Do any of your correspondents possess or know of any MS. on Election or
Free-will, of the time of the Reformation, which might possibly be the
missing treatise? Things turn up so curiously, in quarters where one would
least expect it, and sometimes after more than three centuries, that one
would willingly hope that this lost treatise might even yet be found or
identified.

T.

Bath.

* * * * *

LINES WRITTEN DURING THE ARCTIC EXPEDITION.

The accompanying is from the pen of one of the officers who bore a
prominent position in one of the expeditions under Sir Edward Parry in
search of a north-west passage. Not having been in print, except in private
circulation, it may be deemed worthy of a place in your valuable journal.

ARCTICUS.

THOUGHTS ON NEW YEAR'S DAY.

"The moments of chasten'd delight are gone by,
When we left our lov'd homes o'er new regions to rove,
When the firm manly grasp, and the soft female sigh,
Mark'd the mingled sensations of friendship and love.
That season of pleasure has hurried away,
When through far-stretching ice a safe passage we found[1],
That led us again to the dark rolling sea,
And the signal was seen, 'On for Lancaster's Sound.'[2]

"The joys that were felt when we pass'd by the shore
Where no footsteps of Man had e'er yet been imprest,
When rose in the distance no mountain-tops hoar
As the sun of the ev'ning bright gilded the west,
Full swiftly they fled--and that hour, too, is gone
When we gain'd the meridian, assign'd as a bound
To entitle our crews to their country's first boon,
Hail'd by all as an omen _the passage_ was found.

"And pass'd with our pleasures are moments of pain,
Of anxious suspense, and of eager alarm.
Environ'd by ice, skill and ardour were vain
The swift moving mass of its force to disarm--
Yet, dash'd on the beach and our boats torn away,
No anchors could hold us, nor cables secure;
The dread and the peril expir'd with the day,
When none but High Heaven could our safety ensure.

"Involv'd with the ages existent before,
Is the year that has brought us thus far on our way,
And gratitude calls us our God to adore,
For the oft-renewed mercies its annals display.
The gloomy meridian of darkness is past,
And ere long shall gay spring bid the herbage revive;
On the wide waste of ice she'll re-echo the blast,
And the firm prison'd ocean its fetters shall rive