come and re-unite the parts of the body, and replace it in the grave.— P. 171.

In visiting a whole city, as in a time of pestilence, the Angel walks straight forward in the middle of the street, amid the howlings of dogs, and lays down his arms in the Synagogue. Hence all wise men are exhorted to keep the footpath in such seasons, and go not into the Synagogue alone. The Mohammedan fabulists differ little from the Jewish, except that they make "the enquirers," Moncar and Nacir, belabour the ears of the corpse, whose late occupier believed not in the Prophet, with iron hammers, instead of the Rabbi Jehosua's hot and cold chain. It is comfortable, however, to know that the good of both creeds are spared these tortures, and suffered to rest in peace.

But enough of this unprofitable matter. Perhaps some of our readers may ask impatiently—Is a review of Angelic properties of no use but to gratify a vain curiosity after foolish opinions, that have long since been buried, as they deserved to be, in oblivion ?-or, Are the Messengers of Heaven to be brought down from their high estate, merely to grace the fictions of an enthusiastic imagination? This last question makes the humble individual who writes this paper confess, that he does often contemplate the Angels in a poetical view. Often, as he lies stretched on the sunny hill, with nought above him save their own blue habitations, and listens to the lark as he carols joyously at the gate of Heaven, his imagination will arise to meet those liquid notes of praise and joy, which celestial choristers pour forth in the full tide of harmony before the throne of their Creator. Often, as his greyhounds, his constant companions, start from his feet, and chase each other in playful circles, exhibiting all the graces of speed

and agility, he thinks of those imaginary winged guardians, which old Abraham Avenzora has liberally granted even to the beasts that perish. Nay, he cannot see a blossom dancing in the summer breeze, but his fancy paints thereon the delicate buoyant form of some minutest Angel, who lifts his glittering vase, and makes the cup of the humblest wild-flower overflow with sweetness. It is singular that two of the most distinguished poets of the present day should each found a poem, purely poetical, upon the same well-known text of Scripture, "The sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were fair, and they took them wives of all which they chose." And it is amusing to compare the different conceptions of an aërial lover, which each poet has presented; the human passion of Mr. Moore's Angels,—and the gloomy grandeur of Lord Byron's Seraphim.

But it is not the imagination, it is the heart of man that the study of angelic beings most affects. It is surely a profitable, it is a christian occupation, to collect what is revealed concerning a blessed race, with which the christian that shall be found worthy of his profession is destined to associate for ever in the world to come.

In all times and in all churches, in spite of traditional absurdities, men of sound minds have considered that God's Holy Angels do exist; do exert themselves for our benefit; and claim a return of affection, and obedience. "What though I see them not"-exclaims the pious and learned Bishop Hall—" I believe them. I were no christian, if my faith were not as sure as sense.' And again. "Next to my God and my Saviour, I shall ever place my greatest comfort and confidence in the Angels of God."

The consent of all antiquity, supported by the implied sanction of our Saviour, has allotted to every man from

the earliest period of his existence, while he is yet in his mother's womb, a peculiar and personal friend and guardian from the innumerable host of heaven. Unless a man actually drives this protector away by impure and impenitent behaviour, there is every reason to believe that he continues with him to the end; continually defending him from the assaults of the devil, and the corruption of human nature; putting aside a thousand secret dangers; comforting him under all his sorrows and vexations; leading him to a thousand opportunities of doing good; in short, watching about his path, and about his bed, and teaching him imperceptibly those qualities which may render him meet to partake of a heavenly inheritance. But, to use the words of the author before us, and with which we shall conclude this paper,

Angels care for us to the last, and show us most love, when we most need it, viz. on our death beds. They comfort the good, and shed a composure over the departing spirit which has often astonished lookers on; and they keep off evil spirits, whose business at such a time is to terrify, and restrain from repentance. Many holy martyrs both of ancient and modern times, have declared that angels stood by and relieved their sufferings. I doubt not, that all experienced visitants of the sick and dying, have seen beds of death turned to beds of rapture; none of these will deny that beings of another world may have sung a requiem to the fainting soul, unheard by all besides; some perhaps may have caught the half-uttered name of Angel, in the last faint expressions of the dying Saint.-P. 172. When the soul is at length released from the burthen of the flesh, Angels conduct it to Paradise. Whether they hold communion with it in its disembodied state is not recorded. But it is revealed in Scripture, that they shall all attend the Lord Jesus, at his second coming to judge the world; shall witness his justice and mercy, and his final triumph over sin and the devil; shall execute the sentence of wrath upon the wicked, but gather the elect together, and usher them, with unspeakable joy and triumphant love, into their own eternal heavens, into the presence of their common Maker and Preserver.-P. 174.

188

Narrative of a Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea, in the years 1819, 20, 21, and 22. By JOHN FRANKLIN, Captain R.N., F.R.S., and Commander of the Expedition. With an APPENDIX on various subjects relating to Science and Natural History. Illustrated by numerous Plates and Maps. Published by Authority of the Right Hon. The Earl Bathurst. 1 vol. 4to. London, Murray. 1823.

It is impossible to rise from reading this volume, without being impressed with the highest respect (almost amounting, we might say, to veneration) for the character of Captain Franklin, and of all the officers composing the expedition. Their courage, their fortitude, their endurance, under circumstances almost unparalleled in the history of human suffering-their neglect and denial of self-their beautiful sympathy and anxiety for each other-all combine to the highest honour of the individuals, to the credit of our national character, and even of human nature itself.

We had not conceived it possible for men to survive such privations, aggravated as they were by severe, and almost unremitting, toil. From the time they quitted the sea, at the end of August, to the 7th of November, they existed, with very slight, and latterly no exception, on pounded bones, old leather, and a weed called tripe de roche, which seems almost to have contributed more to the attenuation than the sustenance of the body;and for two months of this period they suffered under fatigue and exposure which would, it might be thought, have, of themselves, been almost too much for men of the strongest frames, supported by the amplest nourishment.

During the whole of this terrible journey, so far from there being any of those displays of selfishness into which intense suffering so frequently hardens naturally kind dispositions, the only slight ebullitions of that peevishness which at last excess of weakness brought on, were occasioned by contests of which should do and suffer the most. Above all, that horrible resource to which men in such extremities have been so frequently driven, never once seems to have occurred to their minds. "The longings of the cannibal" never did "arise"they never

And who should die to be his fellow's food." Even when some of the Canadian voyagers were left behind, from exhaustion, to almost certain destruction— nay, when some of them actually died,-the dreadful benefit they might have been to them seems never to have been thought of. They awaited death calmly. The Canadians themselves, selfish and even brutal as they were in many instances, seem never to have hinted at or devised any thing of the kind. One horrible exception to this is believed to have occurred, but we shall advert to the circumstances of that tragic story in its place.

But we are beginning at the end;-for the deep and terrible interest of the latter occurrences engrosses the mind, to the exclusion of what has gone before. We must, however, recur to the commencement, and shall lay before our readers a précis of the very voluminous Narrative of this extraordinary Expedition. The Narrative is, indeed, too voluminous, as is every book of the kind we ever met with. The minuteness of a daily detail is advantageous, and even necessary, in the official record of proceedings of this nature; but they ought,