ion of its
soundness was shamed out of me,--or rather, would have been shamed, had
it arisen. This was not sentiment,--it was judgment,--_my_
judgment,--perhaps erroneous, yet a judgment formed from the facts as I
saw them. Therefore I determined to launch the light skiff which Ph----
and I had bought at Sleupe Harbor, and row up to the berg, perhaps lay
my hand upon it.

As the skiff went over the gunwale, the Parson cried,--

"Shall I go with you?"

"Yes, indeed, if you wish."

He seated himself in the stern; I assumed the oars, (I row cross-handed,
with long oars, and among amateur oarsmen am a little vain of my skill)
and pulled away. It was a longer pull than I had thought,--suggesting
that our judgment of distances had been insufficient, and that the
previous berg was higher than our measurement had made it.

Our approach was to rear of the berg,--that is, to the court or little
bay before mentioned. The temptation to enter was great, but I dared
not; for the long, deep ocean-swell over which the skiff skimmed like a
duck, not only without danger, but without the smallest perturbation,
broke in and out here with such force that I knew the boat would
instantly be swept out of my possession. The Parson, however, always
reckless of peril in his enthusiasm, and less experienced, cried,--

"In! in! Push the boat in!"

"No, the swell is too heavy; it will not do."

"Fie upon the swell! Never mind what will do! In!"

I sympathized too much with him to answer otherwise than by laying my
weight upon the oars, and pushing silently past. The water in this bit
of bay was some six or eight feet deep, and the ice beneath it--for the
berg was all solid below--showed in perfection that crystalline tawny
green which belongs to it under such circumstances. I pulled around the
curving rear of the eastern church, with its surface of marble lace,
such as we had seen before, gazing upward and upward at the towering
awfulness and magnificence of edifice, myself frozen in admiration. The
Parson, under high excitement, rained his hortative oratory upon me.

"Nearer! Nearer! Let's touch it! Let's lay our hands upon it! Don't be
faint-hearted now. It's now or never!"

I heard him as one under the influence of chloroform hears his
attendants. He exhorted a stone. His words only seemed to beat and
flutter faintly against me, like storm-driven birds against a cliff at
night. My brain was only in my eyeballs; and the arms that work