THE ARCTIC SUMMER. 397 



There is truly a rare charm in the Arctic summer, 

 especially if watched unfolding from the darkness, 

 and followed through the growing warmth, until the 

 snows are loosened from the hills and the fountains 

 burst forth, and the feeble flower-growths spring into 

 being, and the birds come back with their merry 

 music; and then again as it passes away, under 

 the dark shadow of a sunless sky, — the fountains 

 sealing up, the hill-sides and valleys taking on again 

 the white robes of winter and the stillness of the tomb, 

 the birds in rapid flight with the retreating day, and 

 the mantle of darkness settling upon the mountains, 

 and overspreading the plain. 



To describe the summer as I have before described 

 the winter, and to attempt fully to picture in detail 

 those features which give it such a striking contrast to 

 the winter as is not seen in any other quarter of the 

 worlds would too far prolong this narrative ; and I 

 will therefore content myself with selecting from my 

 diary such extracts as will show the progress of the 

 season, and those occupations of myself and associates 

 that bore upon the purposes which we had mainly in 

 view. 



June 2 2d. 



It is just six months since I wrote, " The sun 

 has reached to-day its greatest southern declination, 

 and we have passed the Arctic midnight ; " and now 

 the sun has reached its greatest northern declina- 

 tion, and we have passed the Arctic noonday. Con- 

 stant light has succeeded constant darkness, a bright 

 and cheerful world has banished a painful solitude ; — 



" The winter is past and gone ; the flowers appear on the earth ; 

 the time of the singing of birds is come ; " 



and the long night which the glad day has succeeded 

 is remembered as a strange dream. 



