The population of Sweden has been estimated from two millions and a half
to three millions; a small number for such an immense tract of country,
of which only so much is cultivated--and that in the simplest manner--as
is absolutely requisite to supply the necessaries of life; and near the
seashore, whence herrings are easily procured, there scarcely appears a
vestige of cultivation. The scattered huts that stand shivering on the
naked rocks, braving the pitiless elements, are formed of logs of wood
rudely hewn; and so little pains are taken with the craggy foundation
that nothing like a pathway points out the door.
Gathered into himself by the cold, lowering his visage to avoid the
cutting blast, is it surprising that the churlish pleasure of drinking
drams takes place of social enjoyments amongst the poor, especially if
we take into the account that they mostly live on high-seasoned
provision and rye bread? Hard enough, you may imagine, as it is baked
only once a year. The servants also, in most families, eat this kind of
bread, and have a different kind of food from their masters, which, in
spite of all the arguments I have heard to vindicate the custom, appears
to me a remnant of barbarism.
In fact, the situation of the servants in every respect, particularly
that of the women, shows how far the Swedes are from having a just
conception of rational equality. They are not termed slaves; yet a man
may strike a man with impunity because he pays him wages, though these
wages are so low that necessity must teach them to pilfer, whilst
servility renders them false and boorish. Still the men stand up for the
dignity of man by oppressing the women. The most menial, and even
laborious offices, are therefore left to these poor drudges. Much of
this I have seen. In the winter, I am told, they take the linen down to
the river to wash it in the cold water, and though their hands, cut by
the ice, are cracked and bleeding, the men, their fellow-servants, will
not disgrace their manhood by carrying a tub to lighten their burden.
You will not be surprised to hear that they do not wear shoes or
stockings, when I inform you that their wages are seldom more than
twenty or thirty shillings per annum. It is the custom, I know, to give
them a new year's gift and a present at some other period, but can it
all amount to a just indemnity for their labour? The treatment of
servants in most countries, I grant, is very unjust, and in England,
that boasted land of freedom, it is often extremely tyrannical. I have
frequently, with indignation, heard gentlemen declare that they would
never allow a servant to answer them; and ladies of the most exquisite
sensibility, who were continually exclaiming against the cruelty of the
vulgar to the brute creation, have in my presence forgot that their
attendants had human feelings as well as forms. I do not know a more
agreeable sight than to see servants part of a family. By taking an
interest, generally speaking, in their concerns you inspire them with
one for yours. We must love our servants, or we shall never be
sufficiently attentive to their happiness; and how can those masters be
attentive to their happiness who, living above their fortunes, are more
anxious to outshine their neighbours than to allow their household the
innocent enjoyments they earn?
It is, in fact, much more difficult for servants, who are tantalised by
seeing and preparing the dainties of which they are not to partake, to
remain honest, than the poor, whose thoughts are not led from their
homely fare; so that, though the servants here are commonly thieves, you
seldom hear of housebreaking, or robbery on the highway. The country is,
perhaps, too thinly inhabited to produce many of that description of
thieves termed footpads, or highwaymen. They are usually the spawn of
great cities--the effect of the spurious desires generated by wealth,
rather than the desperate struggles of poverty to escape from misery.
The enjoyment of the peasantry was drinking brandy and coffee, before
the latter was prohibited, and the former not allowed to be privately
distilled, the wars carried on by the late king rendering it necessary
to increase the revenue, and retain the specie in the country by every
possible means.
The taxes before the reign of Charles XII. were inconsiderable. Since
then the burden has continually been growing heavier, and the price of
provisions has proportionately increased--nay, the advantage accruing
from the exportation of corn to France and rye to Germany will probably
produce a scarcity in both Sweden and Norway, should not a peace put a
stop to it this autumn, for speculations of various kinds have already
almost doubled the price.
Such are the effects of war, that it saps the vitals even of the neutral
countries, who, obtaining a sudden influx of wealth, appear to be
rendered flourishing by the destruction which ravages the hapless
nations who are sacrificed to the ambition of their governors. I shall
not, however, dwell on the vices, though they be of the most
contemptible and embruting cast, to which a sudden accession of fortune
gives birth, because I believe it may be delivered as an axiom, that it
is only in proportion to the industry necessary to acquire wealth that a
nation is really benefited by it.
The prohibition of drinking coffee under a penalty, and the
encouragement given to public distilleries, tend to impoverish the poor,
who are not affected by the sumptuary laws; for the regent has lately
laid very severe restraints on the articles of dress, which the middling
class of people found grievous, because it obliged them to throw aside
finery that might have lasted them for their lives.
These may be termed vexatious; still the death of the king, by saving
them from the consequences his ambition would naturally have entailed on
them, may be reckoned a blessing.
Besides, the French Revolution has not only rendered all the crowned
heads more cautious, but has so decreased everywhere (excepting amongst
themselves) a respect for nobility, that the peasantry have not only
lost their blind reverence for their seigniors, but complain in a manly
style of oppressions which before they did not think of denominating
such, because they were taught to consider themselves as a different
order of beings. And, perhaps, the efforts which the aristocrats are
making here, as well as in every other part of Europe, to secure their
sway, will be the most effectual mode of undermining it, taking into the
calculation that the King of Sweden, like most of the potentates of
Europe, has continually been augmenting his power by encroaching on the
privileges of the nobles.
The well-bred Swedes of the capital are formed on the ancient French
model, and they in general speak that language; for they have a knack at
acquiring languages with tolerable fluency. This may be reckoned an
advantage in some respects; but it prevents the cultivation of their
own, and any considerable advance in literary pursuits.
A sensible writer has lately observed (I have not his work by me,
therefore cannot quote his exact words), "That the Americans very wisely
let the Europeans make their books and fashions for them." But I cannot
coincide with him in this opinion. The reflection necessary to produce a
certain number even of tolerable productions augments more than he is
aware of the mass of knowledge in the community. Desultory reading is
commonly a mere pastime. But we must have an object to refer our
reflections to, or they will seldom go below the surface. As in
travelling, the keeping of a journal excites to many useful inquiries
that would not have been thought of had the traveller only determined to
see all he could see, without ever asking himself for what purpose.
Besides, the very dabbling in literature furnishes harmless topics of
conversation; for the not having such subjects at hand, though they are
often insupportably fatiguing, renders the inhabitants of little towns
prying and censorious. Idleness, rather than ill-nature, gives birth to
scandal, and to the observation of little incidents which narrows the
mind. It is frequently only the fear of being talked of which produces
that puerile scrupulosity about trifles incompatible with an enlarged
plan of usefulness, and with the basis of all moral principles--respect
for the virtues which are not merely the virtues of convention.
I am, my friend, more and more convinced that a metropolis, or an abode
absolutely solitary, is the best calculated for the improvement of the
heart, as well as the understanding; whether we desire to become
acquainted with man, nature, or ourselves. Mixing with mankind, we are
obliged to examine our prejudices, and often imperceptibly lose, as we
analyse them. And in the country, growing intimate with nature, a
thousand little circumstances, unseen by vulgar eyes, give birth to
sentiments dear to the imagination, and inquiries which expand the soul,
particularly when cultivation has not smoothed into insipidity all its
originality of character.
I love the country, yet whenever I see a picturesque situation chosen on
which to erect a dwelling I am always afraid of the improvements. It
requires uncommon taste to form a whole, and to introduce accommodations
and ornaments analogous with the surrounding scene.
I visited, near Gothenburg, a house with improved land about it, with
which I was particularly delighted. It was close to a lake embosomed in
pine-clad rocks. In one part of the meadows your eye was directed to the
broad expanse, in another you were led into a shade, to see a part of
it, in the form of a river, rush amongst the fragments of rocks and
roots of trees; nothing seemed forced. One recess, particularly grand
and solemn amongst the towering cliffs, had a rude stone table and seat
placed in it, that might have served for a Druid's haunt, whilst a
placid stream below enlivened the flowers on its margin, where
light-footed elves would gladly have danced their airy rounds.
Here the hand of taste was conspicuous though not obtrusive, and formed
a contrast with another abode in the same neighbourhood, on which much
money had been lavished; where Italian colonnades were placed to excite
the wonder of the rude crags, and a stone staircase, to threaten with
destruction a wooden house. Venuses and Apollos condemned to lie hid in
snow three parts of the year seemed equally displaced, and called the
attention off from the surrounding sublimity, without inspiring any
voluptuous sensations. Yet even these abortions of vanity have been
useful. Numberless workmen have been employed, and the superintending
artist has improved the labourers, whose unskilfulness tormented him, by
obliging them to submit to the discipline of rules. Adieu!
Yours affectionately.