Could her baby fingers wield a sword in war?
Could her childish mind govern the nation wisely in peace?
But the Swedes do not appear to have asked themselves these questions.
Old Lars Larrson took Christina up in his arms and gazed earnestly into her face.
He had known the great Gustavus well; and his heart was touched when he saw the likeness which the little girl bore to that heroic monarch.
"Yes," cried he, with the tears gushing down his furrowed cheeks; "this is truly the daughter of our Gustavus! Here is her father's brow!--here is his piercing eye! She is his very picture! This child shall be our queen!" Then all the proud nobles of Sweden, and the reverend clergy, and the burghers, and the peasants, knelt down at the child's feet and kissed her hand.
"Long live Christina, Queen of Sweden!" shouted they.
Even after she was a woman grown Christina remembered the pleasure which she felt in seeing all of hose men at her feet and hearing them acknowledge her as their supreme ruler.

Poor child! she was yet to learn that power does not insure happiness.

As yet, however, she had not any real power.

All the public business, it is true, was transacted in her name; but the kingdom was governed by a number of the most experienced statesmen, who were called a regency.
But it was considered necessary that the little queen, should be present at the public ceremonies, and should behave just as if she were in reality the ruler of the nation.

When she was seven years of age, some ambassadors from the Czar of Muscovy came to the Swedish court.