think of being
admired for their behaviour.
Their tables, like
their compliments, seem equally a caricature of the French. The dishes
are composed, as well as theirs, of a variety of mixtures to destroy the native
taste of the food without being as relishing. Spices and sugar are put
into everything, even into the bread; and the only way I can account for their
partiality to high-seasoned dishes is the constant use of salted
provisions. Necessity obliges them to lay up a store of dried fish and
salted meat for the winter; and in summer, fresh meat and fish taste insipid
after them. To which may be added the constant use of spirits.
Every day, before dinner and supper, even whilst the dishes are cooling on the
table, men and women repair to a side-table; and to obtain an appetite eat
bread-and-butter, cheese, raw salmon, or anchovies, drinking a glass of
brandy. Salt fish or meat then immediately follows, to give a further
whet to the stomach. As the dinner advances, pardon me for taking up a few
minutes to describe what, alas! has detained me two or three hours on the
stretch observing, dish after dish is changed, in endless rotation, and handed
round with solemn pace to each guest; but should you happen not to like the
first dishes, which was often my case, it is a gross breach of politeness to
ask for part of any other till its turn comes. But have patience, and
there will be eating enough. Allow me to run over the acts of a visiting
day, not overlooking the interludes.
Prelude a luncheon—then
a succession of fish, flesh, and fowl for two hours, during which time the
dessert—I was sorry for the strawberries and cream—rests on the table to be
impregnated by the fumes of the viands. Coffee immediately follows in the
drawing-room, but does not preclude punch, ale, tea and cakes, raw salmon,
&c. A supper brings up the rear, not forgetting the introductory
luncheon, almost equalling in removes the
dinner. A day of this kind you would imagine sufficient; but a to-morrow
and a to-morrow—A never-ending, still-beginning feast may be bearable, perhaps,
when stern winter frowns, shaking with chilling aspect his hoary locks; but
during a summer, sweet as fleeting, let me, my kind strangers, escape sometimes
into your fir groves, wander on the margin of your beautiful lakes, or climb
your rocks, to view still others in endless perspective, which, piled by more
than giant’s hand, scale the heavens to intercept its rays, or to receive the
parting tinge of lingering day—day that, scarcely softened unto twilight,
allows the freshening breeze to wake, and the moon to burst forth in all her
glory to glide with solemn elegance through the azure expanse.
The cow’s bell has
ceased to tinkle the herd to rest; they have all paced across the heath.
Is not this the witching time of night? The waters murmur, and fall with
more than mortal music, and spirits of peace walk abroad to calm the agitated
breast. Eternity is in these moments. Worldly cares melt into the
airy stuff that dreams are made of, and reveries, mild and enchanting as the
first hopes of love or the recollection of lost enjoyment, carry the hapless wight into futurity, who in bustling life has vainly strove
to throw off the grief which lies heavy at the heart. Good night! A
crescent hangs out in the vault before, which woos me to stray abroad. It
is not a silvery reflection of the sun, but glows with all its golden splendour. Who fears the fallen dew? It only
makes the mown grass smell more fragrant. Adieu!