The Castle Of Vadstena On Lake Vettern.

Through Silvery Beeches.

Stockholm has incontestably the right to claim that it possesses one of the best hotels in Europe and one of the finest situations in the world. The one contributes to the enjoyment of the other. No scenery was ever spoiled for the spectator by the fact that he looked off upon it from luxurious surroundings; and nowhere is this better proved than in the Swedish capital. All travelers, for example, know how rarely one can find in any European hostelry private baths connected with its suites of rooms; but in the Grand Hotel at Stockholm these luxuries are as numerous and well-appointed as could be desired.

The Statue Of Gustavus III., And The Grand Hotel.

Accordingly, refreshed in body and serene in mind, one is prepared here to enjoy unqualifiedly the delightful view outspread before his balcony. In the immediate foreground is a spacious quay, where, all day long and far into the night, arriving and departing steamers cause a continual excitement of greeting and farewell. Vet this activity is not disturbing. Whistles and bells are rarely heard. The white hulls glide up to their moorings noiselessly as swans. Four or five times an hour, however, one sees a flutter of white objects, suggestive of a tiock of sea-gulls startled into hasty flight. It is a multitude of handkerchiefs, with which the Swedes invariably welcome the coming, and speed the parting, guest. So long as a steamer is in sight, the snowy undulations cleave the air, and just as faithfully the answers float forth from the vessel's after-deck, as if a basketful of carrier-pigeons had been suddenly let loose.

On Lake Malar.

Beyond this busy quay weeps the swift river, Xorrstrbm, rushing from Lake Malar, just above the citv, on toward the Baltic, just below. In swirls of dazzling green and white, like an inextricably mingled flood of molten emeralds and pearls, the sparkling current dances in a thousand eddies, giddy with joy, apparently, at this its exit from the land-locked lake. Meanwhile, attached to either bank, a score of steamers strain their cables, and quiver with impatience, so potent is the influence of the eager river which urges them to join it in its journey to the sea. Moreover, at frequent intervals, we see some tiny ferryboats dart back and forth from shore to shore, like shuttles weaving a beautiful carpet. Upon the opposite bank, and face to face with the hotel, stands the immense square palace of the King of Sweden and Norway, rising three stories high from a lofty terrace. The railing round the roof of this imposing building is reassuring, when one learns that on that elevation, far above the observation of his subjects, his Majesty regularly takes his morning "constitutional." Look to the right of this royal dwelling, and you will see in the centre of the river a little island,shaped like a tightly drawn bow, the bridge behind it serving as the cord. It is a garden set in the midst of the tumultuous stream, and bears the pretty and appropriate name of Stromparterre. Listen, and, if it be in the afternoon or evening of a summer day, you will hear issuing from it a selection from some opera or a strain from Strauss; for this is a popular pleasure-resort, and when at night its lamps are lighted, one might easily fancy it a brilliant barge, radiant with colored lights and resonant with music, floating clown the stream. Still farther to the right, and on the mainland, stands the hand-some Opera House, the rear of which is built up as a garden-terrace, where those who will may sit at little tables in the lingering twilight, and, far enough above the highway to escape its noise and dust, may hear the music from the neighboring island, enjoying at the same time a delightful view.

The people of Stockholm are unquestionably pleasure-loving, and to a foreigner their spirits are as contagious as their courtesy is charming. For a city of its size, it has a remarkable number of open-air restaurants and cafes, where one can take a meal, or sip his coffee, while listening to an orchestra. Notable among these are the well-known Berns' Salong in the city itself, and the still more famous "Hasselbacken" in the lovely park, a mile or two from Stockholm, called the Djurgarden. Moreover, the number of excursions to be made by boat to interesting places on or near the Baltic is practically inexhaustible. Yet one must not suppose from this that one can sail directly out from Stockholm on the open sea. Between the city and the ocean lies a network of small islands, many of which repay a visit; while on the other side extends Lake Malar, eighty miles in length, bearing upon its breast a veritable labyrinth of wooded islets which, with the winding shores, are rendered beautiful, not alone by nature, but by historic castles, royal palaces, more than one hundred villages, and twice as many pretty villas. I always think of the Swedes in summer as reveling in a long-continued holi-d a y, and eagerly extracting all the happi-ness possible from the sunshine of which they are so woefully deprived in winter. Nor is this strange. In June and July the nights have very little darkness, even as far south as Stockholm; and there is no celestial radiance so mysterious and enchanting as that which lingers at that season until midnight in these northern skies, spreading a silvery sheen upon the surfaces of sea and land, as if the sky were a vast opal, softening the light, and blending therewith its own jeweled lustre - mingled frost and fire.