But these preliminary horrors, which announce to the seaman his
approach to the world of ice and suffering, so far from deterring,
increase his desire and determination to proceed. In the mystery of
the Pole, there is, I know not what, of sublime horror and heroic
suffering. Even those who have only gone as far North as Spitzbergen,
retain in memory a profound impression of its drear and horrible
sublimity. That mass of peaks, chains, and precipices, which, for four
thousand five hundred feet, rears its icy front, is like a gigantic
apparition, in that gloomy sea. Its glaciers flash forth living
lights, dazzling flashes of the most brilliant colors, green, blue,
and purple, contrasting marvellously with the uniform whiteness of the
snow. During the nights, whose duration is not of hours, but of
months, the _Aurora Borealis_, every now and then lights up the dreary
scene in the strange splendors of a sinister illumination; vast and
terrible bale fires, that, from time to time, light up the whole
horizon, forming, with their magnificent jets of lurid lights, a
fantastic Etna, that throws temporary and illusive light on that scene
of eternal winter.
All is prismatic in an atmosphere surcharged with icy particles, where
the air is full of mirrors and little crystals. Hence, the most
astonishing mirages, rendering one uncertain whether he may take the
evidence of his own eyes as to the reality of any thing that he thinks
he sees. Merely aërial reflections and colored mists appear solid
masses, castles, cathedrals, islands,--anything; and what you see
upright at one moment, is upside down a moment afterwards. The strata
of air which produce these effects, are in constant revolution, the
lightest ascends above the others, and in an instant the mirage
changes form, color, size, and character. The slightest variation of
the temperature, lowers, raises, or slopes, the huge mirror; the image
becomes confounded with the object; they separate, disperse, another
succeeds, and then a third, pale and feeble, appears, to disappear in
its turn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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