have any
occasion to eat. Absorption must supply them with a large amount of
nutriment; but I suppose what is gained in that way is lost in the
fattening of certain other members of the household. Warmth seems to
be the principal object, and certainly it is no small consideration in
a country where fuel is so scarce.

I can not conceive of more wretched abodes for human beings. They are,
indeed, very little better than fox-holes--certainly not much sweeter.
Yet in such rude habitations as these the priests of Iceland study the
classical languages, and perfect themselves in the early literature of
their country. Many of them become learned, and devote much of their
lives to the pursuits of science. In the northern part of the country
the houses are said to be better and more capacious; but the example I
have given is a fair average of what I saw.

The passionate devotion of the Icelanders to their homes is almost
inconceivable. I have never seen any thing like it. The most favored
nations of the earth can not furnish examples of such intense and
all-absorbing love of home and country. I traveled with a native of
Reykjavik some weeks after my visit to Thingvalla, and had an
opportunity of judging what his impressions were of other countries.
He was a very intelligent man, well versed in Icelandic literature,
and spoke English remarkably well. Both himself and wife were fellow
passengers on the _Arcturus_ from Reykjavik to Grangemouth. I was
curious to know what a well-educated man would think of a civilized
country, and watched him very closely. He had never seen a railway,
locomotive, or carriage of any kind, not even a tree or a good-sized
house. We stopped at Leith, where we took passage by the train to
Edinburg. As soon as the locomotive started he began to laugh
heartily, and by the time we reached Edinburg he and his wife, though
naturally grave people, were nearly in convulsions of laughter. I had
no idea that the emotion of wonder would be manifested in that way by
civilized beings. Of course I laughed to see them laugh, and
altogether it was very funny. We took rooms at the same hotel,
opposite to Sir Walter Scott's monument. Now it is needless to say
that Edinburg is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Even
Constantinople can scarcely surpass it in picturesque beauty. The
worthy Icelander, be it remembered, had never seen even a town, except
Reykjavik, of which I have already attempted a description