centuries have been crowned, and where the coronation of King
Haakon VII and Queen Maud occurred, stands on the site of what was
undoubtedly the first Christian church in the country--that erected by
Olaf Trygvason in 996. Within its confines bubbles the spring which
sprang from the tomb of that later Olaf who is the patron saint of
Norway, and somewhere under its walls lie moldering the bones of
medieval kings, four of whom accepted their consecration before the
altar where King Haakon received his crown. It is a thousand pities
that hammer and chisel should have exorcised the spirits which ought
to haunt this venerable shrine. It is as if England's Abbey had been
scrubbed and resurfaced, and new noses had been provided for all the
crumbling stone kings and queens. Trondhjem Cathedral has burned down
so many times, and the work of restoration has been so sweeping, that
it takes an active imagination to invest it with the proper glamour of
romance.

Trondhjem itself is an odd place for festivities. The people say that
it is fear of fire which makes them separate their insignificant
wooden houses by such disproportionately broad streets. Certainly it
gives to the town a low look anything but imposing.

Whatever may be the esthetic shortcomings of King Haakon's coronation
city, it was amply atoned for by the enthusiasm and whole-hearted
devotion of his new people. The king and queen are in very truth "the
father and mother of the land." Even toward the rulers they shared
with Sweden their cherished warm affection until their grievances
waxed too sore. When Sophie of Nassau was on her way to Trondhjem to
be crowned, in 1873, she drove herself in a carriole from the
Romsdal, stopping perforce at humble posting-stations by the way. And
everywhere the peasants came with flowers, greeting their queen by