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splendid vessel, The British Queen. She was built by Messrs. Curling and Young, of Limehouse, for the British and American Steam Navigation Company, and was launched on the birth-day of the Queen, 24th of May, 1838; hence her name. This vessel runs between London and New York, and the following is an accurate description of her dimensions, capacity, and power:-Extreme length from figure-head to tafferel, 275 feet; length of upper deck, 245 feet; length of keel, 223 feet; breadth within paddle-boxes, 40 feet 6 inches; breadth, including paddle-boxes, 64 feet; depth, 27 feet; tonnage, 1,862 tons; power of engines, 500 horses; diameter of cylinders, 711⁄2 inches; length of stroke, 7 feet; diameter of paddle-wheels, 30 feet; estimated weight of engines, boilers, and water, 500 tons; ditto of coals for 20 days' consumption, 600 tons; ditto of cargo, 500 tons; draught of water with the above weight and stores, 16 feet.

The British Queen is said to be the longest ship in the world, the length exceeding, by about thirtyfive feet, that of any ship in the British navy. Her beauty is equal to that of the Great Western; some say far superior; and she has occupied two years in building. The Great Western has four, instead of three masts, and she also possesses the advantage, if such it be, of a poop-deck. The internal arrangements of the British Queen, as to berths and saloon, are of the most costly and chaste description; while her mechanical powers, as to engine and other apparatus, are of the most sub

stantial and perfect workmanship. Messrs Napier and Co., of Glasgow, are the engineers. All her decorations are of English manufacture.

The Great Western was built at Bristol, without any consideration as to cost and labour. As soon as her hull and rigging were completed, she proceeded to London to receive her engines and other steam apparatus. She sails between Bristol and New York. The tonnage of this vessel is 1,340, of which it is computed the gross weight of the apparatus is 490; that of the boilers alone, with the water they contain, being 180, and the pistoncranks 17 tons each. In the space surrounding the engines is stowage room, in iron boxes of very convenient construction, for 800 tons of coal; while her paddle-wheels are not less than 38 feet in diameter, and are moved by a 450 horse power. This statement will convey some idea of the force and rapidity with which she can be propelled through the water; and she has justified the confident expectations of her owners, and of the scientific persons who visited and examined her apparatus, that with fair average weather, she would perform the voyage to New York in about twelve or fourteen days.

This vessel has been inspected by an immense number of the nobility. She is one of the most superb steamers that has ever been launched, and is, without question, one of the finest specimens that ever graced the Atlantic.

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WHAT is it, then, which has wrought so surprising a change in the manners and habits in Europe, of the inhabitants of the great mountain girdle of the earth? What is it which has spread cultivation through wastes deemed, in ancient times, inaccessible to improvement, and humanized the manners of a people, remarkable only, under the Roman sway, for the ferocity and barbarism of

their customs?

What but the influence of religion; of that faith which has calmed the savage passions of the human mind, and spread its beneficial influence amongst the remotest habitations of men, and which prompted its disciples to leave the luxuries and comforts of southern civilization, to diffuse knowledge and humanity through inhospitable realms, and spread, even amidst the regions of desolation, the light of knowledge and the blessings of Christianity. Impressed with these ideas, the traveller, in crossing the St. Bernard, and comparing the perfect safety with which he now

can explore the most solitary parts of these mountains, with the perils of the passage attested by votive offerings, even in the days of Adrian and the Antonines, will think with thankfulness of the religion by which this wonderful change has been effected, and with veneration of the saint whose name has, for a thousand years, been affixed to the pass where his influence first reclaimed the people from their barbarous life: and in crossing the defile of Mount Brenner, where the abbey of Wilten first offered an asylum to the pilgrim, he will feel, with a late amiable and eloquent writer, "how fortunate it is that religion has penetrated these fastnesses, impervious to human power, and, where precautions are impossible and resistance useless, spread her invisible ægis over the traveller, and conducts him secure under her protection, through all the dangers of his way."

When in such situations he reflects upon his security, and recollects that these mountains, so savage and so well adapted to the purposes of murderers and banditti, have not in the memory of man been stained with human blood, he ought to do justice to the cause, and gratefully to acknowledge the influence of religion. Impressed with these ideas, he will behold with indulgence, perhaps even with interest, the crosses which frequently mark the brow of a precipice, and the little chapels hollowed out of the rock, where the road is narrowed; he will consider them as so many pledges of security, and rest assured, that so long as the pious mountaineer continues to adore the

"Good Shepherd," and to implore the prayer of the "Afflicted Mother," he will never cease to befriend the traveller, nor to discharge the duties of hospitality.

ALISON.

LESSON XVIII.

TO MY MOTHER.

AND canst thou, mother! for a moment think
That we, thy children, when old age shall shed
Its blanching honours on thy drooping head,
Could from our best of duties ever shrink?
Sooner the sun from his high sphere should sink,
Than we, ungrateful, leave thee in that day,
To pine in solitude thy life away,

Or shun thee, tottering on the grave's cold brink.
Banish the thought!-where'er our steps may roam,
O'er smiling plains, or wastes without a tree,
Still will fond memory point our hearts to thee,
And paint the pleasures of thy peaceful home,
While duty bids us all thy griefs assuage,
And smooth the pillow of thy sinking age.
H. K. WHITE.

LESSON XIX.

THE FIRE-FLY.

THERE is an insect, that, when evening comes, Small though he be, scarcely distinguishable, Like evening clad in soberest livery,

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