The Express. — London, England, 1851-01-11 00:00:00

LITERATURE. Payrimoyes to Peseta' Sibritua. Br Kn. B. C. But woo ?e.g., and litssintoes by F. W. Panel', P.E.A. London : Arthur Rah, Tars., sad Co. A volume of hero worship. And why not? The Romanists have their moving picture at Rimini, and their holy shirt at Troves; why, thee, should not Dotthora protestant' be allowed to enjoy a pilgrimage ts Stafford-on-Avon or to Chalgrove-field ? At least the admirer at the shrine of a poet has one merit not theirs who worship past.bosrd virgins decked out in tinsel and beusttered with grease. He asks no interces-ion for mischief's done or pece-.dillcoo contemplated, but goes to a spot hallowed by the' memory of a great mon with the tree reverence of a discip4, offering homage to one of the great meoters of human thought—ous of the great inheritors of that strange light of genius which seems to come direct atom the divinity to moms chosen inn, that he may charm or improve or command the world. There is little e:ltiahness in admiring Milton, or in honouring Himpdan, or in looking with kindly reverence upon the spot where Banyan, the prince of dreamers, lies buried. Can we say as mean for those who go on their knees before tin canvas virgin who miraculously moves her eyes, or who prostrate their faces on the atone flcor of the church which makes a hoedewne iwome out of a wooden saint that sheds reel blood ? Mrs. Hall, in this volume, sketches eighteen OI- L/images to spots made cerebrated by the names con nected with them; and the readers who either follow her in type, or imitats her example by going over the ground fur themselves, will be led through a pleasant succession of English scenes in town arid in country, made additionally plumed by the li'.nry halo thrown over the spots searchel out. Trip the first is to flat-mesdosed Bedfordshire, with its county town, famous fue two things—its churches and John Bunyan. At Elatuw, the cottage is still shown in which the inspired tinker, tippler, ruintly dreamer, and voluminous writer was been. Close by is a building known as the Green-house, now need as a village school ; "its missive timbers, its low-poisted doorway and antique character (says our lady-guide), prove that it is far older than the days of Bunyan ; rt might have been one of the barns, or milk-boom P, or scalier, in which the good old Bedford puritan wept and prayed." He speaks to his spiritual children, in his " Grace Abouodu•g" (only one, be it' remembered, of his sixty volumes of religious bolls), about the clew, the milk-house, the stable, the bun, "where God did visit their souls;" and Mrs. Hall, with the true soul of an enthnsiut in search for identical., calls attention to the house on Rioter green u oertsioly contemporary with Bunyan, and possibly one of the very spots in which conversions such as his own were made. She thus describes her VISIT TO RUNYANS COTTLGZ. Although the shadows of evening were drawing is more elowly, the women were etW plying their busy bohlau over heir lea cu , hions, iv tits y oats at the , " cottage doom; the miller, is as rumbling arid as richer qee it, a village tea be, that has no beek•ground ; although the cottages most ban been nearly all nbe , it sine Bilayan's time, some are even now as old as to need repair to prevent their fa/ling to decay; thus the anociaolote between put and present are arocisoiagly close, and contribute much to the actual feeling that this is really the Deity of Bonne's time. We must passe at the threshold of his nun', for though so vestige renaming of the angel lulls that bead his infant yea. wnee he entered tiro this world of strife and tumult, ~ t the site and matorials c e undoeslated'y the tans ; for no bo.;der of median cottages world have bestowed suck Lewin beams on ouch a structure. A it rJup of women reuse 'rum their lace pillows that we might eater the one o dwellirg of him who, according to an old chrookle, wit ore of te. men "that in thews time were enabkd of God to adventure fame in eh,* ing their detestation. of thatishops and theft mpentitions ;" he was bore wedge • taw feet of where we stood, in 1628; the dates be has immor talised mewed to our memory one by one. 11. Depot t preach 'host the year 106, was ordemed stator 21st of Op totter, IGil,aad 're oa the 31st of August, ICA& West • marvellous chart In the circumstances of the ticker's child, whostriresl , 3l into 'testatee temisath se humble a roof, and the terininati4m of his life,Mbo triumphed over most tett.r petmeutions, rod bequeathed to the world, for all time, monument each es the " Prostate." The essay raced rpm the ruins of that which hi walked it of the pis,rest discripth is, with the empties of the beam, which, in their thicken" and thelowtmos of the melees, reminded as oldie cottage at Cos! oat. whom Wilton 'lmitated duress t h e plater; it te is notkirg remediable, 'leapt, poetspa, being more sumpadated tea many of tho seighboartag cottages. -- • • - - - Besides Bunyan's birth-place, we have sketch, verbal and pictorial, of 'otiose ot her 's er Mica, including his house it Bedford, his disk, his cabinet, and his jug—for honest Juba, se everybody knows, was a hearty drink. r in his younger days, at least before their honours, the kieg's justices, became so fond of locking him up in jail for preaching against bishops. There is a suggestim, too, about Howard, who was • Redford man also, and many bin., and much gossip to guide future visitors to the place, cr to amuse those who may choose to travel only through the lug , id the book. Trip the *mad takes am to a holier spat Ullllll that haeociated wnh the aathotahip W "Pilgtha's Prc • firer"—to burial-place of John Hampden —amass the green fickle tad lanes a datk;aAhastehme. ♦ TILSIT TO 111PD[N. Lily le the Mon .ai selfaiag we 1,4 t 'As pasty v"lese of Aldbuy ear brtiod. parsed ON telba of Trine, and drove tloesthth s rt.s Mao's.* et old tint", unearned ti Otrir qetint tmes, Astra enrage," sad Weston- Trrtilo " waif* the cot , sise ars sasdrd by cools tr ter wp,l.ke toy hoes-s, out of boons. is of moulltly rows sad Ito:Jorkr, and sJ,lsraar. tof ekmv.. We wrosily • td to spend an hour is the loaut , 'ut church of Kla bk, _ . . . which amerly helooved to the ilismp lens; for those vii- lege elauches ate .ell of lateral; trr.--ea and timeaoto t,mahe area be 'net with in Pak unetuaries; an old motion abase a attend 11. g, or mime hallowed name 'leaping a blue slaw volt imusortailey; and Nimble tempted es, look ice so toll at conscious glory, spat its steep, above the twe.top ; but we had • le im day's work before as at Ureat Hampden. We pared " The Chequers" is Meek self denial—for the present; and With we admired the Sated wends and uprisings of the Chiltern Hills, we became grievously perplexed by the net-wok of has end drives that, as we gat duper iaty the covoily,erem and neer% end .rem to diverge everywhere, and in ell d'reettoni; the crows evideetly considering their right to the shorn here. es held indisputable. O,•t di.ver was in happy free lance el Hampien, eltbe ine ratios or the house, pot aflirmed it wee " antewtere hereabout;' and but goy a pretty clunfel girl, a miracle*, letellieence, at a place we believe celled " Stockwell Vann," wt might have wandered vainly anima the Lille, and velem, and pubs, until the day w. dune. We had not heard that the tine old r. 1 brick Eiwtsbethen twee or the Hampden% had been stuccoed :vs I wt. itenees. and we pried it s.thout recognition; for to e'tureh, which we keew slaa't joined the dwelling, is coneeakd by trees. We drove es, however, to what en holiest looking faith, who wielded his iroa rs lightly es it it were a guerterstat, told us was the "Patria'a " village, and that the clerk of the church raided there. Hampden village consists of an irregular line tal very primitive cotsages,•ingothog along one aide of • smell coma,., from which their gasdens have lawn taken bit by hit: it is backed by raw' aid well wooded grousd. die old and ragged tree, mealy opposite the lea that eepantes the road from the , imetion, attracted ewe Manta* and a peasant, whose appearance bespoke little of what we term " comfort," mated much estontehed at oar visit to "so pour a place." Us shook tie Lead gravely, and told as The people deed aid gone said that tree stood there in the • Patriot's' time, but the clerk of the church knew it ail; he (meld tell el about the ' Patriot,' and everything he would r'l him is a 'Wised* ; when gentry did come to seer so poor a plus, they ought to knew everything." The clerk soon reine—s tall, thin man, who stooped rather, and looked perhaps older then his pen.. lila calm intel igent face lit up, when Hampden'a masa was mentioned, and he knew the intere of oar errant , . " Ay." he said, "that tree had beard the blast of Ilampdan's trumpet, sure enough:" No doubt it wt* there, under the' woody brows of ho own C Ahern', he first iistad the , on. mud to gather the rrilit a of his own country, which 1144,1 sag before, caught the spirit of its great leader. We iota. reed the psi ;ghee and hundreds with their preachers at their bads, sanskalir g op • defile to the right, to meet him who had so bravely Muscled is their liberty. " Not only the tree," resumed the worthy clerk," bat the college In white I live, woastaaJtag then ; sad he invited ro t r look at the beams, " they were as flask." When we entered, he proud upon as peers and plows, the fruit of hie garden; and hie write selected the largest from her store, and took no Wee pnde in the thickset* of the low oak bfame. She regarded as with respect when she found we had come from L olden twits and has all about "The Patriot," which no one, she assured se ' scold tell better than her husband ; " we must have Brest curiosity." She had heard that Ting wee twelve miles aft she had lived in this cottage forty pan, bat had none ban so far. She conflated, s.th a quiet sopa, "she wee no great traveller." This Dorms had anilines beneath her white belt, and wan withal kindly, courteoce, sad Intel. ilent, with abundant health, mid was well learned in simple 'Wen and house mit, and, better still, in that lore which reader, WIN unto seivation : yet, from the time of her youth, ohs had suer been twelve mil s from that most km!, and primitive village in which she was bora. John Hampden's hotels forms, of course, the subject of a sketch in the geoid spit it of the lady ~.,ter. JOIN ■AIPDII'S 'LOUSE. Lasting the common, and pr—iug grin through the It , • to lanes, and by the forgo, wa come to lb. gets o PertrS t.• A minding chive that heads through the pork to tae on lance of both choral and thralling*Strludatit War bi • tattoo rood, over•archad by statsly Mrs sad Want& ra saugrsoss: oa tbs I=4l isrdsa Os ad mite, by a bagit path, to the home, flower garden, and where the papist opera his happiest days; ea the left is the *stelae* to the served &arch, where his remiss ropcia. It is very rarely that thus, withio, is it were, the compels of a ring, a great man's first end last are ptkend together. It is imponible to imagine anything more still than this hal lowed spot, hid away et the beck of that chalky range, the Chiles:es, which booed on one side the rich vele of Ayles hey. The flower garden, through which we pawed, seemed es if called late eAstence by the wand of an, enchanter; the limeeing IOW", the heavy•licaded dahlias, the tinght. toned autumn downs, joshed so lonely in their beauty. We almost feared to speak is suck deep eolitnde. A human footstep, the lurk of a doe, the song of • bird, the tinkle of a steep bell, would have been a relief—until we bad drunk deeply of the spirit of the place, and then, es thooghte and memories crowded around us, we felt the luxury of it' edema quiet', and that sound here would be as sacrilege. Poising a low sort of postern entrance we walked beneath an arch, starred over by jasmine, and stood in front of the extensive mansion, added to and enlarged by venous proprietors, end at one use displaying some goodly architectare of the age of Elisabeth ; tee stucco, ea if sahenicd of its usurpation, ..zgineing to drop away from the red brick, of which the house is built. Save the "natural decay" which suet progress in all uninhabited dwellings, we saw nothing that told of the " ruin " which comes of carelessness or Reelect. The bail Is of that gloomy character, once considered ne estuary for grandeur of effect; the suite of roosne consist of a library, two dining-rooms, a drawing room, a son of small presence chamber, at.d a bed room, that enjoys the reputation of havieg been (scattily furnished for Elizabeth by Griffith Hampden, when her gracious Mejatv visited this favoured spot; the gallant high sheriff paid his Queen right royal homage, minima a paaeaee through the woods, which is still called " the Queen's gap." The furniture, however, of her Majesty's bed room, has lathing about it of the Elia anthem era; it is molder than the time of the second Charles. In the .ibrary is a curious bible, once the property of Philip, uncle of Oliver Cromwell; it contains detailed entries of the births of many of the Cromwell family. There is a very celebrated portrait of the Protector on the stair-case, and another of one of the family of Hampden,— we believe the " Pattfot's " ton—who, wearied of the word he knew, rushed unbidden to that which he knew not. All memory of the sleeping-chamber of John Hampden is lost ; but that of the tragedy is well known ;—what house is there without its skeleton l—yet what dwelling in England more sacred than this lonely one to the besets of Egg- Hamm ? Is me of them retention roosts is the interwiag portrait, believed to be of the patriot; it hung unnoticed on the stairs, until Lord Nugent usdertock to exhume the remains of Hampden, with a view to ascertain whether he had died by the effect of the bursting of his own pistol, or from the shot of the cashing, which, according to other histeriane, shattered the shoulder of the biro on Chid grove hell'. The body, of which the grave was despoiled in a ruder manner and for a longer period than appears to have been at • 1 1 necessary, was Sound perfret, except that a shattered hand was rolled in a separate cerement be side it : the featurts, when discovered, "bore so strong a resemblance to this hitherto negketed portrait, that it wee token down and cleaned, and in a earner the name wen die. covered ;" it has since been plead la a worthier position. It is deplorable that this noble mansion, hoosured by time and circumstances, contains no other record et t t ee one who has given it immortality; no papers, no documents, no scrap of hi• handwriting, no table upon which his hand rested, no chair, as the master of a household °hes has, sp. intimately eelled " his own;—no room—nothing eatept a doubtful portrait; the very character of that dwelling changed, rendering it a whited sepulchre rather than a glo rious mausoleum where everything concreted with him should be found ; and where the youth of England might learn bow to live and how to die for their country. These specimens from Mrs. Hall's volume will give a more truthful idea of its tone and character than any description might do, and with them we must close the subject, having space only to say, in conclusion, that as she writes of Bunyan, the author, and Hampden, the patriot, ao also does she visit, and sketch, and moralise, and pcetiae, and write amusingly about Sir Thomas Gresham, the merchant prince, and Thomas (kay, the careful poet; John Stow, the chronicler, and William Caxton, the first English printer ; An drew Muvell, the poet and patriot, and William He witt!), the painter and satirise. Many, if not all the papers, have been published in another form ; but bound op together, now, they form an elegant volume fur the table or the hook-shelf, and will, be yond doubt, promote, both in fact as well so imagina tion, many a plessant summer pilgrimage to many a worthy English shrine. Verge of the Prince Albert in search of Sir John Frank' ha; a Narrative o/ Every day Life in the Arctic Neat. B d W. PARILZI 8110 W. Lampasas, 1851. On the 26th of July 1848, sixty-eight days attar their departure from England, the Erebus and Terror were seen mcortd to sn iceberg in the middle of Baffin's Bay. It was not until the 1 :ginning of 1848 that enything like anxiety for their fate wee tilt by those meat interested in their welfare- at home. The three years which Franklin had himself indicated as the maximum term of their absence had expired, and it was felt that something ought to be done to 'len ts/a what bad become of the miming navigators. Ooverument resolved to send out three expeditions, in separate tracks; end these, under the respective com mands of Captains Austin, Party, and Sir James Clark 1t0.,, shortly left England. In addition to these explorations, it was resolved by Lady Franklin M have the west coast of Regent's Inlet, to the bottom of the Gulf of Bcothis, together with the western side of Boothia, into Ross' Strait, thoroughly searched. It was believed, from Sir John's well known character, that in earnestly endeavouring to follow his instructions, he would, alter attaining the longitude of Cape Welker, diverge to the mouth and west, where he would be likely to meet insuperable impediments, be compelled to abandon his ships, and make his way as best he could t t Regent's Inlet, where be knew that a depot of provisions existed. For the search of this laud of Boothia, Lady Frsr kiln purchased the Prince Albert, a small vessel of 90 t ins, at Cewes, and sent her to Aberdeen, to be fitted for the: service in which she was to be em ployed. She was soon doubted and fortified; two exesllent boats, one of gotta pereha, the other of ma hogany, were attached to her ea well as • Mackintosh boat and • "(Fogey." Provisions for two years were placed on bleed, end thus equipped she was expected to convey a boat expedition to the starting point of the actual rerrch, in Boothia, and to be a depot on which the excursion parties might fall back. Of this neat little vessel Captain Charles Ccdriogton Forsyth volunteered to take the com mend, offerMg hie servir-s free of any remuneration. Mr. Snow, Ow writer of this work, occupied a posi tion, width, es he describes it, was not too well de fined. Re tells vs that he was not professedly a nautical men ; he was to take charge of the civil depart ment of the vessel, the superintending and issuing of stores, the core of ell the scientific instruments end the medicine chest, and even to act u surgeon to the crew. His highest office, however, wee to lead the second of ;the two exploring potties into which the ship's company was to be divided when the season arrived for travelling. The captain and ship having been provided, it was sow necessary to engage a ship's company. These consisted of the chief executive officer, or chief mate, • weather-beaten tar of 53'.; a second mate, boat swain, carpenter, steward, cook, and ten reamer, five of whom had long been semstomed to the ice, and all inured to a wild sea life. These having produced the necessary certificates, signed articles, and a paper drawn up against all future " growling ;" and lastly, received each man twenty-six weeks' double pay in advance, prepared to embark in the little ketch. On the evening before their departure, Lady Franklin paid them a visit, and talked with each man separately in the cabin, on the object of their voysge,a converse tion often reeelkd with tears as they were afterwards working in the ice. On the sth of June, at six o'clock in the evening, Commander Forsyth went on board, and as soon as the tide began to make, the Prince Albert moved from the buoy to the outer harbour of Aberdeen. In a few minutes the pilot had boarded the vessel, colours were hoist-d, the word was given, the hawsers passed, and the Victoty steam-tug took them in tow. As the verse moved, cheer upon cheer rang through the air from the hearty Aberdceners who - lined the shore. The next day they were off Holyhead, and might Icon be mid to be fairly at sea. To prepare himself as much as possible for the cli mate befote him, Mr. Snow tslls us he used to turn out at half-past six, and, warm, cold, wet, or dry, take an ablution in the natural element. He would then walk helf an hour on deck and examine the men whether any were sick, have breakfast at eight, at tend to the stores, write out accounts and journals, work up the ship's reckoning., write the ship's log, dine at nom, stroll en hour on deck, tea at six, read Punch till ten, take hot grog and turn in for the night. Very little candle was required, as there was vlilom more than an hont's darkness per diem during any part of the voyage, and for a great portion of the time it was light throughout the twenty-four hours Owing to the regultuay of their duty, rest, and diet, the men, instead of dwindling away in the cold, became more robust and florid. On Saturday evenings glass of grog was earl out, the fiddle brought on deck; a cheerful song was heard,. kid no set of fellows was happier than they. THE EXPRESS, SATURDAY EVENING, JANUARY 11, 1851. On the 3rd of June, ninety miles from Cape Farewell, they saw the first iceberg, and on the 3rd of July rounded the extreme point of South Greenland. Six days afterwards they suddenly encountered the ice, not only is 111WAII or bergs, but in creams and , drifts. The wind wu blowing dead on the stream, and a sea was rising to keep it under their lee; no time was to be lost, in • few minutes the Prince I Altart entered the intricate channel/1i presented by the floating ice for the purpose of running through the stream. It was perilous work; all hands were on deck, erupted in their oil-skin dresses and water proof overcoats; the second mate was on the topsail, the captain clung half-way up the weather rigging, watching and directing the vessel, and the chief mate stood all directing the helmsman how to steer. An boar's dodging brought them through the ice which beset the vessel's proper course into clear water. In this region, far from laud, the crew were accustomed to go over to some melting iceberg to get supplies of water from the streams which trickled down it. This service was neither safe nor pleasant, as the bergs crack and "explode," projecting their fragments with con , siderable force. Mr. Snow thus describes this phenomenon as he witnessed it not far from Uper navick. FALL OF AN ICIIBIIO. I was dreaming then ; but I sou speedily awakened to reelity by a sudden noise, like the cracking of some mighty edifice of stone, or the bursting of several pieces of ordnance. Ere the pound had vibrated on the air, a succession of re ports like the continued discharge of musketry, in terstersed with the occasional roar of ear:non, followed quickly upon one soother for the sparks of perhaps two minwes ; when suddenly my eye waearrested by the Quill& ilea of a moderate-sized iceberg, not far beneath my feet,' in a line away from the hill I was upon, and the next moment it tottered, aced with a sidelong inclination cut its way into the bosom of the In e upon which it bad before been re. dining. Roar upon roar pealed in ::hoes from the mountain heights on every side. The wild sea-bird arose with &Ater big wings and vapid flight to a quarter where its quiet would be less disturbed ; the heretofore pear, fal water presented the appearance of a troubled ocean atter a fierce gale of wind, and amid the varied sounds now heard human voices, from the boat cisme rising upon high, in honest &lethal, strangely striking on the ear, hailing to know "if I had seen the' turn,' and also whether I wanted them to join roe," bat an instant bad not pasted before the mighty roue of snow and ice, which had no suddenly overturned, again presented itself above the water. This time, however, it bare a dif ferent shape, the conical and rotten surface which had been uppermost when I first noticed it was gone, and a smooth, table like plane, from which streamed numerous cascades and lets "ream, was now visible. The former had sunk some hundred feet below, when the berg, reversing itself, had been overturned by its extreme upper weight, and thus brought the bottom of it high above the level of the sea. This description reminds us of the fall and roar of the avalanchesir the Alps, as seen and beard now and then by the tourist as he crosses the Wengern Alp. The Prince Albert was now fast approaching the " pack " or body of ice of interminable extent. The "crow's nest " was now set up, and as this is an, im portant and very neceeesry item In Arctic voyaging, t'.e author's description of it may be interesting. THE CHOWS NEST, This is a light cask, er any similar object, appointed for the look-out man aloft to shelter himself in, and is in large ships generally at the top mast head. In smaller vr-sels, however, it in necessary to have it as high up as pos,ible, in order to get from it a greater scope of view than could be attained lower town. Cau•quently, in the Prince Albert, it was does to the " fore•truck," that to, completely at the meet-head. In our use it was a long, narrow, but light cask, having :at the lower part of it a trap acting like a valve, whereby we could eater, end was open at the upper pert. In length it wee about four feet, so that a person on the lookout had no pert of hinsso If exposed to the weather but his head and shoulders. In its interior wee a small seat slung to the hinder part lof the cask. To reach the crow's. nest a rope ladder woe affixed to the bottom of it. This is a favourite place with many whaling captains, who are rarely out of it for days when among the ice. 1 was very frequently in it myself, feir weather or foul, from six to a dozen times a day, both for personal gratification and for the purpose of looking out. The fixtug the crow's nest, bringing out ice anchors, warps, and tracking-belts, were the preparations for a new and more active life on beard the vesseL As they slowly glided along through the ice, amidst dark, hazy, and rainy weather, with only just wind enough' to till the sails, it seemed as if they were approaching some great bat:h.-field, or passing through the out posts of a mighty encampment. It was the constant work of the watch on deck to keep the ship clear of the bergs and loose ice, in which gloomy occupation they cheered one another, often in the darkness of night, with the songs they learned at home. Wee through the loose ice, and fairly among the bergs, the difficulties of navigation were lessened. Here the crew saw the polar bear watching the seal hole from behind a piece of ice, darting forward as the ac ,l arose, arid carrying it to his retreat. The work of tracking now commenced, and all bands were ordered on the ice. Those who have seen a canal-boat dragged by hand may form an ides of this oper►tion. A track-rope from the foremast is I carried to the ice, where a dozen lusty fellows seize it and pull the ship on at the rate of about two miles an hour. The song, or rather chant, is kept up for the sake of giving the time to the exertions of the workers, and sometime, the captain or another officer composes a special ditty, with a chorus, in which the qualities of the vessel are celebrated. ThM progress was often disturbed by the closing of the ice, which " beset" the vessel for a time, until iu the general motion an opening was made for her escape. Mr. Snow thus describe the position of the Prince Albert in Melville Bay on one of these occasions : TUB PUCE ALBERT " BREIT." Both our vessels were now as completelyln the see as if they had been dropped into it from on high, and frozen there, It bad been iropo - sible for me to sleep during the night, in consequence of the continual harsh, grating sound that the ...floes" caused, as they slowly end heavily moved along or upon the ship's side, meshing their outer 'clips with a coot unpleasaat no 4 se close te my ear. My sleeping berth wee half under and half above the level of the water when the ship wes on an even keel. In the morning I heard the grating sound still stranger end elms to me. I threw myself off the bed and went on deck. From the deck I jumped on to the and had a look how it was serving the poor little vessel Under her stern I perceived large masses crushed up in a [rightist manner, and with terrific force, sufficient, I thought, to have knocked her whole counter in; my only wonder was how she stood it. • • • Upon each side of the ship the floes were solid and of great thickness, and pressing closely upon her timbers; under the bow. several rough plice , hart been thrown up, nearly se high as the level of the bowsprit, sod these were in constant change as the larger mums drove by them. It wu this " constant change" that explains the safety of the vessel amid the incumbent muses of ice ; s tide, or current, was at work round the Prince Albert, removing the dangerous floes. There is not a more annoying obstruction than the sudden junction of two floes just ab the vessel is about to pass the strait between them. This happened to Captain Forsyth'. Teasel; bqw that bold sailor dealt with it will be perceived in the following passage : lesion Island, the Prince Albert separated from its companion, and the work of searching commenced. The island was traversed, bat only a grave discovered. From this point the party passed to Lancaster Sound, and then stood away for Port Leopold. Arrived there the shore was examined, and tidings of the " North Star" discovered, bat again no trace of Franklin. They next endeavoured to penetrate the strait between Port Leopold and Cape York, which leads to the western coast of Boothia, the ground which had been especially marked out for them as the scene of labour. Through heavy ice they succeeded in 'reaching Fury Beach. Ice was everywhere, a-head and on each side of the voyagers. From the crow's nest nothing was to be seen bat a dreary expsnee of " hammocks :" not a sign of an opening. The ice master doubted not so much whe ther the ice would break up that as if it would do so in any seism. All agreed that the next step was to get the ship from her unsafe position, and her head was turned round before the ice should close in upon her. The exploration of Boothia was thus aban doned, and it was resolved to examine Capes It:ley, Mecham, and Walker, and return to England. On their return they called at Port Leopold, and a party went on shore and inspected the store of provisions which lies there for Sir John Franklin. In this place they were nearly cut off from the ship by the closing of the harbour with ice, en occurrence which would have imprisoned them for at least one winter. While walking here they found a leaf of Punch, and the next moment the grave of a former voyager. With the examination of Cape Riley their work of exploration may be considered to have closed. The news they brought thence is already known. The vereet.l encountered only the usual incidents of Arctic voyage while homeward-bound, and arrived in Atm deen on the let of October last, without having once cast anchor since leaving the Orkneys on the 10th of the previous June. The cescriptions of the writer are assisted by some coloured plates, exhibiting the strange soenes through which the Prince Albert passed in her voyage of investigation ; acd Messrs. Longman will doubtless find many reedits for this their last new book. Those who read this volume must be content if they are interested by the narrative; they will be disap pointed if they look for elegance of style or any great purity of diction. Mr. Snow is an Arctic adventurer, and not a writer by profession, and he displays but little aptitude fir the craft of authorship. Still his volume is amusing The prevailing f-sling, after the perusal of this " Voyage of the Prince Albert," is one of disappointment that the expedition was able to effect so little, and of regret that when a ship was to sail on the course the Prince Albert went, she was not furnished with a boat and a crew under the command of an en ergetic officer, whose duties should have com menced at Cape Riley, where the traces of Franklin were found. In the last Blue-book on Arctic disco very there are some propositions made by an officer who had had great Arctic experience, Surgeon M'Cormick, who asked the Admiralty for a whale-boat and six tried men, with food for a few months, and who offered if these were supplied him, and swinge given the daring party to the edge of the Arctic barrier, to go in search of the lost Franklin; — sleighing (so to speak), boating, and walking, as opportunity aff,rded. In boats—and boats alone, — it seems likely that Franklin can be sought with a a likelihood of success. Ships are too liege to get through the barriers of frost, end too bulky to t 3 drawn over them. Frank lin's ships doubtless got into the grasp, as it were, of the Arctic ice, and found it impossible to get back again. The obstacles that keep him in will, it is feared, keep out ell expeditions sent in ships in search of him. The plan should be to take a vessel, to a point like Cape R ley, and, anchoring there, to send parties, such as Mr. M'Cormick proposes, across the snowy wastes in search—the ship meanwhile waiting to receive the wanderers or sailing to some other agreed point, where they might join it. By the Blue Book we just mentioned, it seems that a year ago the very point where the traces of Sir John Franklin were found was suggest-3 is a likely place for a best searching-party to start from. The sagacity which pointed out this now rerlised proba bility should be again resorted to by the authorities. Boating expeditions should be tried, and then we may hope for books as readable, but with a better result than that told us in this amusing story of the 'oyes' of the Prince Albert. Paste. By ELIZABETH BABBITT BROWSING. NOW BAHIA.. Chapman and Hall. It is only a few years since, that two little volumes of "Poems, by Elizabeth Barrett Barrett," placed their author at once in the first rank of modern poets. The number of readers might have been small, but their verdict was decisive. Since that time true poetry has taken a stronger hold upon the public. Thom whom the Byron fever had left bat convalescent, are now firmly re-established in health, with their hearts and heads all in right order. And in addition to these the new generation has asserted itself, and has uprisen without having been influenced by that formidable dis ease. The scornful and satanic school has very properly fretted itself to death ; it is no longer considered a fine thing " to bate your neighbour and to love your neighbour's wife ; " virtuous pirates and high-minded assassins are met only at the minor theatres; faith and reverence are no longer considered " slow ; " and neither poets nor their readers are ashamed to believe. Accordingly these " Poems by Elizabeth Barrett Brorning" (the association of two snob names is too suggestive to need explanation) appeal to a far wider circle, not only of readers, but of steadfast and sturdy admirers. The popularity of a poet is best tested by the number of his disciples and imitators; and of these Mrs. Browning has a numerous array. Being good-saturedly disposed just now, we will not allude to those in our own country ; but (having the Atlantic to divide us from dissentients) we may point to the American poet, Edgar Poe (whose early death is • lasting loss to all who knew his writings or himself), as one who formed himself, if not upon her system, at any rate upon her art. Let any one who doubts this, compare many portions of "The Ittven " with many portions of " Lady Geraldine's Courtship." But this by the way. Our immediate object is to give hearty welcome to the volumes before us—both for the sake of our old friends among their contents than which we can hope for nothing finer, and the new ones, which do not therefore disappoint ne. Mrs. Browning's highest quality is her deep devotional feeling. But it is not the chilling and selfish devotion of she cloister. She believes that He prayeth beat who loveth best All things both great and small, For the great God who loveth us, He made and loved them all. As for her art—her command of words and imagery —it is truly marvellous. " The Poet's Vow," is one of her loftiest theme,. We must content ourselves with a few extracts that will tell the tale : He did rot yew in far, or wrath, Or grief's fantastic whim; Bat, weights and shows of sensual things, Too closely crossing him, On his soul's eyi lid, the pressure slid, And made its vision dim. And darkening in the dark he strove Twist earth and sea and sky, To loss in shad e an d wave an d cloud, His brother's haunting cry. The winds were welcome as they swept : God's five-day work he would accept, But let the rest go by. Then he swears: " Hear me forswear man's sympathies, Hies pleasant yea and no— Hie riot on the piteous earth Whereon his thistles grow ; His changing love—with stars above I Hie pride—with graves below ! • " Hoar me forswear his roof by night, His bread and salt by day His talking' at th e li g ht e d hearth, His greetings by the way, His musing look., his maimed books, All Las, for aye and aye " That so my purged, asses human heart, From all the human rent, May gathered strength to pledge and drink Your wine of weediness*, While you pardon me, all Warningly, The woe mine Adana/a." daring Hi s rothe h d is b e, om he renouncer, dies of grief, ompliarree with her bet inatructieno4eirpiiii titilben twine poet in hts ' retirement. Ha heads ale duped in the attitude of I prayer, and on her bier is placed a scroll, on which she has written : THE WORDS OF ROSALIND'S SCROLL. " I left thee last, a child at heart, A woman scarce in years : I come to thee, a solemn corps*, Which neither feels nor fears. I have no breath to use in sighs ; They laid the death-weights on mine eyes, To seal them safe from tears. " Look oa me with thine own calm look— I meet it calm as thou! No look of thine can change this smile, Or break thy sinful vow. I tell thee that my poor seamed heart Is of thus. earth—thins earth,—a pat— h cannot love thee now. " But out, alas ! these word' are writ By a living, loving one, Adown whose &sake, the proofs of life, The warm, quick tears do run. Ab, let the unloving corpse matron' Thy scorn back from the loving soul, Whose place of rest is won. " I have prayed for thee with deep sobs, When passion's course was free I have prayed for thee with mute lips, In the anguish none could see! They whispered oft, ' She sleepeth soft But I only prayed for thee. " Go to ! I pray for thee no snore— The corpse's tongue is still: Its folded lingers point to h But point there stiff and chill: Nu farther wrong, no farther woe Hath license from the sin below Its tranquil heart to thrill. " I charge thee, by the living's prayer, And the dead's silentness, To wring from out thy soul a cry, Which O,d shall hear and bless! Lest H 's own pains droop in my hand, And pale among the saints I stand, A saint companionless." The poet's pride is broken, bat his life with it: For when they came at dawn of day To lilt the lady's corpse away, Her bier was holding twain. - - Of the other poems in these volumes, notwithstand ing the beauty of the later additions, we must still give the highest place to "the Lay of the Brown Rosary," with its mysticism of subjectand magnificence of diction; to the wild and marvellous " Rhyme of the Ditches% May," to the pathetic and intensely beautiful " R:maunt of Margret," and to some others in the former edition. Let us not, however, omit to mention " Catarina to Camoens," " Isobel's Child," and the "Vision of Poets," as containing some of the finest things in the volumes. The truth is, in the midst of so much beauty it seems almost a sin to par. ticularite, and to attempt to quote what is best is a still more embarrassing task. Across the Arardic. By the author of "Sketches of Ots ubo." George Kale. Encouraged by the favour which greeted his first literary effort, the author of the volume before us took a note-book with him when he sailed from Liverpool last June, bound for New York, and the memo he made on his way are here elaborated and printed. Without formally venturing into the poli tical questions which agitate the Americans, he has here and there evinced particular acuteness in dis secting the Yankee character. Some sentences in which ho alludes to the traveller's natural thoughts on his return from America, show hie bias. He says: " If, at any time, a man could be supposed to 1)_ tree from a certain feeling—to avoid circumlocution, let us call it enobishness, the name which it has lately gene by—if, at any time, a man could be supposed to ha free from snobishness, it would be, one would think, on his return from a country where the insti tutions which call forth that sentiment have been abandoned by the good sense of the people. And yet I do not think that experience will prove this to be the case. On the contrary, it is my opinion that the traveller, on coming back from America, will run the risk, at first, of being too ardent a snob. He sees, for the first time, certain advantages of general refine ment and good breeding arising from the establish ment of a privileged class, which advantages he would never have found out if he had not gone to a country where no such privileged class exists, and there marked the effect on the manners of the people at large." These sentiments indicate the political school to which the author is attached, and the same feelings undoubtedly heightens the cordiality with which he satiriz.s Brother Jonathan. One or two extracts will further show the quality of this clever writer : BARNUM APE, RIB 10782131. In the fine square in which we have arrived stands the eity hall, an elegant building, fronted with white marble. We have, however, seen enough of law and lawyers for some time to come, and will accordingly push on towards a building which attracts our attention at the end of the square. This is Barnum's Museum. The outside is completely plastered over with paintings of animals and birds. Tee paintings, being oval in shape, and stuck against the wall, resem , fie tablets. Above and below, and on all aides of thee gaudv.looking tablets, flags seem to grow out of the bricks. The flag staffs are about five feet 'tong, and the 'standards which flip at the end of them are of every age and country, In one of the balconies, a most detestable braes band is play ing load tunes, to invite the people within. Decidedly, Barnum's Museum is the most conspicuous building in New York. _ It mutt not, however, tie ;supposed that this enormous institution is nothing more than a gigantic 'how, or a tra velling caravan megniflid and made stationary. The position which it occupies in New York is entirely different; it being to all intents end purposes the best museum in the city—for aught I know, the only one. Indeed, I should not be sur prised if, amidst the rubbish which it contains, there be one or two articles to a certain extent curious and interesting. Bat the name which it bears is its greatest attraction. Barnum is not an ordinary showman. He is not one who w:11 be handed down to posterity only on the strength of the objects which he has exhibited, or the curiosities which he has brought to light. He stands alone. Adopting Mr. Emerson's idea, I should say that Barnum is a representative man. He represents the enterprise and energy of his coun trymen in the nineteenth century, as Washington repre sented their resistance to oppression in the century preceding. By "going a-head" to an extent hitherto unprecedented in his trade—devoid of any absurd delicacy as to the means by which the ends mein be accomplished—be has endeared him self to the middle and lower ranks of his countrymen, and seems to stand forth proud :and pre-eminent u their model of a speculator and a man. I firmly believe that there ere few commercial people in the United States who would not look upon Barnum as a congenial, though a superior, spirit; or, at all events, who do not feel a pride, albeit a secret one, in his exploits. The rise of this illustrious person, like that of some of his fellows, would seem to be veiled in obscurity. Whether he rose to fame on a fabulous riffle, or reached the wished-for goal on the back of an eight-legged horse, must remain matter of conjecture. His more recent exploits are well known. They are—Firstly. The discovery of an extraor dinary fish (if I remember aright). Secondly. The produc tion of a Quaker giant. Thirdly. Of a giantess to match, who married the gaunt. Fourthly. Of en old black woman, either a nurse or an attendant of some sort on General Washington, who related anecdotes of the patriot in infancy. Fifthly. Of Tom Thumb. Sixthly. Of Jenny Lind. Se venthly, Eigbtbly, and Ninthly. Of a giantess and giant boy; some Chinese gentlemen and ladies of high rank; and • negro who has discovered a processor turning his *kin from black to white, by means of a herb, which process he is cow undergoing. Independently of which, I have heard that Mr. Barnum btu • third share of some ghosts, who are now showing off their "mysterious tappings" to enthusiastic audiences. The interior of this great temple of jugglery is worth jail a few words. The vestibule or entrance-hall is a Madame Tusaawl's on a small smile, containing the trial of Cheat, the Siamese-twins, St. Paul iaearcereted (and flattening his nose against the bars of his oell), a family of drunken people, and other marvels, rudely executed in white tallowy-looking wax. Oa the first and second floors there are what may be termed picture galleries, the wells of the rooms being covered with daubs of eminent Americans, governors of states, signals of declarations, and so on. Higher up are the stuffed animals, which being unsuscoptible of imposture—a lion is a lice, and a tiger a tiger, all the world over—form the best part of the exhibition. Besides which, there are framed and hang up all about the place various objects of great curiosity ; for instance, an English deed of lease and release, executed in the eighteenth century ; an order admitting the bearer to view Bnekingbans-palsee ; plenty of twopenny prints of Bean, Dowten, and other aeon; and, if I recollect rightly, a framed and glared advertisement of somebody's Maeoessar oil. But &Madly the greatest curiosity, and that which attracts most attention, is the carriage of the late Qum Dowager Adelaide, with a wax madman on the box, and two footmen of the same material staadinq up behind, the whole of the three Mad is gorgeous state liveries. Besides the vast Lumber of rooms which contain all this rubbish, • Wan's, a ketare-room, and I do not know what else, are attached t, th,est,blishateat. The Mowing is an massing sketch of an American riverboat: ram nurtas mum" It Y not, indeed, aa inepeeting tke University of Cam that differs m each from its nauseate m a briag— rimet atemmisn e the mune of construction hem a womout old 011.1411111 h nor on kinking down upon the city fit& the immummut et Banker's-hills nor rambliog thrcugh the basiNg 'stub of Brooklyn ; no, nor even perhaps on a itinte the roam cnia—Skat the notion of his being in etwalry MO ha realised by tke travaller. The Idea da un ilmoawliam arrived it Pall River, he nee the steam-boa t " Empire State" ready to oos. Toy him to New York. " How so ?" I (may I hear some one say, "a steam-boat is after all but a steamboat." I allow the truth of this assertion, in reference to the water conveyances which ply between Liverpool and Glasgow, or Portsmouth and Itycle.l , But, to apply the term to the "Empire State" and thd" Bay State," can only be justifted on the ground that no other ', has been invented. The two great funnels rising up out of the middle, like the spires of a cathedral—the tiers of balco nies outside—the army of negro waiters, drawn up to receive you is you embark—the astounding coup-a'tril presented by , the various saloons, into each of which you might stow the saloons of half-a-dozen ocean steamers such as the Ilibprnia —all this, and a great deal besides, strikes you with the idea of a water village or a Sistine city, two names which I recommend to the direcion, as substitutes for the ridiculous misnomer "steamboat." Sapper, too, is invested with a degree of romance which I did not suppose could, by any possibility, attach to that meal. Stretching almost as far u the eye could reach were tables laden with every kind of meats and eatables in general. Gorgeous chandeliers reflected a brilliant Fight throughout the saloon, and were tastefully disposed. The long rows of bl irk waken, who stood in expectation of the company, clad in white gar mute, appeared to me—who had never seen so assay ebony races collected together, save at a sweep's dinner—to com municate an Oriental air to the serene. Here we bring our extracts to an end. We wish the author had allowed us to close his volume with that feeling of eatisfaction which we gathered from its early pages; but we are bound to protest against the flippancy in which he at times indulges at the ex pense of truth. Judging from the author's squib against the journalists, a careless reader might be led to regard them semen ready to barter their opinions— to edit the Satirist one day, and a high church ma gazine on the morro-v ; to praise bad plays on the condition that the compliment be returned when they themselves indulge in dramatic literature. In pas sages calculated to induce such errors we have speci mens of the grors injustice—perpetrated lightly, we are willing to believe, by one whose keen sense of the hnmourous leads him to overstep the rigid line of truth—one in short, who allows himself "to dravj upon his imagination for his facts." Having noticed this blemish, we recur with pleasure to those touches of keen and polished humour with which " Across the Atlantic " abounds; and commend the volume, in con clusion, to the lovers of light literature, with whom it will undoubtedly be popular. Hawses, is its Relations to Work and Knowkdoe. A Levers, delivered Wore the Chichester Literary S .ctety, by Joux Founts. 51. D , F.R S. Smith end E'der. The title of this work will convey an idea both of its extent and style. No man understands better than Dr. Forbes the kind of language in which every day people desire to receive the knowledge and expe rience of learned observers ; hence we have a hetes* full of strong thinking on human hte, yet free from the pedantry of the schools. The author takes no account of the modern refinement which distinguishes between happiness and pleasure, but regards the first as bearing to the second the relation of a whole to a part. In this sense Dr. Forbes sees happiness in the due exercise of tLe faculties with which man has been endowed by his creator." In illustration of this, the leading idea of his work, we subjoin a passage on THE PLEASURE Or EAILNE , r LAMA:IL Such of you se have followed mo in this brief review of our chief faculties, and have connected my rude delineation with your conscious experience of the o,perstion of your own minds, will be ready, I hope, to admit, lit, that much of the happiness which it has been your lot to enjoy, has been the result of that kind and degree of exercise of the facul ties which is usually termed week or occupation; and, 2nd, that the amount of happiness hee, eeterit paribus, been pro portioned, to the activi7 of the exercise (under due limits. Lion) and the number of the faculties so engaged. In such a retrospect of life, I think you will find, as a general rule, that thsse years or months have been the happiest, in which you have been most busy, and thole the unhappiest in whica you have been most idle. Of course, I here emfine my remarks, as in all other cases, to our ordi• !lan' fie elate, excluding from the comparison all those intercurrent seasons of high temporary enjoyment or deep sorrow, flowing from incidental Causes, and powerfully affecting the emotional part of our mind, or the heart. I also mean real, not apparent work. It is not when the hands are busiest, when the pen goes fastest, or the eye appease most intent on its object, that the mind is most en , gaged: on the contrary, it is often in periods of what Is called relaxation from business, in our holidays, that most wurk is done. When the boy escapes front his books, to ploy, as he terms it, iu his brief spare hours at school, or in nu Longer holidays at home, he, in reality, works harder, or, at least, with more energy and absorption of mind than when he was at his forced tasks. When the tradesmen, or shopkeeper, or clerk, or lawyer, or doctor, escapes, for a time from the daily, perhats dull, routine of his habitual busi ness, to take his holiday by the seaside, at the l a ke s , in Scotland, or on the Cuntineut, is net his mind more actively at work then it was before ? Do not, therefore, in estimating the relative happiness or unhappiness of different portions of your time, imagine that your experience is to contradiction to my view, because" you feel that your seasons of relaxation from business are to be marked with the whitest stone. If sou keep this fundamental qualification in view, I have no fear that your experience will contravene the validity of my proposition ; you will not, even, I think, t xolude from the category, of fortunate or happy times, many passages of your lite, which, while they were passing, you did not appreciate as having a claim to such a position. But hew often do we look back with a lingering regret for their loss, on particular scenes and events, and even on long periods of our Bess, which, at the time, were regarded by us with some discontent and dissatisfaction, but which, in the retrospect of all our past life, are now felt to have been, in c o mpar i son with other peri ods, or even with the whole, really periods of happiness? When this is the case, I think it will be found that such have been seasons of active labour and does men tal occupation. When, leaving our individual personl experience, we review our past knowledge of the life of other men, or examine, with a critical eye, the present lives of our ftiencia and acquaintance, I think we shall come to the conclusion that, speaking generally, and always excluding special cases, we have found those persona most happy who have been most occupied, and those least happy who have been mat idle, without reference to rank or station, to wealth or po verty, except in so far as these imply a more or lees cultivated mind, and lurnieb materials for mental occupation of a higher or lower kind. When the degree of mental cul tivation and of knowledge is the same, and the condition of the individual allows of exercise and occupation of a congenial kind, difference of social position, or worldly means, creates little or no difference in the amount of happiness; while difference of mental cultivation and mental exercise or cccu• patios, creates suormous difference. Th e y w h o h ave h a d opporuniiits of mixing with the different clause of society, they more especially who have had the means of looking into the interior of daily domestic life, must inevitably have come to this conclusion. How frequently have such observers had occasion to witness the co .trait between the happiness of the poor and lowly, end the unhappiness of the rich and great, waen it has chanced that the bonnet have had cultivated, well-regulated and occupied minds, while the latter have had none of these advantages, or bad them in an inferior degree! How often, also,.have the circumstances been found reversed—happiness being the familiar and daily guest of tne great and rich, while it was exiled from the home of the bumble man: and simply because, while the conditions of fortune remained as before the conditions of the inner life were here revt reed—the mode of life of the rich family being se rational and busy as that of the poor family was thoughtless and idle. It may seem invidious to single out any classes of men to contrast as examples of lives happy or unhappy; and indeed no clams exist that are at all exclusively so; still 1 think it would be easy for all of us who have bad long experience of life and some experience of the world to point to classes or bodies of individuals who are, generally speaking, MOM contented and happy, or more d issatisfied and discontented, that is to say, less happy Ulu their neighbours, and for the very causes we are dwelling on—viz., the possession or the want of sufficient mental exercise or occupatior. Out of the numerous illustrations of this tut which readily occur to the mind, I will content myself with two or three. We have all of us had occasion to contrast the life of the honest artisan who gains his daily bread by his daily work. with that of some one of his ownelass who may have chanced to come into the pose/aeon of a little property, just sufficient to enable him to live without labour. What a contrast have we sometimes observed between the busy, bustling, and happy workman, and the languid, listless, good-for nothing idler !—too happy, poor man, if he have escaped that worst of mi+eries, habitual intemperance, impelled, almost coin , pellet thereto by the impossibility of getting through the Wag day without it. • • DIARRIAGES IN HIGH LIFE.—On Wednesday, the Bth of January, were married by special licente, at the perish church of Ballymeacanlon, County Louth, the Hon. Augustus Frederick Joce:yn, brother of the Earl of Roden, late captain 6th Dragoon Guards, to Gram, second daughter of Sir John Macneill ; and on the same occasion, Edward Hue Croker, Esq., late Captain 6th Dragoon Goards, to Isabelle, eldest daughter of Sir John Macneill, of Mount-pleasant, Dundalk, and Rutland4quem, Dublin. The ceremony was performed by the Rev. Lord John Beresford, In presence of a large concourse of the nobility and gentry of the surrounding neighbourhood. THE PROTESTANT RIOT AT CHELTENHAM.—.The Rev. E. Glasscock, Roman catholic priest of the chapel In Cheltenham, has recovered 261. 19e. 3d. from the hundred or damage done to the chapel during the riot on Met ult. THE LIMERICK CuBTOME REVENUE for the quarter ended the bth January, inst., amounted to 87,8901, being decrease of 5,2121. compared with the earreepondiag quarter ' 1850. The reduction upon the near duties to smelly one , half, and the decreased consumptions. sebum by the midd,lo' tad labouring shame, chiedy account for the filling Win the local of Ws port. THE NEW THOROUGHFARE by way of Canaan street is being rapidly. proceeded what; the channitteir,‘• undentand, have determined that the house shall be 4:11 cleared away, and the aveet be pevellthmegh by Oho sewing May-day, which, it is to be expected, will stand in history in empathise to the " Evil May-day" of 1617, as the Good Mayday" or 1861.—Brikler. STRIKING TER ICS. Captain Forsyth determined to try and break through the impediment, by foreleg the ship on it under a press of manse. Accordingly all sail was set and the ship was steered direct for the narrowest and most broken part of the neck. Toe two mates were aloft in the crow's nest, to con the vessel. I was canding on the extreme point of her bow, and holding on by the fore stay, to direct her movement when immediately upon the ice, and Captain Forsyth was by the fide of the helmsman ; every man was at some particular station at .d ready to perform any thing that was instantly rep aired of him; and through an out the ship almost breathless anxiety prevailed, , for, it must be remember( d, it was not a large and powerful ship, but a small end comparatively fragile one that was now about to try, with her own strength, to break a piece of lee some feet thick, though not very broad. Oa either side of her were heavy floes and pieces ; and it required the greatest nicety in guiding her that she might in her 'strongest part, the bow, hit the precise spot where the neck was weakest, and not come upon any other part, where the could do nothing but severely injure herself. On she came, at the rate of full five miles per hour; &dog as she ad vanced inereased impetus until she rushed towards it with a speed of at least eight miles in the hour. The distance from the neck was about a mile, and the breeze blew steadily upon it. "Port! Starboard! So—o —steady !" was every now and then hailed out with stentorian lungs from aloft, and as energetically and promptly repeated by the captain below to the man at the wheel. Presently she came ewe to—she was almost upsn it—a mistaken hail from aloft would have pat her helm a-port, and sent her crashing upon the heavy floe. I heard the order "ak' and, before it had heen repeated, sh ou t e d lou dly •ith the men around me, who alio sow the mistake, "Starboard! starboard ! hard &starboard!" and the next instant, with • tremendous blow, that for the moment mad, her rebound and tremble, ski stack the ice in the exact point, and caused is to rend apart is 'operate fragments, which went dying about in eU directions. At Cape York the party landed and enjoyed the sport of Esqaimanz sleigitiag, leap-frog, racing, and otherwise amused themselves. _ . Pa-the 15th of August the Prince Albert was taken is to w by the *solute, which had .been previously met with, and entered that Woes watka ern Way before her. liming bean taken en far as Wol- I I R 2