the “

Annunciator.” This is a circular plates munication between the small steamer and about the size of the face of an eight-day the Atlantic to prevent the gentlemen leav, clock, covered with numbers corresponding ing the latter until the ladies had seated with those of the state-rooms.

Each num

themselves on the former. The appearance ber is concealed by a semicircular plate, of the deck, crowded with ladies only, and which is removed or turned round as soon as a host of gentlemen kept back, some impathe rope is pulled in the state-room with the tient to get down, but the greater part entercorresponding number. A bell is at the ing into the humor of the thing, was quite same time struck to call the attention of the new to English ideas. It is but fair to add stewards, who then replace the plate in its that the ladies did not seem to like it; and former position and attend to the sum- that, when the steamer again came alongmons.

side, it was not repeated. The machinery which propels the ship On the whole, this Atlantic steamer is consists of two engines, each of 500 horse really worthy of the great country from power, the engines of the old line being al- which she has come. If, in shape and general so two in number, but only about 400 horse. I appearance she is inferior to the old vessels, power each. Such cylinders and shafts, and she is decidedly equal, if not superior, to pistons and beams are, I believe, unrivalled them in machinery and fittings. Her powers in the world. There are four boilers, each as regards speed have, of course, yet to be heated by eight furnaces, in two rows of four tried. One

voyage is no test, nor even a each. The consumption of coal is about fifty series of voyages, during the summer months : tons every twenty-four hours ; "and that, she must cross and recross at least for a year said one of the engineers, “is walking before any just comparison can be instituted. pretty fast into a coal-mine, I guess!” Ac- The regular postal communication between cording to the calculations of the very wise Liverpool and the United States will speedily men who predicted the failure of Atlantic be twice every week—the ships of the new steam navigation, such a vessel as the Allan- line sailing on Wednesday, and the old on tic ought to carry 3700 tons of coal; but it Saturday. will be seen that one-fourth of that quantity But other ports besides Liverpool are now is more than enough, even making allowance dispatching steamers regularly to America. for extra stores to provide against accidents. Glasgow sent out a powerful screw steamer In the engine-room is a long box with five —the City of Glasgow, 1087 tons--on 16th compartments, each communicating with a April for New York, where she arrived on wire fastened like a bell-pull to the side of 3d May; thus making the passage in about the paddle-box. These handles are marked seventeen days, in spite of stormy weather respectively—“ ahead," "slow," “fast," and entanglements among ice; the average “ back,” and “ hook-on;" and whenever one time taken by the Liverpool steamers during is pulled, a printed card with the correspond - 1849 being fourteen days. Her return voying signal appears in the box opposite the age, however, made under more favorable engineer, who has to act accordingly. There circumstances, was within this average-is thus no noise of human voices on board the distance being steamed between the 18th this ship : the helmsman steers by his bells, May and the 1st June. A vessel called the the engineer works by the telegraph, and the Viceroy is about to sail from Galway to New steward waits by the annunciator.

York, and her voyage is looked forward to Two traces of national habits struck me with considerable interest. The Washington very much. Even in the finest saloons there and Hermann sail regularly between Bremen are, in places where they would be least ex- and Southampton and New York, and the pected, handsome “spittoons "—the upper British Queen has been put on the passage part fashioned like a shell, and painted a sea- between Hamburg and New York. All these green or sky-blue color--thus giving ample enterprizes seem to indicate that ere long facility for indulging in that practice of spit- the Atlantic carrying trade will be conducted ting, of which Americans are so fond. Again, in steamships, and sailing vessels superseded much amusement was caused by the attempt to as great extent, as has been the case in the of one of the officers in charge of the com- 'coasting trade.

From the New Monthly Magazine.



“Dougal Lindsay was the last Episcopal Minister of Glenorchy. His name is associated also with one of those beautiful legends that attach themselves to every bush and bower, craig or cave, in the Highland Glens, streaming like gossamer threads on the breeze of tradition.” Mr. Lindsay was leaning one evening over the dyke of his churchyard, and saw suddenly two little lights rise from the ground, cross the girth, and road, and river, ascend the hill, and vanish among some cottages; they re-appeared again, accompanied by a third and larger light, and all returned by the same path to the churchyard, and disappeared where they had risen, in the burying-place of the Mac Nichols, of Ardendonich, of whom the last interred were two infant children of a man who, with all his family, was in good health. Not long after, however, the minister was called to attend his sick bed. He died, and was buried beside the children on the spot where the lights had risen and disappeared. Mr. Lindsay had seen the corpse candles.—Lives of the Lindsays, vol. ii., p. 173. Note.

WITHOUT sign or sound, from the chilly ground

They rise o'er the white mist's waves--
Those lights had birth in the deeps of earth,

They Ait from two little graves.
A child lay lone, in each bed of stone,

Through many a silent year,
Till a mystic beam, with sudden gleam,

Lit their dark and narrow bier ;
And the infants' woke at the kindling stroke,

And passed with lamps alight;
For a summons dread from the kindred dead

To the Quick went forth that night!

O’er brake and briar the beatless fire,

And its unseen bearers go!
Oh! mark the way of that pallid ray,

"Tis the path of coming woe!
The murmur hushes in the nodding rushes,

As the little spirits pass ;
The owls look out, with startled shout,

And the moles slink 'neath the grass ;
When the moon shines bright we lose the light,

But with steady pace it goes,
Through the wild cat’s lair, by the frightened hare,

Where the poisonous hemlock grows-
Where hang o'erhead the berries red,

And the nightshade's purple fiowers ;
And fungi rank grow dark and dank,

In their moist and mouldy bowers

Where the arum rears its fætid spears,

And a corpse-like odor pours;
O’er the mossy grass of the green morass,

And the high and heathery moors.

The ivory cup was folded up

Of the water-lily white,
Unscorch'd its hue, yet those flames of blue

O'er its petals pass'd that night!
The errant beams, o'er the running streams,

Flit swift from brink to brink ;
And I saw beneath the waters seethe,

And before the wan fire shrink.
Those little lamps, by the gipsy camps,

In the village lane have past;
Before one door, their wanderings o'er,

They pause awhile at last.
The scent of flowers through the midnight hours

Intensely sweet had been,
The mignonette and the red stock met,

By the woodbine's bower of green.
Up the branches light of the clematis white

The ghostly lustre crept ;
The tendrils quiver'd, the blossoms shiver'd,

And a shower of dewdrops wept-
Through the arbeil trees the trembling breeze

In mournful numbers sighed,
While the corpse-lights stole, they had found their goal,

Through a lattice opened wide.

They shone again—though the summer rain

On the live leaves pattered fast,
With a stronger blaze o'er the flow'ry maze

of the trellis down they past.
For between the two wan beams of blue,

Was a Third and larger light;
With a funeral's pace to the burial-place

They glided through the night.

On that day week, in sorrow meek,

Went a widow gathering rue,
And the fragrant spray of the rosemary,

And the lavender darkly blue :
And a new grave rose ere evenings close,

Beneath the churchyard sod;
And the sire was laid in the yew-tree's shade,

Where his Infants sleep in God.

From the Galloway Courier.


“Passing from the political phase of these thing, his is the heroic eye, but of a hero productions (the · Latter-Day Pamphlets,') | who has done hard battle against Paynim which is not my vocation to discuss, I found hosts. This is no dream of mine-I have for myself one very peculiar charm in the often heard this peculiarity remarked. The perusal of them—they seemed such perfect whole form and expression of the face remind transcripts of the conversation of Thomas me of Dante—it wants the classic element, Carlyle. With something more of set con- and the mature and matchless harmony which tinuity-of composition—but essentially the distinguish the countenance of the great same thing, the Latter-Day Pamphlets,' Florentine ; but something in the cast and in are, in their own way, a ‘Boswell's Life' of the look, especially the heavy-laden but Carlyle. As I read and read, I was gradu- dauntless eye, is very much alike. But he ally transported from my club-room, with its speaks to me. The tongue has the sough of newspaper-clad tables, nd my dozing fellow- Annandale—an echo of the Solway with its loungers, only kept half awake by periodical compliments to old Father Thames. A keen, titillations of snuff, and carried in spirit to sharp, ringing voice, in the genuine Border the grave and quiet sanctum in Chelsea, key, but tranquil and sedate withal-neighwhere Carlyle dispenses wisdom and hospita- borly and frank, and always in unison with lity with equally unstinted hand. The long, what is uttered. Thus does the presence of tall

, spare figure is before me-wiry though, Thomas Carlyle rise before me—a "true and elastic, and quite capable of taking a man' in all his bearings and in all his sayings. long tough spell through the moors or Eccle. And in this same guise do I seem to hear fechan, or elsewhere-stretched at careless, from him all those Latter-Day Pamphlets.' homely ease in his elbow chair, yet ever Even such in his conversation—he sees the with strong natural motions and starts, as very thing he speaks of; it breathes and the inward spirit stirs. The face, too, is be- moves palpable to him, and hence his words fore me-long and thin, with a certain tinge form a picture. When you come from him, of paleness, but no sickness or attenuation, the impression is like having seen a great firm, muscular, and vigorously marked, and brilliant panorama ; everything had been not wanting some glow of former rustic made visible and naked to your sight. But color-pensive, almost solemn, yet open and more and better far than that; you bear cordial, and tender, very tender. The eye, home with you an indelible feeling of love as generally happens, is the chief outward for the man--deep at the heart, long as life. index of the soul —an eye is not easy to de. No man has ever inspired more of this perscribe, but selt ever after one has looked sonal affection. Not to love Carlyle when thereon and therein. It is dark and full, you know him is something unnatural, as if shadowed over by a compact, prominent one should say they did not love the breeze forehead. But the depth, the expression, that fans their cheek, or the vine tree which the far inner play of it-who could transfer has refreshed them both with its leafy shade that even to the eloquent canvas, far less 'to and its exuberant juices. He abounds himthis very in-eloquent paper ? It is not self in love and in good works. He abounds, brightness, it is not flash, it is not power himself, in love and in good works. His life, even--something beyond all these. The ex- not only as a 'writer of books,' but as a man pression is, so to speak, heavy-laden-as if among his fellows, has been a continued betokening untold burdens of thought, and shower of benefits. The young men, more long, long fiery struggles, resolutely endured especially, to whom he has been the Good -endured until they had been in some prac- Samaritan, pouring oil upon their wounds, tical manner overcome : to adopt his own and binding up their bruised limbs, and putfond epithet, and it comes nearest to the ting them on the way of recovery of health and useful energy—the number of such | Explosions are ever wasteful, woeful; central can scarcely be told, and will never be fire should not explode itself, but lie silent, known till the great day of accounts. One | far down at the center; and make all good of these, who in his orisons will ever remem- fruits grow! We cannot too often repeat to ber him, has just read to me, with tears of ourselves, 'Strength is seen, not in spasms, grateful attachment in his eyes, portions of a but in stout bearing of burdens.' You can letter of counsel and encouragement which take comfort, in the mean while, if


need he received from him in the hour of dark- | it, by the experience of all wise men, that a ness, and which was the prelude to a thou right heavy burden is precisely the thing sand acts of substantial kindness and of wanted for a young strong man. Grievous graceful attention. As the letter contains to be borne; but bear it well, you will find it no secret, and may fall as a fructifying seed one day to have been verily blessed. 'I would into some youthful bosom that may be enter- not for any money,' says the brave Jean ing upon its trials and struggles, a quotation Paul, in this quaint way, ‘I would not for from it will form an appropriate finale at this any money have had money in my youth!' time. He thus writes := It will be good He speaks a truth there, singular as it may news, in all times coming, to learn that such


years a life as yours unfolds itself according to its ought to be incessanly employed in gaining promise, and becomes in some tolerably de- knowledge of things worth knowing, espegree what it is capable of being. The prob- cially of heroic human souls worth knowing. lem is your own, to make or to mar;—a And you may believe me, the obscurer such great problem for you, as the like is for every years are it is apt to be the better. Books man born into this world. You have my are needful; but yet not many books; a few entire sympathy in your denunciation of the well read. An open, true, patient, and val'explosive character. It is frequent in these iant soul is needed; that is the one thing times, and deplorable wherever met with. I needful.””

seem to


The whole race of Underground People,, with them. They marry, moreover, and are the dwarfs excepted, live chiefly by grazing given in marriage, and celebrate their wedcattle. When the sheilings are deserted by dings in high style, especially if the bride their human brethren at harvest-time, they happens to have been abducted from the move into them. Whole troops of these earthếa little peccadillo to which they are little gray men may often be seen at night- much inclined. On these occasions they intime employed in their pastoral avocations, vite their friends to the bridal, which always driving before tiem numerous herds of cat- takes place upon a Thursday, and about the tle, while the females of the race carry milk- hour of midnight, when they set out for pails upon their heads, and children in their church with mirth and music. We are told arms. To assist them in guarding their flocks, how a peasant from the west once fell in with they have black dogs, which in Telemak are a procession of this kind, and, but for his called Huddebikiar-that is, cattle-keepers. prudence, had, like Tom of Coventry, paid They live, moreover, in much splendor with dearly for his peeping ; for the deceitful in the hills and mountain-tops, having fine bride took the wreath from her lead, and houses, rick furniture, vessels, and other ar- held it out to him with a smile that it was no ticles of silver, and, what seems strangest of easy matter to resist. Fortunately for him his all, they possess churches. In almost every fears were to much for his passion, and he point they resemble mankind; they are ex- thus escaped being carried off by the elves, ceedingly social amongst each other, and which would infallibly have been the case had hold good living in very Christian-like esti- he yielded to the temptation.-St. James' mation. Yule-lide is a time of high festival' Magazine.

« VorigeDoorgaan »