Yet, oft I spake of days to come, with all their wealth of bliss,
Then she hath said, "I soon shall find a purer realm than this;
Again I talked of future hours, of roaming through the fields,
To gaily scent the fragrance of each flower the summer yields;
I could but sigh to mark her look, so sad, yet so resigned,
More eloquent than words could speak, the feelings of her mind.

Now summer with her rosy smile, like beauty's dream, is past,
And leafless forests bend beneath the angry winter blast;
And she, like a sweet flower, is gone, who grace around her shed,
Her seraph form is perishing among the silent dead;

But as death came with restless step, a cherub smiling nigh,
Caught her pure soul, and with it winged unto its native sky.

Yes, she is gone! and ne'er on earth her like again we 'll see,
So fair in form, so pure in mind, from art and guile so free;
She seemed not as a habitant of this fast fleeting sphere,
But as an angel clay-concealed, awhile sojourning here,
To be to all who looked upon her bright and placid face,
A pattern of excelling worth, of loveliness, and grace.

This sad bereavement on her house hangs like the midnight gloom,
And long, long years will fleet away ere we forget her doom;
And there is one, a lovely one, whose heart more deeply feels
The anguish of a sister's loss, than her fair face reveals;
But let her thoughts to Heaven ascend, where only is relief,
A comfort for the mourner's heart, a balm for every grief.

L.

THE RAISING OF LAZARUS.

MEEKLY he sunk into the arms of death;

And days and nights had seen his last, deep sleep,
And they who loved him, with a breaking heart,

Had laid the lifeless form in its low grave;

And felt that nature in her smiles is dark,

And earth, with all its joys, is comfortless,

To those who mourn the dead. And there was One,
In human form, the Lord of life, who took,

That man might be redeemed from the grave's power,
The weakness and the sorrows of our nature.
And he, in friendship's pure devotedness,
Was bound to him who rested in that tomb;
And, in the tenderness of mortal grief,

Was come to that low cave, and stood and wept.-
The angels, bending from their bright abode,
Wondered at that strange love.

The Saviour stood,

And at his side were seen the grief-bowed forms
Of those who wept in the deep, silent woe

Of woman's heart, when woman's heart is broken.
And many, witnessing that wordless grief,
Wondered that love so tender and so strong,
Love which had given light to sightless eyes,
Could not have stayed the wasting of disease,
And saved the gentle victim from the grave.
"Take ye away the stone," the Saviour said.
At his command, they took away the stone
From the dark chamber where the dead was laid,
And watched in their deep silence. All was hushed!
And Jesus raised his eyes to the pure heaven,
His home of glory ere the worlds were made,
And, strong in faith unwavering, held, as man,
Sublime communion with the Source of Being.
Then he, the Resurrection and the Life,

Spake to the lifeless clay; "Lazarus, come forth!"
Death heard that mighty voice! The dead came forth
A living man.

MARY.

CRITICAL NOTICES.

Journal of a Third Voyage for the Discovery of a North West Passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific; Performed in the years 1824-25, in his Majesty's Ships Hecla and Fury, under the Orders of Captain WILLIAM E. PARRY, R. N., F. R. S., and Commander of the Expedition. Illustrated by a Map. Published by Authority of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty Philadelphia. H. C. Carey and I. Lea. 1826. 8vo. pp. 232.

THIS work has been some time before the public, but does not seem to have attracted the attention which might have been expected. It is true that the voyage terminated, as we anticipated, unsuccessfully;* but Captain Parry can harldy do any thing or publish any work, which shall not be deserving of great consideration. His accounts of his three voyages are as delightful to our recollection, as those of Robinson Crusoe and Sinbad the Sailor ;-they have the same charms of novelty, and of exhibiting the resources by which human reason enables its possessor to triumph over adverse circumstances; and above all, they have the charm which can never fail the charm of truth. The world, indeed, is disappointed, because the great expectations raised by his first expedition have not been realized, but, on the contrary, hope seems by the result of the last voyage to be exhausted; still no single fact can be added to the sum of human knowledge which may not produce eventual good. Truth-even the abstractest truthis, in itself and of its own nature, good, and, like producing its kind, the consequence of its discovery must be good. At some future day, we know not how many ages hence, the future generations of mankind may be benefited by some new art or some improvement in one already known, arising out of facts which Parry has discovered. Already good has resulted. The variation of the compass, so much beyond all known before, noticed in his first voyage, has led to the invention of an instrument by which local attraction is completely destroyed. Captain Parry in his last voyage has proved the efficacy of this invention, and he says, "Never had an invention a more complete and satisfactory triumph; for to the last moment of our operations at sea, did the compass indicate the true magnetic direction." Nor is this all; it is ascertained that the human body can, with proper precautions, endure without injury the greatest degree of cold which can perhaps

* See The United States Literary Gazette," vol. I, p. 97, where this result is anticipated, and the reasons given at large.

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58

exist on earth; and says Captain Parry, "Exposure to a cold atmosphere, when the body is well clothed, produces no bad effect whatever beyond a frostbitten cheek, nose, or finger. As for any injury to healthy lungs from the breathing of cold air, or from sudden changes from this into a warm atmosphere, or vice versâ, it may with much confidence be asserted, that, with due attention to external clothing, there is nothing in this respect to be apprehended. This inference, at least, would appear legitimate from the fact that our crews, consisting of one hundred and seventy-four persons, have for four winters been constantly undergoing, for months together, a change of from 80 to 100 degrees of temperature, in the space of time required for opening two doors (perhaps less than half a minute), without incurring any pulmonary complaints at all." The crew all returned in safety save one, who perished by an accidental fall. Captain Parry on this voyage, pursued very nearly the course which he had gone over in his first voyage, and penetrated a very short distance further into Prince Regent's Inlet than he did at that time. He was stopped, as we feared he would be, by the ice, which, for aught that appears, is there both summer and winter; and if not permanent, at least in such quantities, even in the most favorable seasons, as to render the navigation exceedingly perilous. We say he was stopped by the ice; true he was not absolutely blocked up by it, but it occasioned the loss of the Fury, and with one ship he could not persevere. He was kept close in his winter quarters until the 20th of July, and the ice again and again closed up their passage, filling the whole strait, until the loss of the Fury compelled him to abandon of the enterprise. "The deep sea friezeth not ;"McKenzie and Hearne have seen a clear sea from the North Coast of America, and Captain Franklin has sailed upon it. The difficulty is to reach it, through the Archipelago lying between it and the Atlantic. Captain Parry still feels confident of eventual success, and success through this Inlet. From so competent a judge it would not become any one publicly to dissent.

It cannot be expected that we should give an abridgment of this voyage; it was almost exactly similar to those preceding it, and Captain Parry very properly has avoided a repetition of details so much alike. One or two striking facts which he has recorded, we shall quote in his own clear language.

"The extreme facility with which sounds are heard at a considerable distance, in severely cold weather, has often been a subject of remark; but a circumstance occurred at Port Bowen, which deserves to be noticed as affording a sort of measure of this facili

ty, or at least conveying to others some definite idea of the fact. Lieutenant Foster having occasion to send a man from the observatory to the opposite shore of the harbor, a measured distance of 6696 feet, or about one statute mile and two-tenths, in order to fix a meridian mark, had placed a second person half-way between, to repeat his directions; but he found on trial that this precaution was unnecessary, as he could without difficulty keep up a conversation with the man at the distant station. The thermometer was at this time-18°, the barometer 30.14 inches, and the weather nearly calm, and quite clear and serene.

"About midnight on the 27th of January, this phenomenon [the Aurora Borealis] broke out in a single compact mass of brilliant yellow light, situated about a S. E. bearing, and appearing only a short distance above the land. This mass of light, notwithstanding its general continuity, sometimes appeared to be evidently composed of numerous pencils of rays, compressed, as it were, laterally into one, its limits both to the right and left being well defined and nearly vertical. The light, though very bright at all times, varied almost constantly in intensity, and this had the appearance (not an uncommon one in the Aurora) of being produced by one volume of light overlaying another, just as we see the darkness and density of smoke increased by cloud rolling over cloud. While Lieutenants Sherer and Ross, and myself, were admiring the extreme beauty of this phenomenon from the observatory, we all simultaneously uttered an exclamation of surprise at seeing a bright ray of the Aurora shoot suddenly downward from the general mass of light, and between us and the land, which was there distant only three thousand yards. Had I witnessed this phenomenon by myself, I should have been disposed to receive with caution the evidence even of my own senses, as to this last fact; but the appearance conveying precisely the same idea to three individuals at once, all intently engaged in looking towards the spot, I have no doubt that the ray of light actually passed within that distance of us."

The modesty and piety of this distinguished voyager must have struck all who have read his several volumes; and perhaps no author ever made his readers feel more familiarly acquainted with him or more anxious for his success;-a new volume from his pen, is like a letter from an old friend. We hope he will speedily and happily return from his new expedition, and delight us with a recital of his adventures.