The Henson Journals

[302]

Thursday, September 7th, 1911. Stockholm.

Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear

The longest date do melt like frosty rime,

That in the morning whiten'd hill & plain

And is no more; drop like the tower sublime

Of yesterday, which royally did wear

His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain

Some casual shout that broke the silent air,

Or the unimaginable touch of Time.

Wordsworth. 539.

We made an expedition to Upsala [sic], where we inspected the fine Gothick Cathedral, saw the Gothick Bible of Ulphilas, and visited the pagan Sanctities at Gamla–Upsala. The weather was favourable, & even illustrated our drive to the famous Tumuli by a benignant Rainbow. The students in their white caps are everywhere, dominating the little city with their presence. They are a tall, frank, good–looking set of young men.

After dinner the British Minister, Spring Rice, and another man whose name I missed, but who appeared to be connected with the Admiralty, called, & stayed till nearly midnight. His conversation was at once informing & entertaining. He evidently thinks little of the negociations between the Churches which have made such a noise in clerical quarters at home.

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