
 
        
         
		it,  and  hear  an  Icelandic  sermon.  Accompanied  
 by  Jacob  and  my guide,  I  crossed  a  
 swamp which lay between us and the church;  
 but,  previously to entering it, we called  upon  
 an  old  lady,  a  rich farmer,  who  lives  in  the  
 immediate  vicinity,  and whose hospitality  is  
 celebrated  by  Sir  John  Stanley.  She  was  
 eighty-five  years  of  age,  and  still  enjoyed  
 good  health, though  her  faculties  were much  
 impaired, so  that she  scarcely recollected the  
 visit  of  my  countryman.  A  young  man,  
 however, whom  she had adopted  as  her  son,  
 remembered  him  well.  Her  house,  at  this  
 time,  scarcely  deserves  the  praises  which  
 Sir John  has  given  it;  for  it was  as  dirty  as  
 any  I  had yet  Entered,  and  the  closeness  of  
 the  bed-room,  into  which  we  were ushered,  
 was far from pleasant, and, I  should suppose,  
 equally  far  from  wholesome.  Yet  in  these  
 confined  rooms,  where  the  external  air  is  
 scarcely  admitted,  do  the  natives  spend  
 their  time  during  the  long  winters,  except,  
 indeed,  such  of it as  is  necessarily employed  
 in  looking  after  their  cattle;  and  here,  too,  
 by excluding the air,  and  by  means  of thick  
 walls  and  a  roof  of  turf,  they  are  enabled  
 to  live  without  a  fire  in  their  sitting-room 
 throughout  the  year.  1  heard  the  riches  of  
 the  inhabitants  of  Hankardal  much  talked  
 of:  they  consisted  of  ten  cows,  five  rams,  
 and  about an  hundred sheep;  a  property  far  
 from  contemptible  in  this  island,  though  
 scarcely  more  than  equal  to  what  Horace  
 called  upon  his  luxurious  patron  to otter  at  
 a  single  sacrifice  on  the  safe  return  of  
 Augustus, when,  promising to  sacrifice a  call  
 for  himself,  he  says  to  Mseceneas,  “  l e   
 decern tauri totidemque vaccae”. An Icelandic  
 church-yard  is  often  in  part  enclosed  by  a  
 rude  wall  of  stone  or  turf,^ and  the  area,  
 excepting  only  as  much  as  is  occupied  by  
 the  building,  is  thinly  sprinkled  over  with  
 elevated  banks  of  the  green  sod,  which,  
 alone,  serve  to mark  the  burial  places of  the  
 natives,  for  whom  no unlettered poet  writes,  
 or  more  unlettered  sculptor  carves,  their  
 names  and  years  upon  the  monumental  
 stone.  This  spot,  previously  to  the  arrival  
 of  the minister, on  a  sabbath,  affords  a most  
 interesting  spectacle.  Numerous  parties  of  
 men,  women,  and  children,  who  had  come  
 on  horseback,  and  in  their  best  apparel,  
 were  continually  saluting  each  other;  and  
 any  person,  that  had  been  absent from the