tters, and M. Fridriksson
asked my uncle what he thought of the public library.

"Library, sir?" cried my uncle; "it appears to me a collection of
useless odd volumes, and a beggarly amount of empty shelves."

"What!" cried M. Fridriksson; "why, we have eight thousand volumes of
most rare and valuable works--some in the Scandinavian language, besides
all the new publications from Copenhagen."

"Eight thousand volumes, my dear sir--why, where are they?" cried my
uncle.

"Scattered over the country, Professor Hardwigg. We are very studious,
my dear sir, though we do live in Iceland. Every farmer, every laborer,
every fisherman can both read and write--and we think that books instead
of being locked up in cupboards, far from the sight of students, should
be distributed as widely as possible. The books of our library are
therefore passed from hand to hand without returning to the library
shelves perhaps for years."

"Then when foreigners visit you, there is nothing for them to see?"

"Well, sir, foreigners have their own libraries, and our first
consideration is, that our humbler classes should be highly educated.
Fortunately, the love of study is innate in the Icelandic people. In
1816 we founded a Literary Society and Mechanics' Institute; many
foreign scholars of eminence are honorary members; we publish books
destined to educate our people, and these books have rendered valuable
services to our country. Allow me to have the honor, Professor Hardwigg,
to enroll you as an honorary member?"

My uncle, who already belonged to nearly every literary and scientific
institution in Europe, immediately yielded to the amiable wishes of good
M. Fridriksson.

"And now," he said, after many expressions of gratitude and good will,
"if you will tell me what books you expected to find, perhaps I may be
of some assistance to you."

I watched my uncle keenly. For a minute or two he hesitated, as if
unwilling to speak; to speak openly was, perhaps, to unveil his
projects. Nevertheless, after some reflection, he made up his mind.

"Well, M. Fridriksson," he said in an easy, unconcerned kind of way, "I
was desirous of ascertaining, if among other valuable works, you had any
of the learned Arne Saknussemm."

"Arne Saknussemm!" cried the Professor of Reykjavik; "you speak of one
of the most distinguished scholars of the sixteenth century, of the
great naturalist, the great alchemist, the great traveler."

"Exactly so."

"One o