ds in the "Erebus" and "Terror:" thus
alternately elated and saddened, we enjoyed, with earnest feelings, the
wondrous scene around us.

Imagine yourself, dear reader, on the edge of a lofty table-land,
which, dipping suddenly at your feet, sloped again to the sea of ice,
at a distance of some 500 feet below; fancy a vast plain of ice and
snow, diversified by tiers of broken-up ice and snow-wreaths, which,
glistening on the one side, reflected back the moonlight with an
exceeding brilliancy, whilst the strong shadow on the farther side of
the masses threw them out in strong relief; four lone barks, atoms in
the extensive landscape,--the observers' home,--and beyond them, on the
horizon, sweeping in many a bay, valley, and headland, the coast of
Cornwallis Island, now bursting upon the eye in startling distinctness,
then receding into shadow and gloom, and then anon diversified with
flickering shades, like an autumnal landscape in our own dear land, as
the fleecy clouds sailed slowly across the moon,--she the while riding
through a heaven of deepest blue, richly illuminated by the
constellations of the northern hemisphere, wheeling around the Polar
Star like armies in review,--and say if the North has not its charms
for him who can appreciate such novel aspects of Nature.

If you still doubt it, let us descend the adjacent ravine, formed as if
some giant hand had rent the firm cliff from crown to basement; stand
we now at its upper entrance, where it slopes away to the table-land
behind,--didst ever see a sight more wildly beautiful? The grim and
frowning buttresses on either hand, too steep for even the snow-flake
to rest upon, whilst over its brow a pigmy glacier topples with
graceful curve, or droops in many an icy wreath and spray, threatening
us with destruction as we slide down the sharp declivity. Now, with
many a graceful curve, the gorge winds down to the frozen sea, a
glimpse of which forms the background to the lower entrance. Observe
how the snow, which, by wintry gales, has been swept into the ravine,
has hardened into masses, resembling naught so much as a fierce rapid
suddenly congealed; and then look overhead, to a deep blue sky,
spangled with a million spheres; if thou couldst have seen this, and
much more than pen or tongues can tell, and not admire it, then I say,

"God help thee,
Thou hast reason to be sad."

[Headnote: _OPEN WATERS IN BARROW'S STRAIT._]

As late as the 18th of N