If the Icelander in his native climate ever ſhould experience the impulſe of a painter's genius, the year itſelf would not ſupply many hours in which his fingers could obey its ſummons; and in the other extremity of climate, where every fibre is unſtrung by relaxation, all, who have experienced, know the inaptitude both of mind and body towards any action or employ of either; unfit alike for arts and arms, the emaſculate and ſoft inhabitant ſinks into ſloth and ſlumbers away a life, that ſcarce deſerves a better name than vegetation.