point where they landed on the shore of the Delaware; and by many anecdotes preserved by their Swedish annalist, Campanius. Here in the Vineland of the old Sagas did the Swedes find again the wild vine, and many glorious fruits which they mention. Here, amid these beautiful, sunbright hills and fields, they lived happily, even though under a foreign sway; “for,” says the chronicle, “the new government was mild and just towards them; but it caused them to forget their mother country.” The memory of that first colony upon these shores is, however, like the fresh verdure which covers them. I contemplated them with affection. Peace and freedom had been planted here by the people of Sweden.
In the evening we reached Cape May and the sea.
And now for the republic among the billows; not at all “high life,” excepting as regards certain feelings. It is now about ten o'clock in the morning; a very parti-coloured scene presents itself on the shore at an early hour; many hundreds, in fact more than a thousand people, men, women, and children, in red, blue, and yellow dresses; dresses of all colours and shapes—but the blouse-shape being the basis of every costume, however varied,—pantaloons and yellow straw hats with broad brims and adorned with bright red ribbon, go out into the sea in crowds, and leap up and down in the heaving waves, or let them dash over their heads, amid great laughter and merriment. Carriages and horses drive out into the waves, gentlemen ride into them, dogs swim about; white and black people, horses and carriages, and dogs—all are there, one amongst another, and just before them great fishes, porpoises lift up their heads, and sometimes take a huge leap, very likely because they are so amused at seeing human beings leaping about in their own element.
It is, as I have said, a republic among the billows, more equal and more fraternised than any upon dry land; because the sea, the great, mighty sea, treats all alike,
