The Sun.
London, England, 1864-09-01 00:00:00

trifling matters of detail, particularly in our failings, the
resemblance becomes almost amusing. Before coming to
these, I have to remark that we are neither of us a nation
of diplomatists. Ido not think that we have as a nation
ever taken kindly to the craft. Ido not venture to say
whether that which is deficient in us is a loss or a gain,
but whether loss or gain the Danes are not more successful
than we are. They cherish their personal independence in
the same way as we do—their thoughts are outspoken—
their press is free—a spy is a thing as unknown to them as
it is to us—you scarcely meet a policeman in the streets,
and if you do he has nothing in common with the self-
important sergeant-de-ville whom we in England so much
dislike ; even the guards on the railway are " good fellows,"
and not overclad in their own importance; and wherever
you go you feel that this fresh exhilarating northern air
was not made to be breathed by men living under the terrors
of a petty cificialism.

Then as to our failings in common. Their cooking is of
the same unartistic kind as our own, and as far removed
from French refinements ; their shops, like our own—
though a change begins to take place in England in this
respect—are wanting in the brilliancy and arrangement,
which with other nations so sucusstully attract the travel-
ling moths as they flutter about the continent. Indeed
their character is like our own northern island, with its
wealth deeply buried in it for those who care to pierce be-
low, and etaler, or the art of display, is not an instinct
born with the Dan©. There is also a want of method and
management with them, as notwithstanding our great
workshops and manufactories, and mercantile combina-
tions, I shall always contend that there is with us, and from
the administration of a fleet down to that of an hotel I look
upon both nations as equally unsuccessful; though how
much of the blame in some of these matters is to be laid on
the shoulders of constitutional government I do not take
on myself to decide. In a word, neither Danes nor Eng-
lishmen have been born diplomatists, or cooks, or haber.
dashers ; but they both have a share of sound qualities,
and not least amongst them a healthy love of individual
reedom, which takes little account of any inconsistencies
or inconvenience which may belong to it.

The people of Denmark evidently won the heart
and captivated the imagination of the youthful
traveller—witness the closing passage of this his
very interesting tribute to them :-
1 heve read of an Arcadia, but I never thought to have
set my foot within it. In all soberness of speech, the vir-
tues and happiness of this country would lead me to give
this name to it, were it not that in the very moment in
which I first discover the picture, there is a dark curtain
which seems to be descending and blotting all out. I have
read of a "patriot-army," of peasants, end ploughmen, and
fishermen fighting for their country, and burying the care
of self, and home, and family, in that deeper love; but ex-
cept in my dreams, I never thought to have seen what I
only imagined from my school books.
As I write, I feel that there is a bitter irony laughing
through my words. My Arcadia is a prey to Uhlans and
to Croats; my patriot army stands on the eve of a trial—
where perhaps the highest science and the fullest resources
of war could not save them. Can I accredit them with
either ? can I hope That we still live in days, in which
patriot armies gain victories, and repulse the host of count-
less 'nvaders ?

Dark as are the clouds, and cruel as is the game which
is being played out, however chances may fall, and whether
I succeed in persuading you or not, I am determined to
remain constant to my own belief, that I have both visited
Arcadia, and seen a patriot army.
Do you blame me in this 19th century for cherishing two
Euch illusions, if illusions they are ?
Among the many books recently published on
Denmark and the Danes Mr. Auberon Herbert's
"Letters" may take high rank with the moat in-
teresting.