duced him to give up the attempt. The country, instead of inviting research, presented an aspect inexpressibly horrid. The land was buried in everlasting snow and ice, where the warmth of the solar rays was never felt; the coast had no sandy beach, or place of safe anchorage, but was faced with frowning perpendicular ice-cliffs, which it was dangerous to approach; a danger that was much increased by dense fogs, squally winds, and heavy snow showers. "The ports which may be on the coast, are in a manner wholly filled up with frozen snow of vast thickness; but if any should be so far open as to invite a ship into it, she would run a risk of being fixed there for ever, or of coming out in an ice island." He justly adds, "It would have been rashness in me, to have risked all that had been done during the voyage, in discovering and exploring a coast, which, when discovered and explored, would have answered no end whatever, or have been of the least use, either to navigation or geography, or indeed to any other science." Besides, the worn-out condition of the sails and rigging of the ship, the decayed state of the provisions on board, and above all, the long continued hardships and privations of the brave men under his command, forbade him to persevere in such hazardous and fruitless researches. On this subject, the following passage in his journal does equal credit to his own humane feelings, and to the conduct of his officers and crew. "My people, indeed, were yet healthy, and would have cheerfully gone wherever I had thought proper to lead them; but I dreaded the scurvy laying hold of them, at a time when we had nothing left to remove it. I must say, further, that it would have
