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

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 Ine 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 no4se 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 shade and wave and 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 the lighted 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 His rothehdisb 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 atemmisne 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
aitinte 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-boat " 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 lakes, 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 comparison
with other periods, 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. They who have had
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 dissatisfied 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.