2o SPITSBERGEN chap, ii 



walls of rock. A girl was selling pink fizzing drinks and 

 biscuits. Gregory and I lunched on them, as we lay on the 

 roof of the tower, with fjords and islands spreading 

 around — blue hills, blue sky, and waters blue. It was a 

 brief repose. Soon we were on board again, and our boat 

 was struggling against a strong tide through a narrow gate. 

 Rain drove us below to Garwood's dark-room, where 

 experimental negatives were developed, and the usual faults 

 of commercially made apparatus began to declare them- 

 selves. 



Trondhjem was reached about midnight. Here the 

 useless ponies were to be sold at as small a sacrifice as 

 might be. Here too the heavy baggage, come through 

 from London, was to be met and taken over. And here 

 our sixth, and, as it proved, very temporary member, was 

 to join us. Two hours finished the business, and left me 

 free to visit the famous cathedral, once so beautiful, but 

 now being supplanted by a modern copy, imitating the 

 work of many ages and styles with a uniform finish and 

 coldly accurate technique. Some remaining fragments of 

 the original sculpture in the soft local saponite make the 

 heart sad for what has been removed. 



The old building, interesting and charming as the accre- 

 tion of centuries, to Englishmen especially interesting for its 

 evidence of English influence in Norman and early English 

 times, has been treated as a model or mere design for a 

 new one. It is a dreadful pity. If a copy had to be made 

 one may admit that it is being well done. But who cares 

 for copies. The ruggedest wreck of an original is worth 

 them all put together. If a new building is required, brave 

 men should venture on a new design, the outgrowth of 

 themselves and their own day. 



Gregory and I went forth by the road along the left bank 

 of the Nid, vaguely aiming at the Lervoss. A mile outside 



