« VorigeDoorgaan »
THE ARCTIC EXPEDITION.
| tinctly, at which, according to the previously The following “ Observations on the missing understood intentions of Sir John Franklin, a ships of the Arctic Expedition, under Sir John deposit of records of his past proceedings might Franklin, with some propositions and considera- have been expected, as well as information as to tions for their relief and extrication from the ice, his condition at that moment, and his future plans! by an old officer of rank in the Royal Navy,” have The heads of Wellington Channel were, one or been published in London in a pamphlet form. We all of them, or Cape Walker, sure points where copy it, with the feeling that the remarks it con- to find the records of the missing ships. Had tains will be interesting, and perhaps useful, in Cape Walker, then, been visited by the searching this country.—Boston Daily Advertiser.
ships, or by a walking party from them, it is not
too much to say it would have been easy to trace The season of this year is over and gone; the Sir John Franklin's course. If a record were ships of search, have returned to our shores, but found, you would require no more ; if it were not, they bring not any tidings of Sir John Franklin it would still guide the search, and you would or his gallant men ! This is a disastrous event, know he had not been there, but had gone in some disappointing to all, but almost death to those other direction. So important a point is Cape whose affections are bound up in the fate of those Walker, under all these considerations, that it is devoted navigators. Five long years, at England's an indescribable misfortune that it was not examcommand, have these, her sons, braved unnatural ined ; and so wonderful and incomprehensible does hardships, privations, and dangers, for England's this misfortune appear, that my mind immediately fame, in a region where the deadly wind of a and strongly reverts to the idea of a hidden Provfrozen zone is cutting them in twain—where eter-idence in it. Is it, then, that Sir John Franklin nal ice surrounds them—where the earth yields no will make his way to one of the great rivers on sustenance for their famishing natures, and the the coast, and, ascending it, secure himself in the darkness of a world, unvisited by the sun, com- hunting ground, and at the fishing stations, until bines to subdue their energies, and to fill their the season of 1850 shall allow him to reach a minds and hearts with despair! What is there place of perfect safety and of European commuthat we would not be willing and anxious to do to nication? It may be so; or it may be something save them?
This is a great and grave question, better still. At all events, I would receive the involving a great moral obligation ; nay more, a untoward event as a blessing in disguise ; and inhigh religious duty. The nation is, indeed, will-vite all to join in prayer to Him who ordereth all ing to a man; and it has deposited its will, and things aright, to direct and govern our future exerits power, and its means, in appointing hands to tions—to crown them with success; or, to preperform its behests. It looks to those hands for a pare us for, and to sustain us under, the
pressure prompt, a judicious, and a successful employment of an adverse decree. In this spirit, our duty is of these. It will not esteem any outlay, or exer- very evident; it is, to use all the means in our tion, for this end, however great or extensive, a power, without stint, or grudge, or prejudice ; and sacrifice or waste. It does not look upon it as a so to use these as that one precious hour may not money question; it disregards petty considera- be lost. tions, and, under the dictates of common human- As to the plan of operation, if it may be called ity and natural feeling, cries aloud for search, so, there can be but one opinion—it must be extensive, effective, comprehensive search, till the thorough and extensive ; for if one point be left lost ones are rescued, or till their fate is ascer- unguarded, it may be that very one which would tained. The cry is upon England ; and England otherwise have insured success. It has been ardoes not stand alone in the world. The eyes of gued, indeed, that it is useless to try again from many nations are upon her; their sympathies are the eastward, and that “ that coast is well proaroused-their nerves are braced for the race ;- visioned.” And how much of it? But even had and, if she be remiss, they will win the prize, and the search in Barrows Straits been more extended, pluck the crown of glory from her brow! Where to stick down provisions here and there is not sufglory ends, shame begins. Let us look, then, ficient; there must be help also; there must be well to our managers, and ask, What have they ships and men to receive the wanderers, who are done-what are they doing-what will they yet very likely to be in the last stage of exhaustion. do? It is enough to assert that, hitherto, their Remember the “scrapings of the buffalo hides" arrangements have been most imperfect, and the at Fort Franklin, “which had previously been result a total failure, as is too well and most pub- scraped by the Esquimaux, and discarded by them licly known. At this moment we are in utter as unfit for food!” yet, like manna in the wilderignorance of Sir John Franklin's route after 12thness did these prove to our famishing countrymen ; July, 1845, and are as utterly lost as to his probable and had there been but one living Englishman at position! We know not even where he passed the fort to receive that exhausted party, and to his first winter-a fact to have been ascertained minister to their wants, they would have worin a single season! and it is yet a more singular shipped him as a god in their distress, and might feature in the case, which should be well noted, have been excused for doing so. Surely this exthat up to this moment no one point or place has perience should teach us to guard the eastern yet been examined, visited, or even looked at dis- route; for if Sir John Franklin went northwards
whaling grounds, and thus secure their return to England. It is considered needless to provide for their conduct, should they have fallen in with the missing ships in their track from the rivers to Melville Island.
The third part of the expedition would penetrate eastward and northward from Bhering's Straits; and this, too, would direct its course to Melville Island, guided by their judgment and their circumstances;-and if such a plan did not succeed in discovering the missing ships and party, hopeless indeed would be all further efforts to do
and did not succeed, he will return, if he lives, by the east; and if he penetrated west, and did not succeed, he will still return by the east. The true plan of search, then, is to make it from the east, from the west, and from the south. From the east three ships should penetrate towards Melville Island. One of these should be a store-ship only. She should carry out a full and large cargo of provisions and fuel, and materials for boatbuilding, together with a "Californian house." These should be landed on Melville Island, and then the store-ship might return. Melville Island would thus become a central and permanent depot so. That that party is safe whilst I pen these till the service was over. Such a refuge would inspire confidence and ensure safety; and even if the expeditionary ships did not afterwards require those stores on their return, the money loss would not be great.
As soon as the work at Melville Island was safely commenced, the two ships destined to remain out would proceed with the search. If they found a record there (as they certainly would, if they had not done so previously) of Sir John Franklin, they would follow its clue; but if they did not find this record, they would return eastward to Cape Walker. To this cape Sir John Franklin was particularly ordered to repair, and from it to make his way to the southward and westward. Here, therefore, if not at Melville Island, a record of him would be surely found, and the proceedings of the searching ships would be governed by it, leaving their despatches to be picked up by the store-ship as she returned homewards. The progress and course of the two ships would depend upon circumstances. We have supposed that they found a clue to Sir John Franklin's route and intentions on Cape Walker, and their orders would be to proceed as far west as they possibly could, and, if stopped on their way, to make southing and meet the parties from the main coast.
lines, I feel convinced; but whereabouts, is not easy to determine. They may be "fast" near the centre between Melville Island and the three great rivers of the continent; or they may have been forced northward, and, unable to get southward again to Bhering's Straits, have gone on to Russia in Asia. If the former, Sir John Frankin will, this winter, desert his ships, and walk over the ice to the continent; if the latter, he will be heard of through Russia ere the spring of 1850. It is admitted that this last supposition is an extreme one, but by no means is it an utterly improbable one. If we may reason upon the very little that is known upon the subject, the conclu sion we must come to is, that Sir John Franklin will attain Bhering's Straits, or the Russian settlement on the river Colville; for, if his ships had been fast in the ice anywhere near the longitude of Melville Island, in this his last year of subsistence, he would have used the last winter to walk to the continent, or to meet Sir James Ross; or this last summer, to have done so in his boats; but it has been ascertained that he has not done so, though every report of that sea was, that it was OPEN along the coast as far as the eye could reach."
The equipment of the ships and parties is the The next part of the plan relates to these par- next consideration. They would, of course, be ties, of which there should be one from each of liberally supplied with every necessary to sustain the three great rivers on the main coast. Their life, and to preserve health; and whatever could explorations should be made in boats, or on foot, be devised or suggested by the experience gained and each one of these should be ordered to make in those seas by former expeditions, should be as true a course as they possibly could for Melville granted and provided. It is needless to refer too Island. It is a less distance than Sir James Ross minutely to these points; common sense and comwalked; and, as there would be a depot there, mon feeling will ensure their being well attended and a secure refuge, no time or strength would be to; but it may be as well to suggest that the late lost in a back journey. It is impossible but that invention of cork bedding should be largely made one or all of these parties must strike upon the available. It is soft, dry, and wholesome; it track of Sir John Franklin; taking it for granted eradicates vermin, and is a refuge for all hands on that it was ascertained at Melville Island that he sudden emergencies of danger. It may be laid on had not gone northward; and at Cape Walker, the ground to sleep upon, its nature preventing the that he had gone southward and westward. And, damp or cold from affecting the person sleeping oh what would be the value of that word which upon it; it will serve as a float or raft to cross a should, for good or for evil, disperse the ever- river upon-a cork mattress of eight pounds will killing uncertainty which hangs over their myste- sustain a man safely, and even dry, in water; and rious fate? Let us suppose, then, that these par- eight such mattresses lashed together as a raft, ties have reached Melville Island. They would with oars or very small spars, will carry twenty have orders to remain there till a certain date, men; the ticking of these mattresses should be when they could retrace their steps, or, according made of gutta percha. Of this latter article, too, to circumstances, fit up boats which would take an abundant supply should be provided of all kinds them, at the season, out of the Sound to the and thicknesses. It would best serve for tents,
boats, boat-sails, shoes, clothes, and bags. It five more for returning, each man who so returned
The mode of travelling by the walking parties passage of the sledges; it might cost less labor to
anything to encounter which can justify hesitation | most extraordinary sight was now presented to me. or delay in the undertaking. Expedition is, in- Neander was standing on his right leg, his left one deed, all in all at this crisis; for it is the last sea- twisted around it in a singular way, and leaning son, the last hope, and, it may be said, it is the last at an angle of about thirty degrees, with his left moment! It is not the affair of an office; it is arm on the corner of the desk. In his left hand not the affair of a profession; it is not the affair he held a quill, which he was twisting round and of one man; but it is the affair of the nation, and round with his right. His eyes were closely shut. the affair of every individual in it. Let every From that moment I was certain that he was blind, Englishman, then, interest himself in it, and let and was not undeceived until the next Sunday, one and all see that it be done. when I happened to be near him at the Dome Concluding Note.-Sir John Ross' sojourn in church; while I was looking on him with pity, my that country for four years; Sir James Ross' jour-thoughts reverting to Milton, Belisarius, and other ney of five hundred miles in it in one winter only; and Sir John Franklin's voyage from the M'Kensie in two frail canoes, one of which could be carried on the head of one man, may be truly said to have conquered the country, and, as a lawyer would say, have proved the case! This deprives us of all excuse and subterfuge for inaction or despon-versity celebrations, I have not seen again the radidency; whilst Sir John Franklin's boat voyage, and his reasoning on turning back to the M'Kensie, prove the necessity of a depot to make for. “Had I,” said he, "been sure of finding the ships in Kotzebue Sound, I should have gone on ;" and, had he gone on, the honor of discovering that whole coast would have been his reward. But "the ships" had two duties to do, so that which was most important was sacrificed!
From the Commercial Advertiser.
Berlin, Dec. 18, 1849. WHAT educated American has not heard of this celebrated divine and scholar? What lover of German literature has not passed many a pleasant hour over the pages made immortal by the impress of his genius? The bishop stands the acknowledged head of the evangelical party in the Lutheran church, the most distinguished professor of theology in the University of Berlin, and the greatest German autnority in church history. Every stranger visiting Berlin should see and hear him. If one can hear him without seeing him, so much the better. have been several times at his lectures-the first ime without knowing who the speaker was to be. Precisely at the hour, in stepped a small, meagre, and very dark man, dressed in a dark brown frock-coat reaching nearly to his heels, and his thick, coarse, black hair standing on end as if he had just been started out of bed. He stepped forward, without looking to the right or left, to the small platform surmounted by a desk which serves as the speaker's stand.
great men who had lived in darkness, a strange preacher mounted the pulpit. At the sound of his voice Neander opened a most brilliant pair of rattish little eyes, gazed on the preacher a moment, and closed them again. Though I have seen him twenty times since, at lectures, church, and at uni
ant lustre of those diminutive orbs. Indeed, a friend at my elbow tells me that his sight is very weak, and that there is danger of his becoming totally blind. At his lectures it is ever the same thing
the same reclining posture, the same twisting of the quill and rocking of the desk on two legs, the same tight shutting of the eyes, the same long coat, a world too wide for his meagre and sinewy form, and, let me add, the same clearness and depth of thought and elevation of sentiment.
Bishop Neander is of Jewish descent, which is testified by his black hair, dark complexion, and tough, compact build. He was converted at an early age. At the close of his theological course of studies he was admitted to preach his trial sermon, but broke down in the middle of it, and was obliged to give it up. Perhaps this want of suecess had something to do with his subsequent almost exclusive devotion to church literature and history. It appears that he has always been eccentric in all his ways. In the management of the ordinary affairs of life he is not of remarkable force, as they are without interest to him. To a beggar he gives all the money he has in his pocket, even if it be the monthly salary which has just been thrust into his hand by the treasurer of the university. He has been known to give away his coat to some coatless mendicant, while on his way to an evening party, and shortly after to make his appearance there in a brown study and quite unconscious of his dishabille. His sister, with whom he lives, for he has never thought of getting married, takes excellent care of him, and keeps him, as much as she can, from exhibiting his absence of mind to Here he elevated the movable upper part of the public. But, spite of her directions, he will, the desk until it was as high as his shoulders, and walk around by his old home when he goes to the putting his left arm upon the corner, commenced university, though it is a quarter of a mile out of speaking, his head disappearing entirely from view. the way. But he was so long accustomed to the From where I sat I could see nothing of him ex-old road that in his abstracted state he naturally cept the left elbow above the desk, and, at regular takes it. One morning he complained to his sister intervals, his coat skirts as he rocked the high of being very lame, and that he had limped all the desk back and forth. Being determined that this way from the university. Still, he said, he felt no oddity should not escape me by taking to cover in pain, and could not remember having hurt himself. such an original way, I left my seat and took one The doctor was called, and examined the limb, but at the right of the lecturer and very near him. found no sign of injury.
From Morris and Willis' Home Journal.
cycle of Boston mind, and the father of thousands of lesser Emersons, he is the most unapproachably original and distinct monotype of our day; and, knowledge, laid eyes upon him. For this unacstrange to say, we had never, to the best of our countable want of recognition and singlification, living in the same town, as we were, when Emerson first began to preach and write, and never taking the trouble to go and behold him as a prophet, we must own to tardy perceptions—but it was doubtless due to his belonging to a sect which we supposed had but one relish, and which led us to dismiss what we heard of him, of course, with the idea that he was but a new addition to the prevailing Boston beverage of Channing-and-water.
The mystery was not explained until next day, | quainted with Neander's theological views will do when the doctor learned that his patient had limped well then to procure this work. because he had walked home with one foot in the street and the other on the curb-stone of the pavement. This anecdote is generally believed here, but may be of questionable authority-one of the THE announcement that Mr. Emerson was to many always told of absent-minded men. The lecture at the Mercantile Library, a few evenings following, however, is indisputably true. Nean- since, was a torpedo touch, even to that most exder's careful sister had taken away his old unmen-hausted and torpid thing on earth, editorial curitionables from his chair, one night, after he had osity-for, though the impregnator of a whole retired to bed, and placed a new pair on the table close by. When he rose early in the morning to go to his seven o'clock lecture, he either did not see them or supposed them to belong to somebody else; certain it is that he made his appearance at the lecture-room in his long frock-coat and high-topped boots, and otherwise perfectly dressed, if we except the garment usually considered indispensable. The lecture went off very well until an anxious servant girl entered the room and, gliding up to Neander, plucked him by the coat. He did not notice her at first, but kept rocking away; another pull, and his equilibrium was in danger. He turned round to her, and for once the students saw his beaming eyes The eye sometimes reverses, and always more wide open in the depths of the cavities where they or less qualifies, the judgment formed without its are hidden, and his heavy black eyebrows drawn aid; and we were very much disappointed, on up in astonishment. She whispered a few words arriving at the hall, to find the place crowded, and no chance of a near view of the speaker. The only into his ear. "Woman," he answered, with dig-foothold to be had was up against the farthest wall, nity," this is not a place to talk of pantaloons, but and a row of unsheltered gas-lights blazed between of scientific theology;" and resuming his old posi- us and the pulpit, with one at either ear-tip of the tion, went on with his lecture as if nothing had occupant, drowning the expression of his face comhappened. All the students entered the scene on pletely in the intense light a little behind it. To their note-books at once, and the poor girl retired look at him at all was to do so with needles to the professor's waiting-room, where Neander this, by way of a general protest against the unthrough the eyes; and we take the trouble to define consented at the proper time to don the garment. shaded gas-burners of the Tabernacle, Stuyvesant Institute, and other public rooms-where an ophthalmia is very likely to be added to the bad air and hard seats with which the "evening's entertainment" is presented.
His eccentricities, which proceed only from habitual absence of mind, do not prevent his being highly respected in Berlin. He is generally chosen by the court to officiate in important ceremonies. For instance, he makes the prayer when a royal statue is to be erected, or the chambers are to be opened, and performs the marriage ceremony for the members of the different branches of the royal family. During the March revolution he was the head of the last deputation sent by the people to the king
before the combat.
The single look we were enabled to give Mr. come into the pulpit, revealed to us that it was a Emerson, as the applause announced that he had man we had seen a thousand times, and with whose face our memory was familiar; though, in the sidewalk portrait-taking by which we had treasured his physiognomy, there was so little resemblance to the portrait taken from reading him, that His church history is esteemed by many theolo- we should never have put the two together, probgians the best and most philosophical in the Ger-member him perfectly, as a boy whom we used to ably, except by personal identification. man language. One of his pupils and most ar- see playing about Chauncey Place and Summerdent admirers is Professor T. L. Jacoby, of this street-one of those pale little moral-sublimes, with city, who is also a lecturer of high repute on the- their shirt collars turned over, who are recognized ology. This last gentleman will publish, in a month or two, at the press of C. G. Loederitz, of Berlin, a manual of church history. A copy has been placed in my hands, with a request to notice the work, and to say that it is now in course of translation into English, under the supervision of the author himself, and will be published as soon as possible at London and New York. An elegantly written preface by Neander himself says that the manual is excellent, and has been prepared in compliance with his oft-repeated requests, and in exact harmony with his views of historical and Christian truth. Those who wish to become ac
by Boston school-boys as having "fathers that are Unitarians"-and though he came to his first short hair about the time that we came to our first tail-coat, six or eight years behind us, we have never lost sight of him. In the visits we have made to Boston, of late years, we have seen him in the street, and remembered having always seen him as a boy-very little suspecting that there walked, in a form long familiar, the deity of an intellectual altar, upon which, at that moment, burned a fire in
Emerson's voice is up to his reputation. It has a curious contradiction, which we tried in vain to analyze satisfactorily an outwardly repellant and inwardly reverential mingling of qualities, which a