family of
man." Winter after winter, nature here assumes an aspect so much alike,
that cursory observation can scarcely detect a single feature of
variety. The winter of more temperate climates, and even in some of no
slight severity, is occasionally diversified by a thaw, which at once
gives variety and comparative cheerfulness to the prospect. But here,
when once the earth is covered, all is dreary, monotonous whiteness; not
merely for days or weeks, but for more than half a year together.
Whichever way the eye is turned, it meets a picture calculated to
impress upon the mind an idea of inanimate stillness, of that motionless
torpor with which our feelings have nothing congenial; of anything, in
short, but life. In the very silence there is a deadness with which a
human spectator appears _out of keeping_. The presence of man seems an
intrusion on the dreary solitude of this wintry desert, which even its
native animals have for a while forsaken.

I am persuaded, therefore, that I shall be excused in sparing the
dulness of another winter's diary, and confining myself exclusively to
those facts which appear to possess any scientific interest, to the few
incidents which _did_ diversify our confinement, and to such remarks as
may contribute to the health and comfort of any future sojourners in
these dreary regions.

It may well be supposed that, in this climate, the principal desideratum
which art is called upon to furnish for the promotion of health, is
warmth, as well in the external air as in the inhabited apartments.
Exposure to a cold atmosphere, _when the body is well clothed_, produces
no bad effect whatever beyond a frostbitten cheek, nose, or finger. As
for any injury to healthy lungs from the breathing of cold air, or from
sudden changes from this into a warm atmosphere, or _vice versa_, it may
with much confidence be asserted that, with due attention to external
clothing, there is nothing in this respect to be apprehended. This
inference, at least, would appear legitimate, from the fact that our
crews, consisting of one hundred and twenty persons, have for four
winters been constantly undergoing, for months together, a change of
from eighty to a hundred degrees of temperature, in the space of time
required for opening two doors (perhaps less than half a minute),
without incurring any pulmonary complaints at all.

In speaking of the external clothing sufficient for health in this
climate, it must be confessed