for
they only put wood into them twice a day; and, when the stove is
thoroughly heated, they shut the flue, not admitting any air to renew its
elasticity, even when the rooms are crowded with company. These stoves
are made of earthenware, and often in a form that ornaments an apartment,
which is never the case with the heavy iron ones I have seen elsewhere.
Stoves may be economical, but I like a fire, a wood one, in preference;
and I am convinced that the current of air which it attracts renders this
the best mode of warming rooms.

We arrived early the second evening at a little village called Quistram,
where we had determined to pass the night, having been informed that we
should not afterwards find a tolerable inn until we reached Stromstad.

Advancing towards Quistram, as the sun was beginning to decline, I was
particularly impressed by the beauty of the situation. The road was on
the declivity of a rocky mountain, slightly covered with a mossy herbage
and vagrant firs. At the bottom, a river, straggling amongst the
recesses of stone, was hastening forward to the ocean and its grey rocks,
of which we had a prospect on the left; whilst on the right it stole
peacefully forward into the meadows, losing itself in a thickly-wooded
rising ground. As we drew near, the loveliest banks of wild flowers
variegated the prospect, and promised to exhale odours to add to the
sweetness of the air, the purity of which you could almost see, alas! not
smell, for the putrefying herrings, which they use as manure, after the
oil has been extracted, spread over the patches of earth, claimed by
cultivation, destroyed every other.

It was intolerable, and entered with us into the inn, which was in other
respects a charming retreat.

Whilst supper was preparing I crossed the bridge, and strolled by the
river, listening to its murmurs. Approaching the bank, the beauty of
which had attracted my attention in the carriage, I recognised many of my
old acquaintance growing with great luxuriance.

Seated on it, I could not avoid noting an obvious remark. Sweden
appeared to me the country in the world most proper to form the botanist
and natural historian; every object seemed to remind me of the creation
of things, of the first efforts of sportive nature. When a country
arrives at a certain state of perfection, it looks as if it were made so;
and curiosity is not excited. Besides, in social life too many objects
occur for any to be dist