free from ice, and the current uniformly set to the north east. In the latitude of 661, he came to an inlet, in the entrance of which is an island. This inlet he traced in boats to some distance, but the navigation became at length so impeded by sand banks, that he was unable to advance more than a mile in three hours; and he therefore resolved to suspend his investigation for the present, and resume it in the following year, when he should have procured some small baidars from the Aleutian islands. This inlet he christened Schischmareff bay, though he was disposed to believe that it was probably a strait which 'divided the coast into several islands.

Pursuing his course to the north east, Kotzebue soon reached another inlet of much larger size, and he now began to flatter himself that he was destined to be the discoverer of the long sought passage. In exploring this inlet, which extends nearly a degree and a half south east into the land, and is in some places nearly a degree in breadth, Kotzebue employed a fortnight, yet some parts of it seem to have been but imperfectly surveyed. It contains several bays and coves, and is well peopled with Indians, who bear a strong resemblance to the Tschutski, as described by Cook, On the western side of the inlet, Kotzebue found an opening, which was navigable, though with difficulty, the shallows being numerous. Having asked an old Indian how far this opening extended, "he understood me at last, (says Kotzebue) and made answer by the following pantomimic ges tures. He sat down upon the ground, rowed quickly with his arms, which occupied him interruptedly nine times, as often closing his eyes, and laying down his head upon his hand; by which I understood that it would take me nine days to reach the open sea by this arm." The Russian commander is of opinion

that this arm runs either into Norton sound, or Schischmareff bay; it is most probable that it unites with the latter, as it is nearly in the same parallel of latitude. As the season was advancing, he postponed the further examination of it till the following year. To the whole of the sound Kotzebue gave his own name, and on its capes and bays he bestowed the names of his partners in the voyage.

On the shore, in one part of the sound, they made a curious discovery. "During our stay, (says Kot zebue) we had been wandering about for some time, without suspecting that we were walking upon ice Dr. Eschsholz, on a more extensive tour, now found, on a spot where some of the bank had fallen down, that the interior of the hill consisted of pure ice. On learning this, we all provided ourselves with tools for digging, and soon came to a spot where the bank rises almost perpendicularly to a height of a hundred fet, and, still ascending, runs further back. Here we saw the purest masses of ice, a hundred feet high, lying under a cover of moss or grass, and which could only owe their origin to a dreadful revolution. The broken part, which is now exposed to the effects of the sun and atmosphere, is dissolving, and a great stream of water flows from it into the sea. An incontestible proof that the ice which we saw was of a primitive construction, may be inferred from the many bones and teeth of the mammoth that have been discovered by the thawing of these masses, by which I also found a very fine tooth. We were likewise at a loss to account for a strong smell in this

• On this point, Mr. Barrow observes," Lieutenant Kotzebue called them mammoth's teeth; but from a drawing made by the naturalist, they were evidently the teeth of elephants: which is the more extraordinary, as being the first remains of this quadruped found in the New World."

neighbourhood, resembling that of burnt horn. The stratum of these hills, on which, to a certain height, the richest grass is only half a foot thick, consists of a mixture of clay, sand, and mould; from beneath this layer the ice gradually thaws away, while the former continues to nourish vegetation; and thus, after a series of years, the hill will have vanished, and a green valley will flourish where it now stands."

This mountain was the only appearance of ice, either on land or water, in this part of America. The weather was clear, and even warm, while, by a strange contrast, the Asiatic shore was enveloped in fogs, and pinched by cold. On the American side, the sea was open as far as the eye could reach; on the Asiatic, it was hermetically closed by masses of ice. It seemed indeed as if the narrow strait of Behring were the line of division between winter and summer.

It is to be regretted that lieutenant Kotzebue was prevented from proceeding in the career which he had so happily commenced. In the ensuing summer, after having called at the Sandwich islands, he had retraced as far as the Aleutian islands his course towards the Polar sea, when his breast bone was unfortunately broken, and he was reluctantly compelled to return to Europe to save his life.

Since that period, two vessels have been sent out on a voyage of discovery by the Russian government. One of these was employed on the northern coast of Asia. The other, commanded by captain Vasillieff, succeeded in doubling Icy cape on the American coast, and advancing to a higher latitude than captain Cook had done. After having pene trated thirty miles beyond Icy cape, he found the current setting so strong to the east north east, that though the sea was perfectly open, he thought it

would be imprudent, if not dangerous, to continue his course, as he doubted if he should be able to return against the current, and had not the means of wintering on the American coast.

This invariable flow of the waters from Behring's straits towards Baffin's bay, is considered by most persons, and especially by the intelligent and enterprizing traveller, captain Cochrane, as a powerful argument in favour of making from the east, instead of from the west, all future attempts to navigate the Polar seas along the coast of America; and it must be owned that their opinion seems to rest upon the solid foundation of common sense.

TO BE RESUMED.

LORD BYRON.

WHEN I reflect upon the splendid justice which has been done to the character of our lamented poet by many writers, and particularly when I consider how brilliantly the pens of Campbell and Scott have been exercised on this mournful subject, I am tempted to throw down mine in despair. But love impels me on, and though unable to say any thing good or new, still I must speak. Of one qualification I feel myself possessed---intense affection for my theme: and though the early youthful fervour of my poetic fancy has long passed away, the name of Byron must ever possess the same power over my heart as the recollection of a beloved mistress. I remember when there was scarcely any pleasure equal to that I found in the anticipation of a new production from his fertile pen, and when the reading of those works had an almost electrical effect upon me. I read them as I walked, I pored over them in seclusion, I dreamt of NO. 2. N. S.

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them when I slept, and I arose in the morning with quotations from them on my lips. I lived in a world of Byron's creation, and the real world I inhabited was to me as nothing. It would be a temporary revival of this delightful dream, "could I imbosom and embody" now all I then felt and imagined. When the third canto of Childe Harold appeared, Lord Byron had not been long abroad, and the excitement occasioned by his separation from Lady Byron was yet at its height. The friends of both parties were regretting, and the enemies of both rejoicing at, this event; gossips of all classes were employed, and the scandal-mongers were never happier. I shall not easily forget the emotion with which I received this third canto. I had been given to understand that there were allusions therein to late events, and this had keenly whetted expectation. It was evening--a winter's evening---I had to take a long walk, and it was utterly impossible to wait till I arrived at my destination before informing myself of the complexion of the new canto. I opened it at the first convenient place, and the words, Ada, sole daughter of my house and heart!" met my eyes. This was sufficient; I had not been misinformed; and I flew forward with my prize. With what deep enjoyment---with what intense feeling did I literally devour this poem! I remember nothing like it, except, (strange to say!) my first perusal of Lady Caroline Lamb's Glenarvon; but, doubtless, I owed the interest which I felt in this work to the knowledge that Lady C. intended Glenarvon as a sort of portrait of Lord Byron. Whether disappointed love instigated this singular lady thus darkly to depict her hero, I know not; but any thing more diabolically fascinating could not be imagined. Whatever were the defects of this work, there were in it decided eloquence and overwhelming passion

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