IN THE STATE OF DENMARK 121 



with stepped gables. Tall trees clustered about it, 

 and gave the simplieity that belongs to the combina- 

 tion of white walls and green foliage. Under the 

 trees was the churchyard, an unpretending and 

 beautifully-tended place, wiiere every grave was a 

 flower-bed, in perfect order and bloom; on a child's 

 headstone a white dove was perched with so brooding 

 and tender a droop of the neck towards the grave that 

 it seeriied alive and grieving. The people walked and 

 talked among the flowers and crosses in Sunday clothes 

 of the English fashion, which is the .ideal of Danish 

 dress ; yet a certain redundance of trimming and 

 fancifulness of design showed the ineradicable under- 

 lying difference. It was all very accustomed and 

 respectable, and the church itself had features with 

 which Irish churchgoers are not unfamiliar : the 

 toweringly lofty pulpit, the high, narrow pews, the 

 conversational cheerfulness of the congregation in 

 the interval before the service, the fact that just half 

 of those present sat with their backs to the altar. 

 The architecture was heavy, of the squat Gothic kind, 

 and white- and blue wash prevailed ; the gorgeous tomb 

 of a noble family glorified one transept, an organ 

 gallery filled another, and in a low alcove was an 

 ornate altar, with two massive candles, and a reredos 

 of white carving on a blue ground. The pews were as 

 narrow as wagonettes, and in each two rows of people 

 sat face to face and foot to foot in a manner that almost 

 precluded the possibility of kneeling. As no one made 

 the attempt it did not seem to matter. A species of 

 clerk took his place at the altar rails, and immediately 

 the officiating clergyman walked up the aisle in a black 

 gown with a white ruff round his neck, and bowed and 

 nodded as he came to his more intimate friends in the 

 congregation. Standing Avith his face to the altar, he 

 read many Danish prayers and collects, to all of which 



