After searching three years, IngÖlfr found the storm-driven pillars cast ashore in a steaming creek. He called the place Reykjavik, the Smoking Creek.

Hardly was the anchor down in the midstream before a rosy cheeked and genial gentleman came on board and introduced himself as Helgi ZoËga. He was the man with whom I had corresponded relative to arranging our trip, providing ponies, a guide and a pack train. To his quiet forethought and courteousness in after days I had much for which to be thankful. We were absolute strangers to land and people. He took us ashore in his boat and conducted us to Hotel Island where we found a comfortable, large and well furnished room. Shortly our baggage appeared by the same quiet agency. I then went to his office and spent some time in going over the plan of the route to be followed, the ponies, their equipment and the provisions to be taken.

I had been judiciously forwarned by the books of several English travellers about the snares into which the uninitiated would fall in dealing with an Icelandic guide so I was forearmed. I recall the quiet smile that scarcely spread from ZoËga’s lips when I asked about the extra straps, the extra shoes for the ponies and the price that was to be paid at the end of the journey, the reliability of the guide and if the agreement had not better be placed in writing to avoid misunderstanding at time of settlement. He replied that all was in readiness according to my wishes and his experience and assured me of a satisfactory ending of the journey. Let me state that in my long experience with Mr. ZoËga and many other Icelandic gentlemen, I was always squarely treated in small as well as in larger matters. Never has an Icelander attempted to take advantage of my ignorance. As far as my experience of four summers in Iceland goes the English statements are libels on Icelandic integrity. Could we do business in America with the same frankness and reliability we would need less bookkeeping, there would be less locking of doors and less work for the courts; we might close many of our jails and divert a whole army of people from corrective and restraining work into productive occupations.

The route decided upon, the arrangements completed to our satisfaction, Mrs. Russell and I set out to view the city of Reykjavik and receive our first impressions of Iceland. We turned our steps in the direction of the Laug, hot spring, which is about two miles from the city square. The route is along the Laugarvegur, a street with many houses of comfortable design and good construction. The hot springs are on a small stream running out of the meadow into the bay. Along the route we saw many women with bundles on their backs, boys with wheelbarrows filled with clothes and others carrying large wicker baskets. It is the “city laundry.” A long iron grill has been erected over the run-way from the boiling springs to prevent accidents. The clothes are washed in the running water and hung up to dry on numerous lines strung in the meadow. Commodious sheds have been erected for protection during rain and for ironing and repairing garments. Great piles of wool were scattered over the hillside to dry after being washed in the springs. Throughout the country the hot springs are made use of for woolwashing. The water seems to have special properties for removing the animal grease.

When we had returned from our long trip across the country in 1910 we sent a generous supply of soiled, torn and buttonless clothes to this out-of-door laundry. What was our amazement to find on its return to the hotel that the buttons had been replaced and all the rents neatly repaired. What a contrast to an American laundry!

The flow of the boiling water is quite constant throughout the year and the temperature is constant. My thermometer registered 95°C in the runway. Considerable steam rises from the water and when the air is still it is most difficult to obtain an unclouded photograph. The water is impregnated with hydrogen sulfid and a little carbon dioxid. This is true of most of the hot springs in the country.

On our return to the city we passed near the Leper Hospital, an excellent modern structure located near the sea. None but physicians are allowed admission to visit. While the Teutonic races are quite free from this ancient disease, nevertheless it does exist in Norway, around the shores of the Baltic, in Iceland, Scotland and in those portions of the United States settled by Scandinavians. It seems to effect islands and sea-coasts and because of this it is often stated that the disease in Iceland has been perpetuated by eating tainted fish in times of famine. Credit is due the physicians of Iceland in not only controlling the plague but in actually obtaining a steady decrease. This disease goes hand in hand with tuberculosis, that is, lepers are usually tubercular. Until recently tuberculosis was prevalent in Iceland owing to the damp and unventilated houses especially on the farms. Thanks to the energetic crusade of the Icelandic doctors the conditions are rapidly improving and both leprosy and tuberculosis are decreasing. The Surgeon-General, GuÐmundur BjÖrnsson, told me with considerable pride that the percentage of tuberculosis in Iceland was now less than in Europe or the United States.

Reykjavik is pleasantly situated on the north side of a headland projecting into FaxafjÖrÐr. There are two high hills in the city up which the city is slowly creeping. The ancient portion of the city is on the level ground along the waterfront. It is not the untidy and ill-smelling place that many English writers would have us believe. On the contrary it is clean, the streets are wide and well kept, running water has been brought from a distance of eight miles to the capital. The fish curing is confined to the shore as it is in all the coast towns and it is not offensive. Indeed I might cite worse conditions in the fishing centers of Old England and New England. Many a street in Edinburgh, London, Boston and New York is in worse sanitary condition than the meanest streets of Reykjavik. The stores are numerous and well stocked with European and American wares. Two of the emporiums rise to the dignity of apartment stores, where the necessities of life as well as many of its luxuries may be obtained. The small shops are numerous where specialties are carried such as shoestores, tobacconists, dairy products and stationery shops. Telegraph and telephone connect the capital with all the towns and many of the isolated farms. The submarine cable which lands at SeyÐisfjÖrÐr connects the island with the world beyond. A modern gas plant supplies illumination for the city and a convenient fuel.

The population is a little less than 12,000 and has rapidly increased during the past fifty-eight years under the influence of the new life that has come to Iceland since in 1854 the people obtained commercial liberty. In 1874 Iceland got its constitution which was amended in 1903 to the effect that the Governor must be an Icelander and reside in Reykjavik. To all intents Iceland is an independent, self-governing republic with a liberal constitution. The following is a brief outline of the government.

It has a constitution. It is governed by the Althing, a legislative body composed of a Senate with fourteen members and a House of Representatives of twenty-six members. These forty members are chosen by popular ballot and when they assemble they choose the fourteen senators from their own number. Until 1911 six of the senators were appointed by the King of Denmark under the direction of the Icelandic Governor. This virtually gave the Governor the control of the Senate. This is now abolished. This same constitutional amendment completely enfranchises the women.

The Supreme Court is located in Reykjavik and consists of two judges and a Chief Justice. Their decision may be appealed to the Supreme Court of Denmark. The King of Denmark has a veto over the acts of the Icelandic Parliament but so far it has never been exercised. With this exception and the lack of the power to make treaties, the country is virtually an independent republic under a fair and liberal constitution. Some of the progressives desire a step further and would entirely sever themselves from Denmark. Owing to their defenseless condition and the inroads of the French and English upon the fishing grounds it will be wise to keep the protection of Denmark for some years.

There are several excellent buildings in the capital. The more modern ones such as the ThinghÜs, Government Building, the SafnahÜs, Library, are pleasing in architecture and solid in construction. The ThinghÜs is situated on one side of the public square close to the Cathedral. Its interior is well arranged for legislative purposes and the decorations are simple, dignified and relieved with slight ornamentation. It contains many good paintings by Danish masters. There is a young school of Icelandic painting and some of the works are in this building. If Baedeker were writing a guide to Reykjavik he would double star “The LÖgberg,” a view towards Hengil. There are several portraits of the Danish Kings and an excellent one of Jon SigurÐsson, the man who holds the same place in the hearts of the Icelanders that George Washington holds in ours and for the same reason. He is the Father of modern Iceland but he won the constitution without bloodshed. There is a painting by Otto Bache, “The Killing of Thoranin by SkarpÐin.” Special notice should be taken of “The Ride of the Valkyrie” by P. Arbo. It is a wonderful conception and is full of action. Here also is a grand piece of wood carving made entirely with a jackknife by an Icelandic farmer as a memorial to Jon SigurÐsson. It is in the form of a frame to a pier glass and a pier stand. It is equal in design and execution to that famous carved pulpit in St. Gudule at Brussels, which was made by Verbruggen in 1669. There is an excellent bronze of Jonas Hallgrimsson who died in 1845. On leaving the ThinghÜs the custodian gave us a friendly smile and a cordial handshake. This treatment is refreshing after the customary request for the shilling, the mark or the franc as is the common experience elsewhere.

The Government House which contains the executive offices is older and much more simple in design. There are two banks in the city and one of them is housed in its own building, which was the finest in Iceland until the completion of the SafnahÜs.

This building houses over 80,000 bound volumes besides 6,000 manuscripts, many of them priceless. For a city of less than 12,000 people this is a good sized library. A thorough examination of the bookshelves and the lists of the book charges yields abundant evidence of the inborn aptness of this people for education. Mind culture reaches a high level. It is pleasing to an American to note Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary in a prominent position and a well used set of the works of the Sage of Concord, Ralph Waldo Emerson. The library contains a well balanced collection of history, literature, science, philosophy, poetry and economics, not only in the native language but in all the spoken tongues of Europe. For the benefit of those who do not read English there are translations of our masterpieces of drama, poetry and romance. I was pleased to note the evidence of much use of the American classics and almost the entire absence of that great class of light reading which lumbers our bookstalls, follows us on the train and burdens the card catalogs of the American libraries.

The basement shelters the collections of natural history and that portion devoted to Icelandic birds is practically complete. The botanical collection is far from complete and awaits the labor of some enthusiastic collector. I have seen in an isolated home far from the influence of the University a collection made by a boy that surpasses this one in the National Library. The collection of the minerals and lavas of the country forms a good nucleus and that is all. It seems strange with all the opportunities for work that some Icelandic geologist does not complete the work so well begun by Thorvaldur Thoroddsen. This man has produced an excellent geological map, as nearly complete as one man could possibly make it, considering the difficulties of travel and the miscellaneous character of the lavas. Most of the work on this topic has been done by Danes and Germans.

On the upper floor of the SafnahÚs there is a large and valuable collection of Icelandic antiquities. No visitor to Iceland, who would get a glimpse of the early times in the country, should miss this collection. When he has seen it, it will then be necessary to go to Copenhagen to view the remainder. Many of the finest things were taken there decades since. As a salve to its conscience the Danish treasury pays annually to Iceland the sum of $15,600 as “interest” on the borrowed treasures. Among the items of value we enumerate the following,—A wooden crucifix taken from a lava cave and supposed to be a Culdee relic from the days antedating the settlement by the Norse; enamelled and jewelled crucifixes from the thirteenth century; many weapons from the eleventh and twelfth centuries such as halberds, bills, two handed swords, spears and daggers; female wearing apparel from many centuries, brocaded, embroidered and variously adorned with filigree work in silver and gold; snuff horns of ivory and “horns” for mead and ale variously and richly carved; tapestry, very old, that would bring a fabulous price in the great museums of Europe; riding costumes, bridles, saddles and a great variety of wooden boxes, bowls and foot boards ornately carved. Here also is preserved the first Bible printed in Iceland bearing the date of 1584. It was printed at HÓlar by Bishop Gudbrand Thorlaksson who translated it from the German of Martin Luther and carved with his own hand most of the blocks that illustrate it. This Bible was reprinted at HÓlar in 1644 and the edition was limited to 1000 copies. The writer counts himself fortunate to possess a copy of this ancient book, which was presented to him by an Icelandic friend. It is the work of Bishop Thorlak and is translated directly from the Greek and Latin to correct some errors in Thorlaksson’s translation from the German. It is the first Bible to have the text divided into verses.

The religion of Iceland is Lutheran and is connected with the state. There are three Bishops in the country, the head Bishop is at Reykjavik and this man must go to Copenhagen to be ordained. The Bishop of Reykjavik goes to HÓlar or to SkÁlholt, dwelling-ridge, in the seats of the secondary Bishops to ordain them respectively. At the age of fourteen the children are confirmed and at that time must possess a good knowledge of reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, natural history in general, Icelandic history in detail and general history both ancient and modern. The Cathedral at Reykjavik is a very plain and uninteresting building and would disappoint the stranger did he not know that the Icelander is unpretentious in his religion. It is the internal and not the external qualities that appeal to him. The building contains one of Thorvaldsen’s masterpieces, a font which was presented to the nation by this famous son of Iceland. In the square which is close to the Cathedral and the ThinghÜs there is a large statue of Albert Thorvaldsen. It is appropriately mounted on a stone pedestal and was the gift of the people of Copenhagen at the national celebration of 1874.

Denmark claims Thorvaldsen as her son. The facts are as follows, and the reader may choose for himself the country to which he really belongs. His father was an Icelander, a wood carver, his mother was a Dane, the daughter of a parson. Albert Thorvaldsen was born at sea midway between Denmark and Iceland. Porcelain copies of his Dawn and Evening, bas reliefs, are set into many tombstones in Reykjavik. The dead white of the porcelain is in fine contrast to the cold grey of the stone. This method of ornamenting a tombstone is unique and is not without a fine touch of sentiment.

The University includes the Medical College, the Theological Seminary, the Law School besides the Liberal Arts. Medical graduates, before taking up their labors in Iceland must spend at least six months in clinical work in some approved hospital in Copenhagen. The reason is obvious. There are fifty doctors in the employment of the government and scattered throughout the country. They are all directly in charge of the Surgeon General. There is little done in science at the University. Students who wish to become proficient in any of its numerous branches must go to the Universities of Europe. Within the city there are also a Commercial School, a Nautical School and a Female High School besides the Grammar School and the common schools.

There are about fifteen newspapers published in the city and several magazines. Most of the papers are weeklies. Among these periodicals we note a Theological Journal, an Agricultural Paper, a Good Templar Journal, the “War Cry” and a Woman Suffragist Journal. No mention is here made of the essays, romances, Sagas, translations and poetry published in the city. In the bookbinding establishments the work is done by hand and it is efficient. Honest work goes with every stitch.

There are two comfortable hotels in the city and several small boarding houses. Hotel Ísland is a temperance house and is kept by a group of Good Templars. Hotel Reykjavik, which is more modern, supplies liquors. In 1909 a law was passed which forbids the importation of any liquors after 1912 and prohibits the sale of all alcoholic beverages after 1915. This is the work of the Good Templars and the anti-prohibitionists are trying to get it repealed before 1915. The service at the hotels is excellent and one dines to the accompaniment of the minor music of Iceland by an orchestra. The table surely does not lack variety and abundance is the rule. The bill of fare is after the Danish mode. One may choose from at least a dozen different dishes of meats and cured fish at breakfast and supper. Smoked salmon, eaten without further cooking, pickled fish with raw onion, anchovies, sardines, smoked herring, the breast of goose smoked and pressed with spices, duck eggs in a variety of modes, rye bread and coffee, the finest brew in the world, are among the appetizers with which one breaks his fast at ten in the morning. About two in the afternoon there is a real dinner. It is prefaced with a sweet soup of a purple hue and surprisingly palatable, then comes fish cooked to perfection, vegetables and a roast, usually mutton or veal, and a delicious dessert. The coffee is taken in the reception room or in the smoking parlor as one chooses. Oatmeal may be procured at the hotels by asking before hand to have “porridge” cooked. In all my wanderings through the country I never found it except at one farm. The supper at seven is a repetition of the breakfast. Coffee and cakes may be had at any time at a moment’s notice. Coffee is also brought to the room about seven in the morning. This with rusks is taken in bed and one is supposed to take the “coffee nap” afterwards.

Reykjavik is the commercial metropolis and the larger industries center here, although Akureyri is the clearing house for the north coast. These are the centers for exporting the fish, mutton, butter, wool, skins, etc. Nearly all the handicrafts are represented in the capital. There is a woolen mill where vaÐmal, an Icelandic cloth, is woven, a sawmill dresses the crude lumber brought from Norway. There are several silversmiths who equal the artists of Europe in delicate engraving and in filigree as well as enamelling. One man has discovered a process, which he wisely keeps secret, for coloring the precious metals.

The foreign Consuls resident in Reykjavik are only two, one from France and the other from Norway. The following countries are represented through Icelanders who are appointed by the foreign governments, England, Germany, Sweden, Belgium and Holland. The United States has no representation whatever.

The Thorvaldsen Bazar is an attractive place, verging upon a museum of antiquities. It is coÖperative and the proceeds go to a charity. It is conducted by groups of ladies who give their time. Many women on the farms knit stockings, mittens, gloves, make skin shoes, embroidery in linen and send the items to the bazar to be sold on commission. There are also exposed for sale stuffed birds, minerals, odd items such as footboards, horn spoons, snuff horns, skyr bowls and a great variety of other items that have long been hoarded by families in the interior. Some of the carved pieces of wood are of great age and the carving is artistically done. The foot board is of interest and as reference to it will be made later in connection with the homes of the people I will describe the one which now adorns my guest room wall. It is made of Norway spruce, four feet long and seven inches wide. It is ornately carved on both sides. On one side there are three circles five and one half inches in diameter, one at each end and one in the middle. The circles are cut to represent Balder’s brÁ, marguerite, which blooms abundantly throughout the country near the coast. The central circle shows only the ends of the numerous petals while the center of the circle is used for engraving the name and the date, 1868. Between the two circles at either side of the center a prayer is carved in the Ogam rune. On the reverse side there is a series of six prows of the Viking ship. The design of the prow of the ancient ship lends itself well to the wood carver and it appears in a variety of forms on the ancient as well as the modern pieces. There is an expert wood carver in Reykjavik and it is well worth while to visit StefÁn Eiriksson in his workshop. I have before me a skyr Áskr, bowl for curds. In old times each person had his own Áskr which he carved to suit his fancy. This one is completely covered with fine carving. The handles represent dragons and to the back of one with a wooden hinge is attached the cover. The center of the cover is carved to represent Balder’s brÁ. It is a beautiful piece of work and is carved out of a solid piece of the Iceland birch.

There are several good photographers in the city and one of them, M. Ólafsson, has made excellent stereoscopic views of the natural wonders of Iceland. He has travelled over most of the country to obtain the negatives and he made his own stereoscopic camera as well as the different cameras in his studio. There are several shops where good photographs may be obtained. The city has an excellent public bath with steam, shower, hot and cold water. There are two hospitals, Chemist’s shops, (drug stores), barbers, in fact every thing required in civilized life.

We know so little of Iceland. Its very name suggests all the cold and inhospitable conditions of the north and the stranger unread in Icelandic conditions has many a surprise in store. The worst thing I know about Iceland is its name. It should have been christened Fireland.

The climate of Iceland is exceedingly mild in winter and in the summer it never gets very warm. The annual mean temperature of the extreme north is about 2°C. lower than in the south. The climate changes very little with the latitude but more with the glaciers, the coast and the solfataras. The following table, compiled from the Meteorological Records at BerufjÖrÐr, will convey a good idea of the conditions in the country. This table covers twenty-five years for the Max. and Min. temperatures. The station is in Long. 14° 15´ W., Lat. 64° 40´ N. and it is 55 feet above the sea. The temperatures are given in degrees Centigrade.

When we recall that zero on the Centigrade thermometer is the freezing point these figures will correct our erroneous ideas of the extreme low temperatures which we have ever associated with Iceland. The lowest temperature in twenty-five years at this station was only nine and one half degrees below zero on the Fahrenheit scale. During the summer of 1910 I travelled in the north and crossed the country in the vicinity of the western glaciers and the lowest temperature recorded during six weeks was 32°F. in a mountain pass in the north and the highest was 56°F. the mean for the entire time was 44°F. All these temperatures were taken in the shade at 7 A. M., Noon and 9 P. M.

At the summer solstice the midnight sun is just visible in the south and at longer periods in the north on the table lands. Even after the sun has set, it is as light as day and one can read at midnight in the houses during several weeks.

In a country so diversified with sea, glaciers, naked volcanoes, uplands and rivers the sunsets are glorious. Many nights have I climbed the hill back of the city at eleven to watch the sunset and to be present at the ushering in of the dawn. Below me lay the dreaming city with here and there a strolling couple by the waterside. South and east the scattered peaks of the Fire Peninsula, though twenty miles distant they seemed in the clear atmosphere to be near at hand and the purple perfect cone of Keilir, Tusk, stood apart, a guardian of the fire group beyond. Behind me stretched the long and precipitous table land of Esja, its slopes scarred and ragged and the patches of pale green sphagnum marking the location of the water pockets in the debris. It was crowned with a heavy cap of ice and the fluttering folds of fog hung over it like the bridal veil of an Icelandic maid. To the west and north is spread the broad and glimmering bay of Faxa while sixty miles beyond, though appearing less than half that distance, Snaefells JÖkull at the head of its regiment of volcanic cones towers from the sea.

It is midnight, local time. The sun has been in his ocean bath for thirty minutes and in an equal length of time he will emerge near by the locality of his plunge. It is an entrancing scene and recalls the Twilight of the Gods. The heavens are overcast with a rose-flesh hue of varying tones. No stars dot the bending dome, no moon skirts the far horizon. The Faxa is like a molten sea of precious metal and across it roll billows of purple light which striking the base of Keilir, surge to its pointed summit in waves of lighter hue to break in confusion on the distant volcanoes. Esja catches the color of the sky, its dripping parapet glistens as at noon and its ice mantle is transformed into rosy quartz. The crowning glory of the moment is Snaefells. Behind it is the sun. A broad streamer rises vertically to the zenith from behind the mountain. It splits the warmer shades with a band of saffron. It spreads outward like an opening fan. Snaefells is the jewel in the end of the fan handle. The fan unfolds until a full quadrant of the heavens have turned to gold with radiating streaks of crimson. The ice-cap has become a ruby and Esja a fiery opal. Kaleidoscopic is the change. Like the Borealis the colors come and go, the mists open and close and the tints deepen. Esja lives doubly in the bosom of the fiord within whose shadow the fishing fleet rock gently at their moorings. Even the ribbons of mist are imaged in the sea and in those vast depths drift softly like the real ones of the upper air. The cone of Keilir brightens, the slumbering tints burst into fire, the fire resolves itself into white light. The sun has risen from its midnight bath, morning has come and I seek the hotel conscious that neither pen nor brush can catch the true values of this great harmony of colors, that it is impossible to set it to meter or spread it upon the canvas. But it lives indelibly in the soul of the poet, the painter and the musician. Yes it is music, a great symphony,—