MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.

35

great elegance. This is partly owing to their practice of multiplying copies in manuscript, of almost all the historical and poetical works written in the country, copying them in advance of their publication, and often afterwards. The manners and customs of the people have changed with the progress of time and the change in their form of government. In old times we are told, that when the Icelanders or Norwegians were about setting out on any expedition of importance, they used to have a grand feast. At these banquets, horse-flesh was one of their luxuries. Bards and minstrels would recite poems composed for the occasion; and story, song, and hilarity, added zest to the entertainment. After eating, drinking, and singing, to a pretty high degree of elevation, they would close the proceedings by throwing the bones at one another across the tables! We are not informed, however, that the modern Icelanders indulge in these luxuries. Their trade is gone, and they are now a simple, pastoral people. In complexion the Icelanders resemble the Anglo-Saxon race, often having florid and handsome countenances. They are fine figures, frequently tall, several that I have seen being over six feet in height. Light hair most usually prevails, but I have seen some that was quite dark. In a large district in the north-west of Iceland, all the men wear their beards, a practice that has been in vogue for hundreds of years. They always seem pleased when a stranger appears among them who has adopted a fashion so much in accordance with their own philosophy, with nature, and the laws of health, and at the same time that adds so much to the personal appearance of the lords of creation.

CHAPTER IV.

Ask where's the North: at York 'tis on the Tweed,

In Scotland at the Orcades; and there

At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where.

Hvar er norður ytst?

Sagt er i Jork, það sé við Tveit;

Segir Skottinn: við Orkneyjar;

En þar við Grænland, Zemblu, sveit

Sett meinar það—og guð veit hvar.

Essay on Man.

Pope's Essay; Icelandic version.

WE landed at Reykjavik at six o'clock in the morning. Though the sun was near five hours high, scarce a person was up. At this season the sun evidently rises too early for them. Sleep must be had, though, whether darkness comes or not. Reykjavik with its 1200 people, for a capital city, does not make an extensive show. The main street runs parallel with the low gravelly beach, with but few houses on the side next the water. In one respect this is a singular-looking place. Nearly all the houses are black. They are principally wooden buildings, one story high, and covered with a coat of tar instead of paint. Sometimes they use tar mixed with clay. The tar at first is dark red, but in a little time it becomes black. They lay it on thick, and it preserves the wood wonderfully. I walked through the lonely streets, and was struck with the appearance of taste and comfort in the modest-looking dwellings. Lace curtains, and frequently crimson ones in addition, and pots of flowers-geraniums, roses, fuchsias, &c.—were in nearly every window. The white painted sash contrasted strongly with the dark, tar-coloured wood. After

APPEARANCE OF REYKJAVIK.

37

hearing a good deal of the poverty of the Icelanders, and their few resources, I am surprised to find the place look so comfortable and pleasant. The merchant usually has his store and house under one roof. The cathedral is a neat, substantial church edifice, built of brick, and surmounted by a steeple. This, with the college, three stories high, the hotel, a two-story building with a square roof running up to a peak, and the governor's house, a long, low, white-washed edifice built of lava, are the largest buildings in Reykjavik. Directly behind the town is a small fresh-water lake, about a mile in length. What surprises me most is the luxuriance of the vegetation. Potatoes several feet high, and in blossom, and fine-looking turnips, and beds of lettuce, appear in almost all the gardens. In the governor's garden I see a very flourishing-looking tree, trained against the south side of a wall. This is not quite large enough for a main-mast to a man-of-war, but still it might make a tolerable cane, that is, provided it was straight. It is about five feet high, and is, perhaps, the largest tree in Iceland. Certainly it is the largest I have yet seen. The temperature now, in midsummer, is completely delicious. The people I am highly pleased with, so far as I have seen them. There is an agreeable frankness about them, and a hearty hospitality, not to be mistaken.

I have just had a ride of six or seven miles into the country, to Hafnarfiorth. Professor Johnson, the President of the College, accompanied me. We rode the small pony horses of the country, and they took us over the ground at a rapid rate. The country is rough, and a great part of it hereabouts covered with rocks of lava. We passed one farm and farm-house where the meadows were beautifully green, strongly contrasting with the black, desolate appearance of the lava-covered hills. One tract was all rocks, without a particle of earth or vegetation in sight, The lava had once flowed over the ground, then it cooled and broke up into large masses, often leaving deep seams or cracks, some of them so wide that it took a pretty smart leap of the

pony to plant himself safe on the other side. At one place where the seam in the lava was some twenty feet across, there was an arch of rock forming a complete natural bridge over the chasm. The road led directly across this. We passed near Bessasstath, for many years the seat of the Iceland college. Near this, Prof. Johnson showed me his birthplace. The house where he was born was a hut of lava, covered with turf, and probably about as splendid a mansion as those where Jackson and Clay first saw the light. Suddenly, almost directly under us, as we were among the lava rocks, the village of Hafnarfiorth appeared. This is a little seaport town of some twenty or thirty houses, extending in a single street nearly round the harbour. We called on a Mr. Johnson, a namesake of my companion, and were very hospitably entertained. The table was soon covered with luxuries, and after partaking of some of the good things, and an hour's conversation, we had our horses brought to the door. Our host was a Dane, a resident merchant of the place, and he had a very pretty and intelligent wife. They gave me a pressing invitation to call on them again, the which I promised to do— whenever I should go that way again! I returned the compli ment, and I believe with sincerity on my part. That is, I told them I should be very happy to have them call at my house when they could make it convenient. Now, some of the uncharitable may be disposed to say that all this ceremony on my part was quite useless. True, I lived thousands of miles from the residence of my entertainers, that is, if I may be said to "live" any where; and, being a bachelor, I had no house of my own, nor never had; but if I had a house, and Mr. and Mrs. Johnson would call on me, I should be very glad to see them!

I should mention that Prof. Johnson speaks English fluently; mine host, not a word; neither could I speak much Danish; but with the learned professor between us, as interpreter, we got along very well. A violent shower had fallen, while we were coming; but it cleared up, and we had a pleasant ride

JOURNEY TO THE INTERIOR.

39

back to Reykjavik, arriving about eleven o'clock, a little after sunset.

After a few days at the capital, I prepared for a journey to the interior. A traveller can take "the first train" for the Geysers, if he chooses; but that train will hardly go forty miles an hour. It is only seventy miles; but if he gets over that ground in two days, he will do well. There's plenty of steam and hot water here, and "high pressure" enough; but you may look a long while for locomotives; or—if I may perpetrate a bad pun-any motives but local ones, in the whole country. Roads -except mere bridle paths-or vehicles of any kind, as I have mentioned, are unknown in Iceland. All travel is on horseback. Immense numbers of horses are raised in the country, and they are exceedingly cheap. As for travelling on foot, even short journeys, no one ever thinks of it. The roads are so bad for walking, and generally so good for riding, that shoe-leather, to say nothing of fatigue, would cost nearly as much as horseflesh. Their horses are certainly elegant, hardy little animals. A stranger in travelling must always have "a guide;" and if he goes equipped for a journey, and wishes to make good speed, he must have six or eight horses; one each for himself and the guide, and one or two for the baggage; and then as many relay horses. When one set of horses are tired, the saddles are taken off and changed to the others. The relay horses are tied together, and either led or driven; and this is the time they rest. A tent is carried, unless a traveller chooses to take his chance for lodgings. Such a thing as a hotel is not found in Iceland, out of the capital. He must take his provisions with him, as he will be able to get little on his route except milk; sometimes a piece of beef, or a saddle of mutton or venison, and some fresh-water fish. The luggage is carried in packing trunks that are made for the purpose, and fastened to a rude sort of frame that serves as a pack-saddle. Under this, broad pieces of turf are placed to prevent galling the horse's back. I prepared for a journey of some