The Sun.
London, England, 1864-03-31 00:00:00

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.... NEWS PAP E R
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sion, lam especially fond of coming dowk-tt -- r-. "ti74-,''?"
parsons. It has become as natural for 140 4: 1.--- ~.. 24: ‘'''''° 1:1-'
rend gentlemen to see me step upon then OF- .2' 14
hold and sit down at their tables as if I li\i"
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inmate of their house for years. Nor is thsli 1/46t,;•04.--9,......„,
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pitable welcome limited to my person alone,bui-m
arey -3- S
English friends, whom I often bring with me,
received with the same cordial benevolence as if they
really came on any plausible errand, or had any
other business there besides the gratification of an
idle curiosity. Not a shade of surprise is ever ex-
hibited at any number of visitors, at any unseason-
ableness of the hour; no inquisitiveness As to the
possible object of the call. To come all the way
from Pall-mall cr Corn'nill to lunch with a Danish
" Prediger" seems to the spreader of the feast the
most natural thing in the world. There is a splendid.
fellow of that cloth, the clergyman of a thriving vil-
lage about an English mile to the north-east of this
place, upon whom I popped about a month ago,with,
the free and easy manner of a knight-errant mistak-
ing an inn for a castle, or a castle for an inn; and with
whom I nave been on terms of the most heartvfriend-
ship ever since, (iracioes ! what a load of earthly
bleseings has Providence heaped upon that worthy
Minister of thiG)spell What a wait of snug, warm,
sZti l
high and
conafortably-furnished, and elegantly decorated
apartments hide behind that longn ows row
choice
i See of well
al onwde cheerfullyhbeuatvy thatched
o
srunony windows
t t
'What a nice underh
bound books, what a complete litter of newspapers,
what a luxury of crackling fire, what a genial,
pure, fragrant atmosphere in that delight- •
ful library ! What a maze of shady walks
in that park, what a wilderness of flowers in
those beds, what a glorious look-out from that
summer-house upon the mirror-like surface of the
Augustenburg Fiord ! What a larder and kitchen,
what melodious lowing from that steaming cow-
house, what neatness and freshness in that dairy,

//4)

of that well filled ;table ! What earthly paradise is

here to be compared to a Danish Prestegaard ?

What wealth of soil can compete with the glebe

of the worthy labourer in the Lord's vineyard ? At

he same time what man, be he either clerk or lay-

man, better deserves Heaven's favours than this same

excellent Pastor Mayer? Wealthy as he is ncw,

men recall the time when he was far richer, and

brought himself to the brink of ruin by his deeds of
charity and hospitality performed in the service of

men and officers at the time when the Danish army
was quartered in this same district of Dybbol and
Also confronting the forces of the Germans during
the Schleswig-Holstein war of 1819. The parsons
throughout North and Middle Schleswig have at
all times shown themselves loyal and patriotic even
to heroism, and have been roughly handled by the
anti-Danish party accordingly. However heavily
Herr Mayer may have suffered at that juncture, he
seems not a bit the worse for it at the present mo-
ment. He may be 50 or any number of years old,
but there is no trace of decline in that massive
square face, in that sturdy frame, in that loud
joyous humour, in that deep stentorian voice.
He may have to dine alone with his wife and
sister—the whole of his household ; but he always
sits at a table large enough and always laid out for
a score of guests. Come 10 or 20 strangers at the
very pinch of a minute, and they are as readily
cared for as if they been expected for a week.
The parson brings forth no choice wanes,
no costly viands—all is plain with him—
frugal, yet plentiful. If you do not disdain
his home-cured " speck," his peasoup, and rye
pudding, you can nowhere fare better than here ;
luxury or ostentation you must seek elsewhere ; and
if what you look for in a fellow-being is sterling
worth, you will depart after a few hours spent at the
Ulkebol Parsonage in better humour with yourself
and with the whole of your species. Nor will you
be less delighted if you try your luck with any of
his parishioners, whether your chance brings you
fo the comforts and refinement of Farmer Rosen's
grange at Ronhave, or to the mere hut of Bauer
Hansen at K'eer Westermark. Fear of any lack
of communication by the means of a common
language need hardly deter you. By hook or by
crook, every Dane seems always to have picked up
some ::crap of foreign tongue to be used for your
benefit. After Hansen has put on a blank look at
all the German you endeavour to flourish in his
face, he surprises you by stammering out a few
words of very uncouth but unmistakable French.
His wife and children may not be equally ready
with their tongue, but they are pleased to see you,
and smile their welcome. The only bane of their
otherwise too happy life is loneliness. Break
through it, and you stand before them in the light
of a benefector. Your appearance is an event, and
your look, your dress, and address, the words they un-
derstand and those they do not, will be food for their
mind and a topic for their talk for weeks. Drop them
your card, or write your name in their books, and
your pasteboard or handwriting will be a relic for
the house so long as it stands. Benevolence to the
whole human race seems to be the instinct of these
unsophisticated people. No one seems capable of
doing or receiving harm, I have not seen a weapon
in any of the hundred houses I have entered, not
a rusty old firelock hanging as a trophy on the
chimneypicce, not a sporting gun even in any of
the kitchen corners. The dog tied on the straw in
the stable -yard is no less a friend than his master.
Tramps and beggars he never sees, and knows not
how to bark. He rolls and writhes, whining in his
litter, wagging his tail, and inviting your caress by
every unmistakeable expression of his dumb lan-
guage. It is upon such a people that about 18,000
of their country's soldiers are now billeted; it is
upon them that, unless God help Denmark, as many
or more foreign invaders may at no distant time be
quartered. Heaven save them !

March 25, Evening.
We have been assured hare that the Austrians
have raised the siege of Fredericia, and left Jutland
altogether.