Notes and Queries, Number 35, June 29, 1850 | Page 3

I have in Latin drawn out the places of the Scriptures, and upon the same have noted what I can for the time. Sir, in those matters I am so fearful, that I dare not speak further, yea, almost none otherwise, than the very text doth, as it were, lead me by the hand."--Works of Bishop Ridley, Parker Soc., p. 368.
And to this statement Bishop Coverdale, in the Letters of the Martyrs, Day, 1564, p. 65., caused the following side-note to be printed:--
"He meaneth here the matter of God's election, whereof he afterward wrote a godly and comfortable treatise, remaining yet in the hands of some, and hereafter shall come to light, if God so will."
Glocester Ridley, in his Life of Bishop Ridley, 1763, p. 554, states:--
"I never heard that it was published, nor have I been able to meet with it in MS. The great learning and cool judgment of this prelate, and the entire subjection of his imagination to the revealed will of God, make the loss of this treatise much to be lamented."
Could any of your correspondents offer any suggestion, or supply any information, which might throw light on the subject, or might give a clue to the lost manuscript? The treatise referred to {67} might possibly still exist, and, even if without Ridley's name, or in an imperfect state, might yet be identified, either from the handwriting or some other circumstance. 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.
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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.
"W."
[Footnote 1: Alluding to the ships crossing the barrier of ice in Baffin's Bay, between Hope Sanderson and Possession Bay.]
[Footnote 2: Telegraph signal made by H.M.S. "Hecla," on getting into clear water in July, 1849, having succeeded in forcing through the barrier.]
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FOLK LORE.
Legend of Sir Richard Baker, surnamed Bloody Baker.--I one day was looking over the different monuments in Cranbrook Church in Kent, when in the chancel my attention was arrested by one erected to the memory of Sir Richard Baker. The gauntlet, gloves, helmet, and spurs were (as is often the case in monumental erections of Elizabethan date) suspended over the tomb. What chiefly attracted my attention was the colour of the gloves, which was red. The old woman who acted as my cicerone, seeing me look at them, said, "Aye, miss, those are Bloody Baker's gloves; their red colour comes from the blood he shed." This speech awakened my curiosity to