Tonsberg was formerly the residence of one of the little sovereigns
of Norway; and on an adjacent mountain the vestiges of a fort
remain, which was battered down by the Swedes, the entrance of the
bay lying close to it.

Here I have frequently strayed, sovereign of the waste; I seldom met
any human creature; and sometimes, reclining on the mossy down,
under the shelter of a rock, the prattling of the sea amongst the
pebbles has lulled me to sleep--no fear of any rude satyr's
approaching to interrupt my repose. Balmy were the slumbers, and
soft the gales, that refreshed me, when I awoke to follow, with an
eye vaguely curious, the white sails, as they turned the cliffs, or
seemed to take shelter under the pines which covered the little
islands that so gracefully rose to render the terrific ocean
beautiful. The fishermen were calmly casting their nets, whilst the
sea-gulls hovered over the unruffled deep. Everything seemed to
harmonise into tranquillity; even the mournful call of the bittern
was in cadence with the tinkling bells on the necks of the cows,
that, pacing slowly one after the other, along an inviting path in
the vale below, were repairing to the cottages to be milked. With
what ineffable pleasure have I not gazed--and gazed again, losing my
breath through my eyes--my very soul diffused itself in the scene;
and, seeming to become all senses, glided in the scarcely-agitated
waves, melted in the freshening breeze, or, taking its flight with
fairy wing, to the misty mountain which bounded the prospect, fancy
tripped over new lawns, more beautiful even than the lovely slopes
on the winding shore before me. I pause, again breathless, to
trace, with renewed delight, sentiments which entranced me, when,