em. But let them beware of
the consequence; the tyranny of wealth is still more galling and debasing
than that of rank.

Farewell! I must prepare for my departure.

LETTER XV.

I left Christiania yesterday. The weather was not very fine, and having
been a little delayed on the road, I found that it was too late to go
round, a couple of miles, to see the cascade near Fredericstadt, which I
had determined to visit. Besides, as Fredericstadt is a fortress, it was
necessary to arrive there before they shut the gate.

The road along the river is very romantic, though the views are not
grand; and the riches of Norway, its timber, floats silently down the
stream, often impeded in its course by islands and little cataracts, the
offspring, as it were, of the great one I had frequently heard described.

I found an excellent inn at Fredericstadt, and was gratified by the kind
attention of the hostess, who, perceiving that my clothes were wet, took
great pains procure me, as a stranger, every comfort for the night.

It had rained very hard, and we passed the ferry in the dark without
getting out of our carriage, which I think wrong, as the horses are
sometimes unruly. Fatigue and melancholy, however, had made me
regardless whether I went down or across the stream, and I did not know
that I was wet before the hostess marked it. My imagination has never
yet severed me from my griefs, and my mind has seldom been so free as to
allow my body to be delicate.

How I am altered by disappointment! When going to Lisbon, the elasticity
of my mind was sufficient to ward off weariness, and my imagination still
could dip her brush in the rainbow of fancy, and sketch futurity in
glowing colours. Now--but let me talk of something else--will you go
with me to the cascade?

The cross road to it was rugged and dreary; and though a considerable
extent of land was cultivated on all sides, yet the rocks were entirely
bare, which surprised me, as they were more on a level with the surface
than any I had yet seen. On inquiry, however, I learnt that some years
since a forest had been burnt. This appearance of desolation was beyond
measure gloomy, inspiring emotions that sterility had never produced.
Fires of this kind are occasioned by the wind suddenly rising when the
farmers are burning roots of trees, stalks of beans, &c, with which they
manure the ground. The devastation must, indeed, be terrible, when this,
literally speaki