228 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
unfortunate mariner, who goes poking about for the 
narrow passage which is to lead him between the islands, 
—at the back of one of which a pilot is waiting for 
him,—will, in all probability, have already placed his 
vessel in a position to render that functionary’s further 
attendance a work of supererogation. At least, I know 
it was as much surprise as pleasure that I experienced, 
when—after having with many misgivings ventured to 
slip through an opening in the monotonous barricade of 
mountains, we found it was the right channel to our 
port. If the king of all the Goths would only stick up 
a lighthouse here and there along the edge of his Arctic 
seaboard, he would save many an honest fellow a heart¬ 
ache. 
I must now finish this long letter. 
Hammerfest is scarcely worthy of my wasting paper 
on it. When I tell you that it is the most northerly town 
in Europe, I think I have mentioned its only remarkable 
characteristic. It stands on the edge of an enormous 
sheet of water, completely landlocked by three islands, 
and consists of a congregation of wooden houses, plas¬ 
tered up against a steep mountain; some of which being 
built on piles, give the notion of the place having slipped 
