convinced of its excellence, and my heart assented to its efficacy, I cannot think the regret would be very poignant.

Of course, in asserting, as I now do, my conviction that Southey's new line of authorship is not likely to be prejudicial; I take it for granted, that he will acquit himself in it with tolerable candour and fairness. I make this assumption, because I am fully convinced that the reverse could only be hurtful to himself, and because I am perfectly satisfied that it is not in his power, and am quite willing to believe it is not his intention, to do any injury, or inflict any pain, on the sects whose histories he undertakes to record: in this age and country, such apprehensions appear to me little short of absurd. We may safely entrust to our sectarians of every denomination, the defence of their own religious principles, and the telling of their own story, if their self-constituted historian does not tell it to their mind. The Life of Wesley has already called forth sundry replies, and more are said to be forthcoming: nor can I doubt for one moment that the Quakers will see equal justice done to the character of Fox, and the tenets of their sect, if the former should be impeached, or the latter attacked unfairly by the writer of his life, and the historian of their annals. This part of my subject, however, leads me unavoidably to offer a few remarks on what Southey has done in his Life of Wesley, and also what may be plausibly antici pated respecting his Life of Fox.

The former topic I shall discuss with brevity, not only because the latter is more immediately my theme, but because the Life of Wesley is already before the public, and therefore the good or evil tendency of it must take its course. I have read this performance carefully; and though I think there is a good deal in it, with which a zealous admirer of John Wesley may find fault, and not a little from which one, who is not such, may dissent,-I see comparatively trifling ground for impeaching the intentional fairness of the writer. The prudence and propriety of particular passages may be called in question, certainly; and both the

Moravians and Calvinists have fair scope afforded them for animadver sion on the author; but I see nothing in the work which at all induces me to retract what I have stated in the earlier part of this paper, respecting the probable advantages or disadvantages of these compilations. What is objectionable, in the specimen now offered to the public, appears to me capable of easy refutation, and its ill effects will soon probably subside; what is va luable will, I trust, be most enduring, and may, I would hope, be permanently useful. For my own part, I candidly confess, that Wesley's character, even as given by Southey, is one of the most amiable and estimable kind; and I should think far from highly of the head or the heart of the reader, who could close the volumes without esteem, love, and veneration for such characters as Wesley, Whitefield, or Fletcher. But, as I have before observed, this work, "be its intent wicked or charitable," is out; and, therefore, is less an object of my consideration than the one which is forthcoming. It would be useless now, I fear, to convince its author that it might have been improved; but it may not be useless to state to him some of the difficulties. which his present task presents, or appears to present, while those difficulties may still be avoidable.

That in compiling the history of the Quakers, Southey will allow the fear of offending these sectaries to prevent him from discussing their tenets, fully and freely, it would be ridiculous to suppose. That he will endeavour to do this fairly, I have no doubt; and that his work will be an entertaining one, may, I think, be plausibly conjectured. But merely to afford amusement, is an object which, on such an occasion, I am persuaded he would consider as every way unworthy of the time and la bour his task must necessarily impose. If, however, as every one would hope, and as every_liberal mind would believe, his aims are higher, and his end nobler; he will render his work more than entertaining: to do this he must be a little less indefatigable in his research, a little less philosophical in his analysis of motives, and a little more diffident

In his determination to account for actions, than, in the exercise of his gifts and acquirements, his inclination alone may dictate. That, with every desire to do justice to his subject he should at once satisfy Quakers and others too, it would be unreasonable to expect. But if he means to be the historian of all our sects in rotation, and to discuss all the "isms" in succession; it may be well for him to remember that he undertakes a task of considerable delicacy; and that the utility of his successive histories must depend, not on their being occasionally flattering to the vanity of the respective sectarians, and occasionally palatable to the church; but that this prouder prerogative must be the result of their uniform accordance with truth, with consistency, and with candour. It is this consideration, indeed, more than any peculiar or personal interest which I feel in what Southey has done, or has announced, that induces me to discuss this new bent of his fertile and active mind. It is one which at once presents palpable temptations to abuse, and which may afford equal opportunities of dignified and extensive usefulness. Taking leave, therefore, of all confined and bigoted views of the subject, and meeting him on the broader basis, which I take to be his own assumed ground of discussion; and regarding him in the light in which I believe he would wish to be contemplated, that of a candid and philosophical chronicler of the various diversities of human opinion; I would, respectfully, but at the same time, seriously and earnestly ask him, if he has deeply considered the responsibility devolving on any individual, who thus, to a certain extent at least, takes upon himself an office of no ordinary magnitude,—that of not only canvassing the creeds of sects, but of pronouncing opinions on the objects and motives of their respective votaries. I think I have sufficiently explained, that, as far as respects the parties themselves, on whom he volunteers his judicial functions, no serious cause of anxiety is imposed. What he does amiss can, in my view of the matter, do them no material or lasting injury; what he does well may do them immediate and posi

tive good. But, admitting this, and allowing him, as I willingly do, all imaginable goodness of intention in these undertakings, I must still maintain, that he voluntarily places himself in a post of difficulty, delicacy, and responsibility; and assumes a province in which the obligations to vigilance, self-distrust, humility, and meekness, are imperious and manifold. Whatever may have been the weaknesses, or the imperfections in judgment, of the men who were instrumental in founding the sects to which the attention of Southey has been turned, or those which may hereafter claim it; they were, at any rate, men of fervent piety, of devoted zeal, of no superficial attainments in vital religion. They were men of whom it may emphatically be said that in simplicity, and godly sincerity, and not after fleshly wisdom, they had their conversation with the world. Religion, with them, was not a matter of curious speculation, or of abstract philosophical disquisition; but of primary importance, of deep feeling, and of all-absorbing interest. It was their meat and their drink; their all in all: it not only found no competitor, but acknowledged no necessary ally, in either poetry, criticism, politics, or philosophy. These things were to such men as less than nothing, and vanity, compared with the sublime truths of the Gospel, and their important bearings on the future destiny of man. Now, taking for granted, on the part of Southey, the existence of literary gifts and acquirements of no common stamp; assigning to him all the philosophical acuteness and acquaintance with human nature, which his warmest admirers would ascribe to him; and combining even these endowments with all possible uprightness of intention, for which I am quite ready to give him credit; it still may be doubted, whether, in the deep mysteries of grace, the hidden things of the kingdom, the responses of the oracles of God,-and these things constitute the essence of the rise and progress of Christian sects; I repeat, that on such themes, it may be doubted, whether Wesley and Whitefield, Fox and Penn-are inferior to their historian. At least. it appears to impose no trifling re

trating so far westward within the Arctic circle, as to entitle themselves to the reward of 5000l. allotted by Act of Parliament for the achievement of that enterprise. In order to commemorate this success, a bluff head which they had just passed was called Bounty Cape; and Captain Parry, having assembled the crews after Divine service on the 5th, announced to them their good fortune, and ordered an addition to their allowance for the day. We may be permitted, here, to remark, en passant, that nothing could well have exceeded the attention to the minutest circumstances which regarded his seamen, the inventive powers for the promotion of good humour, or the zeal and benevolence with which he put his plans into execution, than was evinced by the commander of this expedition throughout the whole of the voyage. Shortly after this, a fresh gale arising from the northward, and the ice continuing to oppose an impenetrable barrier to their further progress, they dropped anchor in a bay of Melville Island, which they named the Bay of the Hecla and Griper. Some of the crew landed on this island, where they collected in a day two thirds of a bushel of coals, being equal to the daily consumption of the Hecla; and Mr. Dealy was fortunate enough to kill the first musk ox to which the sportsmen could get near. It was at such a distance, however, from the ship, that they could not transport it thither; but a piece of the beef was brought as a sample, the taste of which appears to have been much more inviting than the perfume. The crews of both vessels suffered here the most serious apprehensions for the safety of Mr. Fife, and a party from the Griper, who had lost their way on the island, while deer hunting. The whole earth was one waste of white around them; and the snow continued to fall so incessantly, that the various flagstaffs which were set up as guides could not be discerned at a few yards' distance. Just, however, as the sun was descending on the third day from their departure, a signal from the Griper announced the joyful intelligence that they were descried on their return. The account which they gave was, that they had lost their way a few hours after their

separation from the ship, and had wandered about ever since. At night they endeavoured to shelter themselves from the inclemency of the weather, by erecting little huts of stones and turf, and setting fire with gunpowder to the loose moss. Their food consisted of raw grouse, of which fortunately they were able to obtain sufficient for their subsistence. They were much debilitated, and severely frost-bitten, both in the toes and fingers; and the night on which they returned proved so dreadfully inclement, that their exposure under it must have been certain death. In gratitude for this signal escape, they distinguished the western head-land by the title of Cape Providence.

Captain Parry had been given the option by the Admiralty of returning to England after he had minutely explored Lancaster's Sound, or of wintering in the Arctic regions, as he thought proper. He preferred the latter; and the increasing perils of the navigation, the unpromising appearance of the ice to the westward, together with the advanced period of the season, admonished him that it was now high time to look out for winter quarters. He determined to return to the Bay of the Hecla and Griper, as being the only one which he had observed as at all calculated for security. He proceeded, therefore, on his return; which was effected slowly, and with considerable difficulty, owing to the perpetual formation of the ice, which was never interrupted, although the waters were agitated by a hard gale. What was their mortification, on their arrival off Fife's Harbour, to find that the whole bay was covered with one solid sheet of ice, which had been formed since their previous visit! It became, however, absolutely necessary to secure themselves for the winter; and in doing this, the sailors displayed wonderful ingenuity and perseverance. The only way to preserve the ships was, by cutting a passage for them through the ice; and to accomplish this, they, in the face of snow storms, actually worked nineteen hours during the first day! Our readers may have some idea of the extent of this undertaking, when we inform them that the length of this canal was 4082 yards, and that the average thickness of the ice was