XIII.] SIGURD R. 247 



in the soil of one's own country, which may account for that 

 impatient desire to see it again, which always grows, as the 

 distance from it diminishes ; if so, London clay, — and its 

 superstratum of foul, greasy, gas-discoloured mud — began 

 about this time to exercise a tender influence upon me, 

 which has been increasing every hour since : it is just pos- 

 sible that the thoughts of seeing you again may have some 

 share in the matter. 



Somebody (I think Fuller) says somewhere, that " every 

 one with whom you . converse, and every place wherein you 

 tarry awhile, giveth somewhat to you, and taketh somewhat 

 away, either for evil or for good ; ;; a startling consideration 

 for circumnavigators, and such like restless spirits ; but a 

 comfortable thought, in some respects, for voyagers to Polar 

 regions, as (except seals and bears) few things could suffer 

 evil from us there ; though for our own parts, there were 

 solemn and wholesome influences enough "to be taken 

 away " from those icy solitudes, if one were but ready and 

 willing to " stow " them. 



To-morrow I leave Copenhagen, and my good Sigurdr, 

 whose companionship has been a constant source of enjoy- 

 ment, both to Fitz and myself, during the whole voyage ; I 

 trust that I leave with him a friendly remembrance of our too 

 short connexion, and pleasant thoughts of the strange places 

 and things we have seen together ; as I take away with me 

 a most affectionate memory of his frank and kindly nature, 

 his ready sympathy, and his imperturbable good humour. 

 From the day on which I shipped him — an entire stranger 

 — until this eve of our separation — as friends, through scenes 

 of occasional discomfort, and circumstances which might 

 sometimes have tried both temper and spirits — shut up as 

 we were for four months in the necessarily close commu- 

 nion of life on board a vessel of eighty tons, — there has 

 never been the shadow of a cloud between us ; henceforth, 

 the words " an Icelander " can convey no cold or ungenial 

 associations to my ears, and however much my imagination 

 has hitherto delighted in the past history of that singular 



