THE ARCTIC NIGHT. 225 



majestic glacier, do not blend one with the other. 

 Each stands forth alone, clothed only with Solitude. 

 Sable priestess of the Arctic winter, she has wrapped 

 the world in a winding-sheet, and thrown her web 

 and woof over the very face of Nature. 



And I have gone out often into the Arctic night, 

 and viewed Nature under varied aspects. I have re- 

 joiced w T ith her in her strength, and communed with 

 her in repose. I have seen the wild burst of her 

 anger, have watched her sportive play, and have be- 

 held her robed in silence. I have walked abroad 

 in the darkness when the winds were roaring; through 

 the hills and crashing over the plain. I have strolled 

 along the beach when the only sound that broke the 

 stillness was the dull creaking of the ice-tables, as 

 they rose and fell lazily with the tide. I have wan- 

 dered far out upon the frozen sea, and listened to the 

 voice of the icebergs bewailing their imprisonment ; 

 along the glacier, where forms and falls the avalanche ; 

 upon the hill-top, where the drifting snow, coursing 

 over the rocks, sang its plaintive song ; and again I 

 have wandered away to some distant valley where all 

 these sounds were hushed, and the air was still and 

 solemn as the tomb. 



And it is here that the Arctic night is most impres- 

 sive, where its true spirit is revealed, where its won- 

 ders are unloosed to sport and play with the mind's 

 vague imaginings. The heavens above and the earth 

 beneath reveal only an endless and fathomless quiet. 

 There is nowhere around me evidence of life or mo- 

 tion. I stand alone in the midst of the mighty hills. 

 Their tall crests climb upward, and are lost in the 

 gray vault of the skies. The dark cliffs, standing 

 against their slopes of white, are the steps of a vast 



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