the "Annunciator." This is a circular plate about the size of the face of an eight-day clock, covered with numbers corresponding with those of the state-rooms. Each number is concealed by a semicircular plate, which is removed or turned round as soon as the rope is pulled in the state-room with the corresponding number. A bell is at the same time struck to call the attention of the stewards, who then replace the plate in its former position and attend to the sum mons. The machinery which propels the ship consists of two engines, each of 500 horsepower, the engines of the old line being also two in number, but only about 400 horsepower each. Such cylinders and shafts, and pistons and beams are, I believe, unrivalled in the world. There are four boilers, each heated by eight furnaces, in two rows of four each. The consumption of coal is about fifty tons every twenty-four hours; "and that,' said one of the engineers, "is walking pretty fast into a coal-mine, I guess!" According to the calculations of the very wise men who predicted the failure of Atlantic steam navigation, such a vessel as the Atlantic ought to carry 3700 tons of coal; but it will be seen that one-fourth of that quantity is more than enough, even making allowance for extra stores to provide against accidents. In the engine-room is a long box with five compartments, each communicating with a wire fastened like a bell-pull to the side of the paddle-box. These handles are marked respectively" ahead," "slow," fast," back," and "hook-on;" and whenever one is pulled, a printed card with the corresponding signal appears in the box opposite the engineer, who has to act accordingly. There is thus no noise of human voices on board this ship the helmsman steers by his bells, the engineer works by the telegraph, and the steward waits by the annunciator. Two traces of national habits struck me very much. Even in the finest saloons there are, in places where they would be least expected, handsome "spittoons"-the upper part fashioned like a shell, and painted a seagreen or sky-blue color--thus giving ample facility for indulging in that practice of spitting, of which Americans are so fond. Again, much amusement was caused by the attempt of one of the officers in charge of the com munication between the small steamer a the Atlantic to prevent the gentlemen lea ing the latter until the ladies had seat themselves on the former. The appearan of the deck, crowded with ladies only, a a host of gentlemen kept back, some imp tient to get down, but the greater part ent ing into the humor of the thing, was qu new to English ideas. It is but fair to a that the ladies did not seem to like it; a that, when the steamer again came alon side, it was not repeated. On the whole, this Atlantic steamer really worthy of the great country fro which she has come. If, in shape and gener appearance she is inferior to the old vesse she is decidedly equal, if not superior, them in machinery and fittings. Her powe as regards speed have, of course, yet to b tried. One voyage is no test, nor even series of voyages, during the summer month she must cross and recross at least for a yea before any just comparison can be institute The regular postal communication betwee Liverpool and the United States will speedi be twice every week-the ships of the ne line sailing on Wednesday, and the old o Saturday. But other ports besides Liverpool are no dispatching steamers regularly to America Glasgow sent out a powerful screw steame -the City of Glasgow, 1087 tons-on 16t April for New York, where she arrived of 3d May; thus making the passage in abou seventeen days, in spite of stormy weathe and entanglements among ice; the averag time taken by the Liverpool steamers during 1849 being fourteen days. Her return voy age, however, made under more favorabl circumstances, was within this average-the distance being steamed between the 18t May and the 1st June. A vessel called the Viceroy is about to sail from Galway to New York, and her voyage is looked forward to with considerable interest. The Washington and Hermann sail regularly between Bremer and Southampton and New York, and the British Queen has been put on the passage between Hamburg and New York. All these enterprizes seem to indicate that ere long the Atlantic carrying trade will be conducted in steamships, and sailing vessels superseded to as great extent, as has been the case in the coasting trade. From the New Monthly Magazine. THE CORPSE CANDLES. BY MRS. ACTON TINDAL. Pougal Lindsay was the last Episcopal Minister of Glenorchy. His name is associated with one of those beautiful legends that attach themselves to every bush and bower, or cave, in the Highland Glens, streaming like gossamer threads on the breeze of on." Mr. Lindsay was leaning one evening over the dyke of his churchyard, and saw nly two little lights rise from the ground, cross the girth, and road, and river, ascend 11, and vanish among some cottages; they re-appeared again, accompanied by a third arger light, and all returned by the same path to the churchyard, and disappeared they had risen, in the burying-place of the Mac Nichols, of Ardendonich, of whom the terred were two infant children of a man who, with all his family, was in good health. ong after, however, the minister was called to attend his sick bed. He died, and was 1 beside the children on the spot where the lights had risen and disappeared. Mr. ay had seen the corpse candles.-Lives of the Lindsays, vol. ii., p. 173. Note. WITHOUT sign or sound, from the chilly ground A child lay lone, in each bed of stone, 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 heatless fire, Oh! mark the way of that pallid ray, 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, THE CORPSE CANDLES. Where the arum rears its fœtid spears, O'er the mossy grass of the green morass, The ivory cup was folded up Unscorch'd its hue, yet those flames of blue The errant beams, o'er the running streams, And I saw beneath the waters seethe, Before one door, their wanderings o'er, The scent of flowers through the midnight hours 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, Through the arbeil trees the trembling breeze In mournful numbers sighed, While the corpse-lights stole, they had found their goal, They shone again-though the summer rain With a stronger blaze o'er the flow'ry maze For between the two wan beams of blue, With a funeral's pace to the burial-place On that day week, in sorrow meek, And the fragrant spray of the rosemary, And a new grave rose ere evenings close, Beneath the churchyard sod; And the sire was laid in the yew-tree's shade, From the Galloway Courier. MEMORANDA ABOUT THOMAS CARLYLE. sing from the political phase of these ions (the Latter-Day Pamphlets,') s not my vocation to discuss, I found self one very peculiar charm in the of them-they seemed such perfect ots of the conversation of Thomas thing, his is the heroic eye, but of a hero who has done hard battle against Paynim hosts. This is no dream of mine-I have often heard this peculiarity remarked. The whole form and expression of the face remind me of Dante-it wants the classic element, With something more of set con- and the mature and matchless harmony which -of composition-but essentially the distinguish the countenance of the great ning, the Latter-Day Pamphlets,' Florentine; but something in the cast and in their own way, a 'Boswell's Life' of the look, especially the heavy-laden but As I read and read, I was gradu- dauntless eye, is very much alike. But he sported from my club-room, with its speaks to me. The tongue has the sough of per-clad tables, nd my dozing fellow- Annandale-an echo of the Solway with its , only kept half awake by periodical compliments to old Father Thames. A keen, as of snuff, and carried in spirit to sharp, ringing voice, in the genuine Border ve and quiet sanctum in Chelsea, key, but tranquil and sedate withal-neighCarlyle dispenses wisdom and hospita- borly and frank, and always in unison with equally unstinted hand. The long, what is uttered. Thus does the presence of re figure is before me-wiry though, Thomas Carlyle rise before me-a true stic, and quite capable of taking a man' in all his bearings and in all his sayings. gh spell through the moors or Eccle- And in this same guise do I seem to hear or elsewhere-stretched at careless, from him all those Latter-Day Pamphlets.' ease in his elbow chair, yet ever Even such in his conversation-he sees the ong natural motions and starts, as very thing he speaks of; it breathes and rd spirit stirs. The face, too, is be- moves palpable to him, and hence his words -long and thin, with a certain tinge form a picture. When you come from him, ess, but no sickness or attenuation, the impression is like having seen a great ascular, and vigorously marked, and brilliant panorama; everything had been ating some glow of former rustic made visible and naked to your sight. But pensive, almost solemn, yet open and more and better far than that; you bear and tender, very tender. The eye, home with you an indelible feeling of love rally happens, is the chief outward for the man-deep at the heart, long as life. the soul-an eye is not easy to de- No man has ever inspired more of this perout felt ever after one has looked sona! affection. Not to love Carlyle when and therein. It is dark and full, you know him is something unnatural, as if ed over by a compact, prominent one should say they did not love the breeze 1. But the depth, the expression, that fans their cheek, or the vine tree which nner play of it--who could transfer has refreshed them both with its leafy shade n to the eloquent canvas, far less to and its exuberant juices. He abounds himry in-eloquent paper? It is not self in love and in good works. He abounds, ess, it is not flash, it is not power himself, in love and in good works. His life, omething beyond all these. The ex- not only as a writer of books,' but as a man is, so to speak, heavy-laden—as if among his fellows, has been a continued ng untold burdens of thought, and shower of benefits. The young men, more ig fiery struggles, resolutely endured especially, to whom he has been the Good ed until they had been in some prac-Samaritan, pouring oil upon their wounds, nd useful energy-the number of such an scarcely be told, and will never be nown till the great day of accounts. One f these, who in his orisons will ever rememer him, has just read to me, with tears of -rateful attachment in his eyes, portions of a etter of counsel and encouragement which Le received from him in the hour of darkess, and which was the prelude to a thouand acts of substantial kindness and of raceful attention. As the letter contains o secret, and may fall as a fructifying seed to some youthful bosom that may be enterng upon its trials and struggles, a quotation rom it will form an appropriate finale at this me. He thus writes:It will be good ews, in all times coming, to learn that such life as yours unfolds itself according to its romise, and becomes in some tolerably deree what it is capable of being. The probem is your own, to make or to mar;-a reat problem for you, as the like is for every han born into this world. You have my ntire sympathy in your denunciation of the explosive character.' It is frequent in these mes, and deplorable wherever met with. Explosions are ever wasteful, woeful; central fire should not explode itself, but lie silent, far down at the center; and make all good fruits grow! We cannot too often repeat to ourselves, 'Strength is seen, not in spasms, but in stout bearing of burdens.' You can take comfort, in the mean while, if you need it, by the experience of all wise men, that a right heavy burden is precisely the thing wanted for a young strong man. Grievous to be borne; but bear it well, you will find it one day to have been verily blessed. 'I would not for any money,' says the brave Jean Paul, in this quaint way, 'I would not for any money have had money in my youth!' He speaks a truth there, singular as it may seem to many. These young obscure years ought to be incessanly employed in gaining knowledge of things worth knowing, especially of heroic human souls worth knowing. And you may believe me, the obscurer such years are it is apt to be the better. Books are needful; but yet not many books; a few well read. An open, true, patient, and valiant soul is needed; that is the one thing needful.'" SCANDINAVIAN SUPERSTITIONS. THE whole race of Underground People, he dwarfs excepted, live chiefly by grazing attle. When the sheilings are deserted by heir human brethren at harvest-time, they nove into them. Whole troops of these ttle gray men may often be seen at nightime employed in their pastoral avocations, riving before them numerous herds of catle, while the females of the race carry milkails upon their heads, and children in their rms. To assist them in guarding their flocks, hey have black dogs, which in Telemak are alled Huddebikiar-that is, cattle-keepers. They live, moreover, in much splendor withn the hills and mountain-tops, having fine houses, rick furniture, vessels, and other aricles of silver, and, what seems strangest of ll, they possess churches. In almost every point they resemble mankind; they are exceedingly social amongst each other, and ad living in Christian like esti with them. They marry, moreover, and are given in marriage, and celebrate their weddings in high style, especially if the bride happens to have been abducted from the earth-a little peccadillo to which they are much inclined. On these occasions they invite their friends to the bridal, which always takes place upon a Thursday, and about the hour of midnight, when they set out for church with mirth and music. We are told how a peasant from the west once fell in with a procession of this kind, and, but for his prudence, had, like Tom of Coventry, paid dearly for his peeping; for the deceitful bride took the wreath from her head, and held it out to him with a smile that it was no easy matter to resist. Fortunately for him his fears were to much for his passion, and he thus escaped being carried off by the elves, which would infallibly have been the case had he wielded to the temptation. James |