may remember the above slight description, if they please. Any traveller visiting Elsinore, will find this room in the north-east corner of the castle, and on the second or third floor. We walked out on the ramparts, and saw a few soldiers: wonder if any of them have the name of Bernardo or Francisco! The men on guard were lolling lazily about, not walking backwards and forwards like English or American sentries. The smooth-mown embankments, the well-mounted guns, and the "ball-piled pyramid," with the neat appearance of the soldiers, showed the good condition in which the castle is kept. No marks of ruin or decay are visible. I tried to find some musket bullet, or something besides a mere pebble, that I could take away as a souvenir, but I could get nothing. A woman was in attendance in the chapel, but no one accompanied us about the castle; no gratuities were asked, no "guides" proffered their obsequious services; but I believe the German party knew the locality, for we found " open sesame" on every latch. I thanked the fair German for her explanation; and we walked to town, back, through the avenue of trees. At four we went to a hotel, and had a capital dinner. I then strolled about the place, looked at the "sights"—all there were to be found-went to a book store and a toy-shop, and bought some prints and some little porcelain dolls. A very merry day I've had at Elsinore, on the firm earth; and now for the rocking ship. Yes, a pleasant day we've had, but perhaps we shall pay for it hereafter. Our voyage through the Cattegat had all the delay and uncertainty that ever attends these waters. Strong currents and light and contrary winds make the passage slow; but it is usually far easier coming out than going into the Baltic. In a few days we were north of the German Ocean, beating along the Norway coast with a north-west wind. We passed for two days near the land, and had a good view of the bold mountain scenery north-west of Christiansand. Long piles of mountains, reaching often clear to the water's edge, showed a poor country for cultivation. The most distant were covered with snow, but the nearest were all of that deep brown tint that reveals a scanty vegetation. Sometimes the strip of green meadow land near the water had a house on it here and there; and once or twice villages of twenty or thirty buildings were seen, all built of wood, and covered with red tiles. We saw none of those famous forests of Norway pine, where the ship timber grows, and which English ship-builders tell you is "from the Baltic." These must be in the interior. On the fourth of July* I was determined to have some fun. The captain had two small cannon on board, and I asked him if I might have some powder to wake up my patriotism. Yes, he was quite willing. I produced some of the good things needful, lemons, sugar, et cetera, and told the captain to mix a monster bowl of punch. He was good at it; the punch was capital, and was soon smoking on the table. Our cannon were iron pieces, not quite heavy enough to knock down the walls of Badajos, but still of size sufficient for our purpose. They were mounted on each side of the vessel, and revolved on swivels. The powder was furnished, and we banged away, waking up the echoes of liberty from all the Norwegian mountains. I have no doubt but the pilots along the shore were considerably astonished. Now, says the captain, we want the oration. So up I jumped to the top of the boom, and, in about nine minutes and a quarter, gave them the whole account of the cause, the means, and the manner of Brother Jonathan "lickin' the Britishers." The captain translated it for the benefit of the Danish and Icelandic passengers, and they applauded both the orator and translator. The punch was glorious, the oration was undoubtedly a grand one, the cannon spoke up their loudest; and altogether, for a celebration got up by one live Yankee, it probably has never been surpassed since Burgoyne's surrender at Saratoga. It was a most beautiful evening, and very pleasing to think that at that very hour millions of my countrymen, far far away over the plains and valleys *The Anniversary of the declaration of the Independence of the United States. of my native land, were enjoying the festivities of a day, the events of which will be remembered till time shall be no more. The weather was pleasant for some days, and we were gradually wafted towards the north-west. Vessels bound to the south-west of Iceland, from Denmark, generally sail near Fair Isle, passing between the Shetlands and the Orkneys. We were carried much further north, the ninth day finding us near the lofty cliffs of the Faroes. I thought after getting past the parallel of 60o north, in the latitude of Greenland, that the weather would be perceptibly colder; and probably it would with the wind constantly from the west or north-west; but with a south-west breeze we had mild, pleasant, summer weather. Sea-birds, particularly gulls, were our constant companions, and while near the Faroe Isles they came about us in immense numbers. One day one of these lubberly children of the ocean tumbled down on the deck, and to save his life he couldn't rise again. He was on an exploring expedition, and I've no doubt he learned something. He didn't seem to admire the arrangements about our ship very much, and altogether he seemed out of his element. We had one or two confounded ugly women on board, and I don't think he liked the looks of them very much. I pitied his case, and, raising him up in the air, he took wing and soared away. No doubt he will ever retain pleasant recollections of his Yankee acquaintance; one of a race who, enjoying their own liberty, greatly like to see others enjoy it too. We had a fine view of the magnificent cliffs of the Faroe Isles, some of them nearly three thousand feet high. They are basaltic, and often columnar, looking much like the cliffs about the Giant's Causeway and Fingal's Cave at Staffa, but far higher. We continued our course to the westward, lost sight of land, and for some days were floating on a smooth sea, with very little wind. How destitute of shipping is the Northern Ocean! For near two weeks we did not see a sail. Whales frequently came near the vessel, blowing water from their spout like a jet from a fountain. In my travels by sea I had never seen a whale before, and I looked on their gambols with much interest. The sight of them very naturally called up the words of the good old New England hymn: "Ye monsters of the bubbling deep, Your Maker's praises spout; And wag your tails about." It must be understood that I'm fond of quotations, particularly poetry; and all must admit that this is a very appropriate one. Why couldn't good old Cotton Mather, or some of his compeers, have given us some more of this sort? Perhaps he did, but if so, my memory has not recorded them. The noise of a whale spouting can be heard one to two miles off. He throws the water from thirty to fifty feet high. The whale rises clear to the surface of the water, gives one "blow" and instantly goes under. He generally rises again in one or two minutes, but is sometimes under five minutes. Once as I sat on the bowsprit watching two or three that were playing about, one swam nearly under me, rose up, blew a blast with his watertrumpet, giving me quite a sprinkling, and then sank. I had a good opportunity to see him, and got a fair view of his breathing pipe. It was a round hole in the top of his head, had a slight rim round it, and I should think was about two inches and a half in diameter. This animal, as near as I could judge, was between sixty and seventy feet in length. The top of his head and shoulders was broad and flat, and near or quite twelve feet across. His back, instead of appearing round, was nearly level, and showed room enough for a quartette of Highlanders to have danced a reel thereon. "Twould have been a rather slippery floor though, and I think a dancer would have needed nails in his shoes. Loud sung out the captain one day, and looking over the side, close to the ship, deep under the clear water, we saw a shark. WHALES AND SHARKS. 9 O! it makes me feel savage to see one of these monsters: I want to cut out his heart's blood. Many a good Christian do these villains swallow. The captain told us that one Christmas day when he was in the Pacific, a shark came near, and a large hook baited with a piece of pork was thrown into the water; he instantly seized it, and they hauled the monster up the ship's side, and an officer on board drew his sword and cut him nearly in! two, before he was allowed on deck. Each passenger took some part of him as a trophy of their Christmas-day fishing. I had a few books on board, and did the best I could to make the time pass agreeably. But with all our resources, literary, ornithological, piscatorial, and miscellaneous, there were many dull hours. One calm day I got out my writing materials, and thought I would write a letter, or a chapter of these wanderings. After getting fairly engaged, a sudden shower seemed to dash over me; and looking up, a sailor, "high on the giddy mast," while painting the yard had upset his paint-pot, and down the white shower came on my hat, coat, paper, and every thing around. We must take things coolly on shipboard, as well as elsewhere, I suppose; for there is no use in getting vexed, whatever may chance. As for the letter, I sent that to its destination, with all its imperfections on its head. I scraped the paint off my hat, and the mate and I set to work to clean my coat. After scrubbing it an hour or two, we fastened a rope to it, and, throwing it overboard, let it drag in the sea a few hours. The soap-suds and old Neptune together took nearly all the paint out, but it never entirely recovered from the effects of the shower from the mainmast. As for books, I left England with the very smallest amount of luggage possible, restricting myself in the reading line to my small Bible, Sir George Mackenzie's Travels in Iceland, and one or two more. At Copenhagen, I purchased six or eight volumes of Leipsic reprints of English works—what the publisher calls "Tauchnitz's edition of standard English authors;" some of them are English works, but by what rule of |