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months, and that during four more the sun rises for only avery 
short period above the horizon; that during this long winter 
mercury freezes and the human breath falls in snow flakes 
through the air; that the ground is almost entirely covered 
with perpetual snow, even in Summer, and where it is exposed, 
is of an icy hardness, it seems almost ridiculous to talk of 
the “‘ Flowers of Spitzbergen,” and yet you see, flowers there 
are. We were there in the very warmest part of the year— 
August, when, as you know, there is constant daylight, and yet 
even at the hottest portion of the day the thermometer never 
rose as high as the freezing point. For you must remember, 
although to counterbalance the long eight months of winter 
the sun never goes below the horizon for four months of 
summer, yet his rays penetrate so vast a thickness of the at- 
mosphere, and finally strike the surface so obliquely that they 
have very little heating properties left. I need scarcely say 
there are no water plants in Spitzbergen, for the simple reason 
that there are no rivers or brooks; the nearest approach being 
a tiny trickling from the vast glaciers which occupy every 
valley, and end abruptly at the sea. Very grand objects these 
glaciersare. You may get some idea of them from this sketch 
I made from the sea, representing their appearance at the 
distance of 8. or 10 miles. You would suppose, from their 
appearance that they are much nearer, but this is in conse- 
quence of the extreme and curious transparency of the arctic 
atmosphere, which is most deceptive, as I remember to my 
cost ; for one night being becalmed at a distance of (as we 
supposed) 5 or 6 miles, Lord Dufferin and myself started in 
the small boat to pull ashore. In turn we pulled and pulled 
for several hours without apparently getting any nearer; our 
pride would not allow us to return on board, and we had to 
tow the entire night before reaching the shore, which proved 
to be some 30 miles off, and to increase our mortification, just 
as we were preparing to land—our arms and necks bitten with 
Mosquitoes—the yacht quietly glided past us into a little 
creek, and we could not fail to perceive the grin of enjoyment 
of the men at our manifest discomfiture. The spot my sketch 
represents is called the Seven Glaciers, and it presents a mag- 
nificent appearance from the sea. It appears as though seven 
gigantic rivers were suddenly arrested in their foaming and 
tumultous course and stricken into ice; the abrupt surface 
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