436 Chapter VII. 



northern lights, and the moon sailing through the pro- 

 found silence. It is like a dream, like a glimpse into the 

 realms of fantasy. There are no forms, no cumbrous 

 reality only a vision woven of silver and violet ether, 

 rising up from earth and floating out into infinity. . . . 

 But this eternal day, with its oppressive actuality, 

 interests me no longer does not entice me out of my 

 lair. Life is one incessant hurrying from one task to 

 another, everything must be done and nothing neglected, 

 day after day, week after week ; and the working day is 

 loner seldom ending till far over midnight. But through 



r"> ' O O O 



it all runs the same sensation of longing and emptiness, 

 which must not be noted. Ah, but at times there is 

 no holding it aloof, and the hands sink down without will 



O 



or strength so weary, so unutterably weary. 



" Ah ! life's peace is said to be found by holy men in 

 the desert. Here, indeed, there is desert enough ; 

 but peace of that I know nothing. I suppose it is 

 the holiness that is lacking. 



"Wednesday, July iSth. Went on excursion with 

 Blessing in the forenoon to collect specimens of the 

 brown snow and ice, and gather seaweed and diatoms 

 in the water. The upper surface of the floes is nearly 

 everywhere of a dirty brown colour, or, at least, this 

 sort of ice preponderates, while pure white floes, without 

 any traces of a dirty brown on their surface, are rare. 

 I imagined this brown colour must be due to the 

 organisms I found in the newly-frozen, brownish-red 



