seemed as if the blessed Virgin was singing near the cradle of her son. At length the music ceased, and Gottfried was seen on his knees, holding the taper between both his hands, motionless, pale as a statue, his beautiful blue eyes fixed and half closed; around his pale lips played an innocent smile, such as is sometimes seen on the lips of those who have expired with feelings of piety and hope. It is not possible to say what he felt during the music, but it may be easily imagined; no doubt it was delightful, for his visage bore the stamp of beatitude, and of innocence so marked, that the children of the choir penetrated with holy awe, placed themselves at a distance from him, but still kept their eyes on him.

The service being ended, the organ played again, when to the great surprise of all present, Gottfried rose up again, and with a clear and sweet voice, pronounced the sacred words that he had recited to the Duke:-" Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men."-Scarce had the words escaped him when the taper fell from his hands, his head sunk on his breast, the ringlets of his flaxen hair fell on one side, and the Duke perceiving him, ran and took him in his arms.

Whether Gottfried knew him or not, his little head fell on the Duke's shoulder, and he yielded up his last breath. His bodily weakness was not sufficient to bear him up under such various emotions, and God, in his mercy, took to himself his pure and innocent spirit. Young as he was he had loved his God, he had fulfilled every duty required of him at his early age, he was ripe for heaven, and without doubt became one of its angels. Otto embraced him and wept over him; the Archbishop pronounced the Deo gratias, and the two brothers extended a hand over the inanimate corpse of Gottfried.

"seems to have been offered as an ob"This child," said the Archbishop, without spot; by his death thy reconlation for thy sins; he is a victim ciliation with God is complete, and without doubt at this instant he intercedes for thee at the throne of grace. Thou weepest tenderly over him; was he known to thee? Knowest thou who were his parents?"

hour ago that I saw this child for the "No," replied Otto; "it is but an my heart to repentance, and without the first time: it is he who opened doubt, he was sent by heaven."

To be continued.

From the European Magazine, Ap. 1,1820.

CAPT. SCORESBY'S VOYAGES.*

The magnitude of this work makes us règret our limits will not allow us to give otherwise than a very curtailed detail of it. The author, who has been a navigator of some experience to the part in question, has considerably added to his own knowledge whatever information he could gain from the best authors, and leaves nothing to be doubted as to the result respecting the progress of discovery in the Arctic regions, to which subject he has appropriated the first volume of his work : the whale fishery, which is the subject of the second. or respecting the history of

We observe Mr. Scoresby is of opinion that a North-west passage certainly exists; yet, in a commercial point of view, he does not surmise it can be of much advantage, as, from the nature of the latitude, it could only be open for eight or ten weeks, and that only at certain intervals. Hence the discovery of a passage to the Pacific Ocean would be of no real service.

It must afford a heartfelt pleasure to those interested in the fate of the expedition in that quarter, to be told by a navigator of the author's skill and intelligence, there is no risk in wintering in the Northern parts of Baffin's Bay, though he seems to think that journeys by land would only lead to the accomplishment of the object in view. But hear his own words :

"Men there are," he alleges," who, being long used to travel upon snow in the service of the Hudson's
Bay Company, would readily undertake the journey from the interior lakes of North America to the
Frozen Ocean, or, in case of a continuity of land being found, to the very pole itself; of whose success
we should certainly have a reasonable ground of hope.
coveries has been fully proved by the journeys of Mackenzie and Hearn.”
The practicability of this made of making dis-
His description of the mode of travelling over the snow leads us to
land, is to be found for a wide extent round the Pole; nay, that even travellers might find their way
suppose that ice, and not

*An Account of the Arctic Regions, with a Description of the Northern Whale Fishery. By W. Scoresby, F.R.S.E. Illustrated by 24 Engravings. 8vo. 2 vols.

over the ice quite to Spitzbergen: and he ridicules the idea of there being open sea there, as he imagines no vessel ever yet penetrated beyond eighty-one and a half degrees.

Having, as we before observed, treated in the first volume of the possibility of a sea communication between the Atlantic and Pacific, he proceeds, from his own observation, to give us some account of the Polar countries.

We cannot deny ourselves the pleasure of making a few extracts relating to that mighty monster of the deep, the whale :

Surprising Vigour of a Whale.

a tongue of the ice, on which was a depth of several feet of water, kept the boat, by the pressure of the line against it, at such a considerable distance, as prevented the crew from leaping upon the floe. Some of them were therefore put to the necessity of swimming for their preservation, but all of them succeeded in scrambling upon the ice, and were taken on board of the ship in a few minutes afterwards.

I may here observe, that it is an uncommon circumstance for a fish to require more than two boats' lines in such a situation; none of our harpooners, therefore, had any scruple in leav ing the fast-boat, never suspecting, af ter it had received the assistance of one boat with six lines or upward, that it would need any more.

Several ships being about us, there

N the 25th of June, 1812, one of the harpoonefs belonging to the Resolution, of Whitby, under my command, struck a whale by the edge of a Assistance being small floe of ice. promptly afforded, a second boat's lines was attached to those of the fust-boat, in a few minutes after the harpoon was discharged. The remainder of the boats proceeded at some distance, in the direction the fish seemed to have taken. In about a quarter of an hour the fastboat, to my surprise, again made a signal for lines. As the ship was then within five minutes sail, we instantly steered towards the boat, with the view of affording assistance by means of a spare boat we still retained on board. Before we reached the place, however, we observed four oars displayed in signal order, which by their number, indicated a most urgent necessity for assistance. Two or three men were at the same time seen seated close by the stern, which was considerably elevated, for the purpose of keeping it down; while the bow of the boat, by the force of the line, was drawn down to the level of the sea, and the harpooner, by the friction of the line round the bollard, was enveloped in smoky obscurity. At length, when the ship was scarcely 100 yards distant, we perceived preparations for quitting the boat. The sailors' peajackets were cast upon the adjoining ice, the oars were thrown down, the crew leaped overboard, the bow of the The whale resolutely pushed boat was buried in the water, the stern rose perpendicularly and then majesti- beneath a large floe that had been recally disappeared. The harpooner cently broken to pieces by the swell, having caused the end of the line to be and soon drew all the lines out of the fastened to the iron ring at the boat's second fast-boat; the officer of which, stern, was the means of its loss; and not being able to get any assistance, • “Giving a whale the boat," as the voluntary fied the end of his line to a hummock sacrifice of a boat is termed, is a scheme not unfre- of ice, and broke it. Soon afterwards, quently practised by the fisher when in want of the other two boats, still fast, line. By submitting to this risk, he expects to gain dragged against the broken floe, whe

the fish, and still has the chance of recovering his
boat and its materials. It is only practised in open
ice or at fields,

a possibility that some person was might attack and make a prize of the whale, when it had so far escaped us, that we no longer retained any hold of it; as such, we set all the sail the ship could safely sustain, and worked through several narrow and intricate channels After a little in the ice, in the direction I observed the fish had retreated. time, it was descried by the people in the boats, at a considerable distance to the eastward; a general chase immedi ately commenced, and within the space of an hour three harpoons were struck. We now imagined the fish was secure, but our expectations were premature.

were

one of the harpoons drew out. The lines of only one boat, therefore, r

mained fast to the fish, and this with six or eight lines out, was dragged forward into the shattered floe with astonishing force. Pieces of ice, each of which was sufficiently large to have answered the purpose of a mooring for a ship were wheeled about by the strength of the whale; and such was the tension and elasticity of the line, that whenever it slipped clear of any mass of ice, after turning it round, into the space between any two adjoining pieces, the boat and its crew flew forward through the crack, with the velocity of an arrow, and never failed to launch several feet upon the first mass of ice that it encountered.

While we scoured the sea around the broken floe with the ship, and while the ice was attempted in vain by the boats, the whale continued to press forward in an easterly direction towards the sea. At length, when 14 lines (about 1680 fathoms) were drawn from the fourth fast-boat, a slight entanglement of the line, broke it at the stem. The fish then again made its escape, taking along with it a boat and 28 lines. The united length of the lines was 6720 yards, or upwards of 3 English miles; value, with the boat, above 150l. sterling.

The obstruction of the sunken boat, to the progress of the fish, must have been immense; and that of the lines likewise considerable; the weight of lines alone, being 35 hundred weight., So long as the fourth fast-boat, through the medium of its lines, retain ed its bold of the fish, we searched the adjoining sea with the ship in vain; but, in a short time after the line was divided, we got sight of the object of pursuit, at the distance of near two miles to the eastward of the ice and boats, in the open sea. One boat only with lines, and two empty boats, were reserved by the ship. Having, however, fortunately fine weather, and a fresh breeze of wind, we immediately gave chase under all sails; though, it must be confessed, with the insignificant force by us, the distance of the fish, and the rapidity of its flight considered, we had but very small hopes of success. At length, after pursuing it five or six

miles, being at least nine miles from the place where it was struck, we came up with it, and it seemed inclined to rest after its extraordinary exertions. The two dismantled or empty boats having been furnished with two lines each, (a very inadequate supply,) they, together with the one in a good state of equipment, now made an attack upon the whale. One of the harpooners made a blunder; the fish saw the boat, took the alarm, and again fled. I now supposed it would be seen no more; nevertheless, we chased nearly a mile in the direction I imagined it had taken, and placed the boats to the best of my judgment, in the most advantageous situations. In this case we were extremely fortunate. The fish rose near one of the boats, and was immediately barpooned. In a few minutes two more harpoons entered its back, and lances were plied against it with vigour and success. Exhausted by its amazing exertions to escape, it yielded itself at length to its fate, received the piercing wounds of the lances without resistance, and finally died without a struggle. Thus terminated with success, an attack upon a whale, which exhibited the most uncommon determination to es

cape

from its pursuers, seconded by the most amazing strength of any individual whose capture I ever witnessed. After all, it may seem surprising, that it was not a particularly large individual; the largest lamina of whalebone only measuring 9 feet six inches, while those affording 12 feet bone are not uncommon. 1. The quantity of line withdrawn from the different boats engaged in the capture, was singularly great. It amounted, altogether, to 10,440 yards, or nearly six English miles. Of these, 13 new lines were lost, together with the sunken boat; the harpoon connecting them to the fish having dropt out before the whale was killed.

"Fishers thrown overboard, by the jerking or sudden heeling of the Bouts, in consequence of blows from Whales.—

-On the 3d of June 1811, a boat from

It has been frequently observed, that whales of this size are the most active of the species; and that

those of a very large growth are, in general, captured with less trouble.

the ship Resolution, commanded at the time by myself, put off in pursuit of a whale, and was rowed upon its back. At the moment that it was harpooned, it struck the side of the boat a violent blow with its tail, the shock of which threw the boat-steerer to some distance into the water. A repetition of the blow projected the harpooner and line-manager in a similar way, and completely drenched the part of the crew remaining in the boat, with the sprays. One of the men regained the boat, but as the fish immediately sunk, and drew the boat away from the place, his two companions in misfortune were soon left far beyond the reach of assistance. The harpooner though a practised swimmer, felt himself so bruised and enervated by a blow he had received on the chest, that he was totally incapacitated from giving the least support to his fellow sufferer. The ship being happily near, a boat which had been lowered on the first alarm, arrived to their succour, at the moment when the linemanager, who was unacquainted with the art of swimming, was on the point of sinking, to rise no more. Both the line-manager and harpooner were preserved; and the fish, after a few hours close pursuit, was subdued.

A large whale harpooned from a boat belonging to the same ship, became the subject of a general chase on

the 23d of June, 1809. Being myself in the first boat which approached the fish, I struck my harpoon at arm's length, by which we fortunately evaded a blow that appeared to be aimed at the boat. Another boat then advanced, and another harpoon was struck, but not with the same result; for the stroke was immediately returned by a tremendous blow from the fish's tail. The boat was sunk by the shock; and, at the same time, whirled round with such velocity, that the boat-steerer was precipitated into the water, on the side next to the fish, and was accidentally carried down to a considerable depth by its tail. After a minute or so, he arose to the surface of the water and was taken up, along with his companions, into my boat. A similar attack was made on the next boat which came up; but the harpooner being warned of the prior conduct of the fish, used such precautions, that the blow, though equal in strength, took effect only in an inferior degree. The boat was slightly stove. The activity and skill of the lancers soon overcame this designing whale, accomplished its capture, and added its produce to the cargo of the ship. Such intentional mischief on the part of a whale it must be observed, is an occurrence which is somewhat rare."

TH

From the Literary Gazette.
WORDSWORTH'S NEW POEMS.*

HIS volume will be published next week; and we are called upon to give our opinion upon it, as far and as correctly as one perusal admits. Under such circumstances, it is a very gratifying relief to our minds to have a report almost unmixedly favourable to make. We consider these poems to be by much the least mannered and most beautiful of any that this distinguished individual has ever written. There is a tenderness which runs through them of the truest nature; their pathos is genuine and affecting; many of their images bear the impress of genius, and

touches of soul are thickly sown over them; and, to those who are familiar with our sentiments respecting the miscalled simplicities of Peter Bells, Waggoners, Daffodils, &c., it will not seem a slight recommendation of the forthcoming work, that it is almost entirely unstained with similar puerilities.

The River Duddon," is a composition consisting of thirty-three Sonnets, suggested by various views of that stream, and reflections arising out of

*The River Duddon; a Series of Sonnets : and other Poems, &c. By Wm. Wordsworth.

them.
river which flows from Wrynose Fall,
at first through a mountain district, and
thence through a more cultivated tract,
for twenty-five miles, and enters the
Irish sea, is highly poetical.

The second, an address to the A gloomy Niche, capacious, blank and cold

Child of the clouds! remote from every taint
Of sordid industry thy lot is cast;
Thine are the honours of the lofty waste;
Not seldom, when with heat the valleys faint,
Thy hand-maid Frost with spangled tissue quaint
Thy cradle decks ;-to chaunt thy birth, thou hast
No meaner Poet than the whistling Blast,
And Desolation is thy Patron-saint!

She guards thee, ruthless Power! who would not spare
Those mighty forests, once the bison's screen,
Where stalk'd the huge deer to his shaggy lair*
Through paths and alleys roofed with sombre green,
Thousand of years before the silent air
Was pierced by whizzing shaft of hunter keen!

The third is rather formal in its rhymes; and the fourth does not meet

A concave free from shrubs and mosses grey;
In semblance fresh, as if, with dire affray,

Some Statue, placed amid these regions old
For tutelary service, thence had rolled,
Startling the flight of timid Yesterday!

Was it by mortals sculptur'd ?-weary slaves
Of slow endeavour! or abruptly east
Into rude shape by fire, with roaring blast
Tempestuously let loose from central caves?
Or fashioned by the turbulence of waves,
Then, when o'er highest hills the Deluge past?

The following, the 21st, possesses a most interesting tenderness and flush of imagination.

Whence that low voice?-A whisper from the heart
That told of days long past when here I roved
With friends and kindred tenderly beloved;
Some who had early mandates to depart,
Yet are allowed to steal my path athwart
By Duddon's side; once more do we unite,
Once more beneath the kind Earth's tranquil light ;
And smother'd joys into new being start.
From her unworthy seat, the cloudy stall

our ideas so strikingly as that which fol- Of Time, breaks forth triumphant Memory;
lows it.

Sole listener, Duddon! to the breeze that play'd
With thy clear voice, I caught the fitful sound
Wafted o'er sullen moss and craggy mound,
Unfruitful solitudes, that seem'd to upbraid
The sun in heaven!-but now, to form a shade
For Thee, green alders have together wound
Their foliage; ashes flung their arms around;
And birch-trees risen in silver colonnade.
And thou hast also tempted here to rise,
'Mid sheltering pines, this Cottage rude and
Whose ruddy children, by the mother's eyes
Carelessly watch'd, sport through the summer day,
Thy pleas'd associates :-light as endless May
On infant bosoms lonely Nature lies.

grey;

The eleventh, entitled "The Fairy
Chasm," claims a place for its fancy.

No fiction was it of the antique age:
Asky-blue stone, within this sunless cleft,
Is of the very foot-marks unbereft

Which tiny Elves impress'd ;-on that smooth stage
Dancing with all their brilliant equipage

In secret revels-haply after theft

Of some sweet babe, flower stolen, and coarse weed left,

For the distracted mother to assuage

Her grief with, as she might ;-But, where, oh where
Is traceable a vestige of the notes
That ruled those dances, wild in character?
-Deep underground?~Or in the upper air,

On the shrill wind of midnight? or where floats
O'er twilight fields the autumnal gossamer?

Her glistening tresses bound, yet light and fece
As golden locks of birch, that rise and fall
On gales that breathe too gently to recal
Aught of the fading year's inclemency!

No record tells of lance opposed to lance,
Horse charging horse mid these retired domains:
Nor that their turf drank purple from the veins
Of heroes fall'n, or struggling to advance,
Till doubtful combat issued in a trance
Of victory, that struck through heart and reins,
Even to the inmost seat of mortal pains,
And lightened o'er the pallid countenance.
Yet, to the loyal and the brave, who lie
In the blank earth, neglected and forlorn,
The passing Winds memorial tribute pay;
The Torrents chaunt their praise, inspiring scorn
Of power usurp'd,-with proclamation high,
And glad acknowledgment of lawful sway.

The same poetic veins run through
the last three of the series, and we make
no excuse for copying them entirely.
Not hurled precipitous from steep to steep;
Lingering no more mid flower-enamelled lands
And blooming thickets; nor by rocky bands
Held ;-but in radiant progress tow'rd the Deep
Where mightiest rivers into powerless sleep
Sink, and forget their nature ;-now expands
Majestic Duddon, over smooth flat sands,
Gliding in silence with unfettered sweep!
Beneath an ampler sky a region wide

Is opened round him ;-hamlets, towers and towns,
And blue-topp'd hills, behold him from afar ;

The fifteenth is grandly descriptive In stately mien to sovereign Thames allied,

From this deep chasm-where quivering sunbeams play

Upon its loftiest crags-mine eyes

behold

The deer alluded to is the Leigh, a gigantic species long since extinct.

Spreading his bosom under Kentish downs,
With Commerce freighted or triumphant War.

But here no cannon thunders to the gale;
Upon the wave no baughty pendants cast
A crimson splendour: lowly is the mast