CONTENTS OF THE TWENTY-FIFTH VOLUME. JUNE, 1844, TO JANUARY, 1845. American Artists in Florence. By J. T. HEADLY, 181 | The Flower and Gem. Or the Choice of Grace Life and Character of the Late King of Sweden. Murad the Wise. By J. K. PAULDING, My Journal of Flowers. By ANN S. STEPHENS, 280 Our Contributors.-No. XIII. James Fenimore Our Contributors.-No. XIV. J. R. Chandler. Gordon. By Mrs. F. S. OSGOOD, LEY, 63 35 97 The Fate of the Humming Bird. Or the Buffalo Hunt. By CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN, Thoughts Before a Duel. By E. HELFENSTEIN, 110 The Chevalier De Sataniski. By J. L. MOT- The Dream of a Life. By EMMA C. EMBURY, 117 The Battle-Grounds of America. No. III.- Yorktown. By EDWARD S. DUNDAS, The Soul Awakened. Or Which Shall Win The Recruiting Captain. An Incident of 1776. The Pic-Nic. A Story of the Wissahickon. By 249 Our Contributors-No. XV. Mrs. Ann S. Ste- 234 Our Contributors-No. XVI. Rev. Walter Col- The Little Lost Shoe: Or Fielding in Search of 287 41 Washington and Napoleon. By JAMES K. 60 White Cloud. Or the Frontier Village. By 123 Poor Genevieve. By J. K. PAULDING, Public Amusements in England, France, Ger- many and Italy, and Their Influence on the Braying. By GNOMAN, 161 226 The Age of Pericles. By GEO. W. BETHUNE, 10, 68 The Widower. Or the First and Second Wife. Belshazzar's Feast. By P. HAMILTON MYERS, Hesperus. By T. B. READ, The Bankrupt's Daughters. A Tale of New 54 Job's Comforter. By GNOMAN, Jael and Sisera. By H. W. HErbert, Life's Evening. By THOMAS M'KELLAR, Midsummer Night. By E. W. CLARK, 15 16 The Poems and Ballads of Schiller. Translated 89 Ode to the Departed. By MARIA DEL OCCI 233 279 84 101 Stanzas Suggested by a Portrait. By G. HILL, A Lecture on the Late Improvements in Steam 262 9 25 40 72 The Indian Lovers. A Legend of the Susquehanna. By E. H. VAN BENSCHOTEN, The Nameless Bard. By J. B. TAYLOR, The Young Poetess, The Two Spirits. By ALICE HERVEY, To the Sea Breeze. By H. T. TUCKERMAN, The Seat of the Soul. By A NEW CONTRIBUTOR, The Bereaved. By AMELIA, The Death of Samson. By H. W. HERBERT, The Wolf and the Lamb, To Lucy During Her Absence. By AMELIA, The Stockbridge Bowl. By Mrs. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, The Old Man in Autumn. By "ZOE," 104 112 121 121 140 151 154 175 202 The Paradise of Tears. From the German of The Camp in the Forest. By ALFRED B. STREET, 208 209 STEEL ENGRAVINGS. LINE AND MEZZOTINT. Germantown Battle, engraved by RAWDON, Wright & HATCH. Cave In Rock-On the Ohio, engraved by SMILLIE & HINSHELWOOD. Flowers and Lace, engraved by F. QUARRE. The Young Poetess, engraved by RAWDON, WRIGHT Georgia Female College, engraved by SMILLIE. The Wolf and the Lamb, engraved by GIMBREDE. 236 A Pic-Nic on the Wissahickon, engraved by RAWDON, WRIGHT & HATCH. To the Nightingale. By CHARLES ALLAN, . The Knight of Toggenburg. By the Translator of "William Tell," etc. To Miss C. T. A. By Rev. WALTER COLTON, The Peacock. By Mrs. B. F. THOMAS, The Maid of the Morning. By T. B. READ, SHORTLY after the conclusion of the late war, a gentleman, distinguished as a scholar, a wit, and a politician, who stood high in the walks of literature, and had risen to the most dignified offices by his talents and worth, was proceeding up the Mississippi in one of the first steamboats that ever plied on the bosom of that mighty stream. He was a self-made and selfsustained man, somewhat past the period of blooming youth; but his person was striking, his countenance highly intellectual, his manners polished by intimate intercourse with society, his voice exceedingly melodious, and his eye capable of discoursing most eloquent muisc. During the course of the voyage, which was not in the most favorable season of the year, he became gradually indisposed, and finally so ill that, at his own request, he was put on shore at one of those little old French villages, between the mouth of the Ohio and St. Louis, whose size bears no proportion to their age, and whose growth is so slow that, like the current of a stagnant stream, it is next to impossible to tell whether they are advancing backward or forward. The agitation of removal, and the heat of a summer day, so aggravated his disease, which was a bilious fever, that he became partially, delirious, and, being without a servant, might have fared but indifferently, a stranger in a strange place, had not an elderly lady, who happened to be looking out at a neighboring window, been charitable enough to have him conducted, or rather carried, to her house. Here he was placed in bed, and immediately attended by a physician, who administered to him so successfully, that the next morning his delirium had subsided into one of those low desperate fevers so harassing to the constitution, so difficult to cure. His returning consciousness disclosed to him the form of one of those ministering angels called woman, sitting at his bedside, as if awaiting an opportunity to present his medicine, or perform some kind office. The sick traveler at first took it for a vagary of his 1 brain, but, after rubbing his eyes and gazing awhile, recognized a female, with a cap such as French attendants generally wear, a p'ain gown, and a black silk apron, with a sweet, gentle, and expressive face, apparently bearing the impression of deep solicitude. Perceiving him to be awake, she inquired, in a voice of exquisite melody, if he wanted any thing. Instead of answering the question, the sick man, whom I shall call Hartland, though that was not his real name, asked two or three others, in a low, feeble tone. "Where am I-and who are you?" "You are in St. and I am poor Genevieve, your servant-can I do any thing for you, sir?" O, a nurse they have provided for me, I suppose, I thought Hartland, I shall therefore stand on no ceremony with her. "My good girl, I will thank you for a glass of something to quench my thirst-I am burning up, I believe." Genevieve took his hand, and, after holding it a little while, laid it softly down on the bed, saying, as if to herself, "It does indeed burn like fire." The touch of her hand was so soft, that Hartland could tell that she pitied him with all her heart. At this moment the physician came, and our traveler recognized in him an old acquaintance, a senator whom he had known at Washington, and a very eminent man in his profession. He felt extremely grateful at having so gentle a nurse, and so able a physician. Yet his recovery was so slow that it did no great credit to either nurse or doctor, for it was nearly six weeks before his fever was fairly broken. During that time he relapsed more than once, and there were periods when all, and himself among the rest, despaired of his recovery. Day and night Genevieve was his attendant, we might almost say his guardian angel. If he opened his languid glassy eyes in the day, she was sitting by his bedside; and if he asked for any thing at night, he was administered to by her gentle hand, and soothed by her gentle voice. |