The North has been generous to us of late; she has sent us _Ole
Bull_. She is about to send _Frederika Bremer_. May she add
JENNY LIND!
CAROLINE.
The other evening I heard a gentle voice reading aloud the story of
Maurice, a boy who, deprived of the use of his limbs by paralysis, was
sustained in comfort, and almost in cheerfulness, by the exertions of
his twin sister. Left with him in orphanage, her affections were
centred upon him, and, amid the difficulties his misfortunes brought
upon them, grew to a fire intense and pure enough to animate her with
angelic impulses and powers. As he could not move about, she drew him
everywhere in a little cart; and when at last they heard that
sea-bathing might accomplish his cure, conveyed him, in this way,
hundreds of miles to the sea-shore. Her pious devotion and faith were
rewarded by his cure, and (a French story would be entirely incomplete
otherwise) with money, plaudits and garlands, from the by-standers.
Though the story ends in this vulgar manner, it is, in its conduct,
extremely sweet and touching, not only as to the beautiful qualities
developed by these trials in the brother and sister, but in the
purifying and softening influence exerted, by the sight of his
helplessness and her goodness, on all around them.
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