how matters stood, from Christoph Schuppach, to whom I mentioned my loss before I knew who had occasioned it, and forthwith sent to my cabinet, with many apologies, the famous specimen; which I, as an honest man should, returned instanter to the owner. Let this-I repeat it-be a warning to you both.'

We had continued standing precisely in the same position during this conversation, and Dr. Paul showed no signs of quitting his post. I ventured, therefore, to ask him if he was going from or returning to Thun.

'Scarcely one or the other, my friend,' replied the Doctor. I was told that a bed of slate had been discovered at the foot of yonder hill, like that found in the lower part of the Niess; which, by the way, is the last mountain of that high calcareous chain of which the Stockhorn, the Neuneren and the Ganterish are the principal, and which joins close upon the Alps. Now, although I knew it was not so, yet, old fool that I am, I must needs throw away half a day in making sure of what I was positive about. You see I have answered your question, and I shall now consider my time happily redeemed by coming back to the subject of the tertiary deposits of your country, which was so abruptly broken off when we first met. You are fresh from the spot, and have doubtless made new and important discoveries. I wonder if any further remains of the anaplothenium have been found in the Isle of Wight. It is singular I should have found a tooth, and been unable to light upon any other trace. But as to the tertiary deposits; is there no possibility of connecting them with those of

the continent?'

Here Josephine Fluellen kindly came to my aid. 'My dear Doctor,' she cried, advancing to the naturalist, and laying her hand gracefully on his shoulder, 'I fear the subject must once more be interrupted. Herr Saint Leger is engaged'

man.

'Quite right; entirely right; absolutely right,' interrupted the worthy I understand you without your saying another syllable: you have other localities to visit, and I have already too long detained you. When you pay me a visit, which I hope will be very shortly, we will go over the whole ground. Now you must lose no more time. As for myself, since I am here, I will just go once more and examine the molasse at a little distance yonder, which contains glossopetræ, though I admit they are but rarely to be found in it. Josephine, commend me to your excellent father. And, now I think of it, when is Annette coming home? Lina mourns her absence. She must come back; say to her, she must come back, the dear child, and comfort us all again.'

I fancied I could see a moisture in the eyes of that abstracted man; the thought of Annette seemed connected with some deeper feeling. 'And so,' I said to myself, there is no armor quite proof against human manifestations. Like the invulnerable panoply of Achilles, some little point is left for the archer, and the arrow is sure to find it.'

We got into our calêche, and leaving Dr. Lindhorst to make his visits in search of the glossopetræ, we drove along pleasantly toward home. I could not but comment on the character of the worthy Doctor, and made several inquiries about him of my companion; then I recalled her promise to give me an account of Annette, who had interested me so much, and to whom Macklorne was so devoted. Josephine smiled; professed to

be amused at my curiosity; was half inclined to withhold her story, that, (as I insisted,) she might be more strongly importuned to tell it; then, with a smile and a look which sent a glow over my frame and a thrill through my soul, she proceeded:

'Dr. Lindhorst has been an intimate friend of my father from the time they were both together at Heidelberg. The Doctor was born in Switzerland, and, after finishing the study of medicine, came back to his native town to practise it. Before this, however, he had become enthusiastically devoted to geology and its kindred sciences, botany and mineralogy; and, indeed, to all those pursuits which have direct relation to nature and her operations. His father dying soon after, and leaving him a handsome patrimony, he had abundant opportunity to indulge in them; which he did without, however, neglecting his profession. Indeed, he soon acquired a reputation for being skilful and attentive, while every one spoke in terms of commendation of the young Doctor Paul. Suddenly there was a change. He declined any longer to visit the sick, excepting only the most poor and miserable. He absented himself for days and weeks in the mountains, pursuing his favorite objects with an unnatural enthusiasm. Then he left Thun for foreign countries, and was gone two or three years, and returned with an accumulation of various specimens in almost every department of natural science with note-books, herbariums, cabinets, strange animals stuffed to resemble life, birds, fishes, petrifactions-in short, the air, the water, and the earth had furnished their quota to satisfy his feverish zeal for acquisition. He was still a young man, scarce five-and-twenty, but he bore the appearance of a person at least forty years old

'But the cause of this strange metamorphose?'

'No one pretends to tell,' continued Josephine. "There is a report (and, my father, who, I am quite sure, knows all, does not contradict it) that Paul Lindhorst was attached to a young girl who resided in the same town, and that his affection was returned. On one occasion, a detachment of French soldiers was quartered in Thun for a short time, and a sub-lieutenant, who had in some way been made acquainted with her, was smitten with the charms of the pretty Swiss. I suppose, like some of her sex, she had a spice of coquetry in her composition, and now possessing two lovers, she had a good opportunity to practise it. Paul Lindhorst, however, was of too earnest a nature to bear this new conduct from the dearest object of his heart with composure, neither was it his disposition to suffer in silence. He remonstrated, and was laughed at; he showed signs of deep dejection, and these marks of a wounded spirit were treated with thoughtless levity or indifference; he became indignant, and they quarrelled. It is quite the old story: the girl, half in revenge, half from a fancied liking for her new lover, married him; soon the order for march came, and, by special permission, she was permitted to accompany her husband, as the regiment was to be quartered in France, and not to go on active service. Such,' continued Josephine Fluellen, 'is the story which I have heard repeated, and to which was attributed the extraordinary change in the young physician. His devotion to his favorite pursuits continued to engross him, he grew more abstracted, more laborious, more unremitting in his vocation. Again he visited foreign

lands, and was gone another three years. Returning, he brought, in addition to his various collections, a little bright-eyed, brown-haired child, a girl, some four years old; and taking her to his house, which he still retained, he made arrangements for her accommodation there, by sending to Berne for a distant relative, a widow lady, who had but one child, also a little girl, about the age of the stranger. She accordingly took up her residence with Dr. Lindhorst, and assumed the charge of both the children, while the Doctor continued to pursue his labors, apparently much lighter of heart than before?'

6

'But the child?'

'I was about to add that I learned from my father the following account of it. He told me (but I am sure this is not known to any out of our own family) that as Dr. Lindhorst was returning home after his second long absence, he entered a small village near Turin, just as a detachment of The Army of Italy' were leaving it. The rear presented the usual motley collection of baggage-wagons, disabled soldiers, sutlers, camp-women, and hangers-on of all sorts, who attend in the steps of a victorious troop. As Paul Lindhorst stopped to view the spectacle, and while the wild strains of music could be heard echoing and reëchoing as the columns defiled around the brow of a mountain which shut them from his sight, the rear of the detachment came up and passed. At a short distance behind, a child, scarcely four years of age, without shoes or stockings, her hair streaming in the wind, and thinly clad, ran by as fast as her little feet could carry her, screaming, in a tone of agony and terror, 'Wait for me, mamma!' 'Here I am, mamma!' 'Do not leave me, mamma!' 'Do wait for me, mamma!' Paul Lindhorst sprang forward, and, taking the child in his arms, he hastened to overtake the detachment, supposing that by some accident the little creature had been overlooked. On coming up, he inquired for the child's mother.

"Bless me!' said one of the women, if there is not poor little Annette!'

"We can't take her; that's positive,' cried another.

"How did she get here?' exclaimed a third.

ate tone.

"Something must be done,' said a wounded soldier, in a compassion'Give her to me; I will carry her in my arms;' and taking little Annette, who recognized in him an old acquaintance, he easily quieted her by saying her mamma would come very soon.

'The Doctor at length discovered that the poor child's mother had died in the village they were just leaving. He learned also that she was the wife of an officer who had been wounded some time before, and that she had made a long journey, just in time to see him breathe his last, and had remained with the camp until her own death. Some charitable person, attracted by the sprightly appearance of the little girl, had volunteered the charge of it, and, the halt at an end, the detachment had marched on its victorious course. Paul Lindhorst felt a shock, like the last shock which separates soul from body. He had inquired and been told the name of the deceased officer; he buried his face in his hands and wept. Little Annette had fallen asleep in the old soldier's arms, and the heavy military wagon lumbered slowly on its way. It was more than he could bear, to give up the child into the hands of strangers - her child. Old

scenes came back to his recollection. He forgot every resentment. He remembered but his first, his only love. He walked hastily after the wagon, and readily persuaded the old soldier to give the little girl to him. Then taking her in his arms while she still slept, he walked almost with a light heart into the village. It was of course difficult at first to pacify the little creature; but kindness and devotion soon do their office, and all the love which she had had for her mother was transferred to her kind protector. She has always borne his name, and, I believe, is unacquainted with her history, at least with the more melancholy portions of it. Do not ask me any more questions. I know you want to speak of your friend Macklorne. I must not show you too much favor at one time; besides, we must visit Lina a few moments. I have quite neglected her of late.'

We were now driving into Thun. At the door of Dr. Paul, we were met by the maiden herself, a sprightly, good-natured, and very pretty young girl, who insisted that we should descend and partake of some refreshments, and see her new garden. Accordingly, we alighted, and were detained so long and so agreeably, that our ride home was by moonlight.

A drive by moonlight, and Josephine Fluellen my companion!

THE ANGEL IN A MAIDEN'S

BY THOMAS MACKELLAR.

Philadelphia, Dec. 9, 1851.

VOL. XXXIX.

ONCE methought I saw an angel
Smiling in a maiden's eyes,
And my heart was captive taken,
Like a city by surprise.

Then it seemed another angel

Springing upward from my heart,
From mine eyes looked on the other,
And beheld its counterpart.

At the moment of the greeting,
From her lips no whisper fell,
And before her I was silent,
Rapt in a delicious spell.

Love, awaiting in my bosom,
Love, of pure impulses born,
Lighted up my happy pathway
Like a sun of summer morn.

Marked for mine the gentle maiden
With the angel in her eyes;
Years agone we linked our fortunes
By indissoluble ties.

6

EYES.

LITERARY NOTICES.

DREAM-LIFE: A FABLE OF THE SEASONS. By IK MARVEL. In one volume: pp. 286. New-York: CHARLES SCRIBNER.

HERE we have, in very beautiful guise, the charming volume of which we presented an avant-courier in 'The Country-Church,' published in our last number. We could well wish that our available space might enable us to pay such a tribute to the excellence of the book, with examples of the same, as its character deserves. As it is, however, we can only desire the reader to test for himself the justice of our commendation. Let any one-we care not how hypercritical, however much a 'man of the world,' or howsoever soured by it, he may be read the different divisions, under the head of 'Dreams of Boyhood' and 'Dreams of Youth,' and note the deep, natural feeling; the gradual growth of the mind and of the soul; the quiet pictures of nature, and the 'still-life' of the heart; let any one do this, and he will agree with us, that few modern writers excel our author in an authentically winning a way to the reader's confidence and affection. Nor in naming these two divisions of the work do we wish to indicate a preference for them over the 'Dreams of Manhood' and 'Dreams of Age,' save that in the latter the scenes of pathos are too painfully touching to be perused with dry eyes. Throughout the entire work we encounter those little felicities of expression, those rare touches of the pencil, which effect so much in the completeness of a picture, and which always indicate the true master. The work is inscribed, in a brief and well-written dedication, to WASHINGTON IRVING; in the course of which 'Introductory Letter' Mr. MITCHELL observes: 'If I have attained to any facility in the use of language, or have gained any fitness of expression in which to dress my thoughts, I know not to what writer of the English language I am more indebted than to yourself. And if I have shown, as I have tried to show, a truthfulness of feeling that is not lighted by any counterfeit of passion, but rather by a close watchfulness of nature, and a cordial sympathy with human suffering, I know not to what man's heart that truthfulness will come home sooner than to yours.' This is well said: and in good truth, although their verbal styles are entirely different, there is nevertheless much in common between the two authors. We are glad to have been made the medium of bringing two such writers for the first time into each other's presence. We must add a word in favor of the good taste of Mr. MITCHELL'S publisher; for he seems well to understand that there is as much in the physiognomy of a book as in that of a gentleman.