42 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
Dumas, by whom I have been treated with the greatest 
kindness and civility. 
On Saturday we went to Vedey, a beautiful little 
green island where the eider ducks breed, and build 
nests with the soft under-down plucked from their own 
bosoms. After the little ones are hatched, and their 
birthplaces deserted, the nests are gathered, cleaned, and 
stuffed into pillow-cases, for pretty ladies in Europe to 
lay their soft, warm cheeks upon, and sleep the sleep 
of the innocent; while long-legged, broad-shouldered 
Englishmen protrude from between them at German 
inns, like the ham from a sandwich, and cannot sleep, 
however innocent. 
The next day, being Sunday, I read prayers on 
board, and then went for a short time to the cathedral 
church,—the only stone building in Reykjavik. It is a 
moderate-sized, unpretending place, capable of holding 
three or four hundred persons, erected in very ancient 
times, but lately restored. The Icelanders are of the 
Lutheran religion; and a Lutheran clergyman, in a 
black gown, &c., with a ruff round his neck, such as 
our bishops are painted in about the time of James 
the First, was preaching a sermon. It was the first 
