e scenes like
these; nowhere is soft beauty blended so harmoniously with wild
picturesqueness.

And yet not a mountain meets the eye--not even a hill--but the dark
_cyprieres_, draped with the silvery _tillandsia_, form a background to
the picture with all the grandeur of the pyrogenous granite!

The forest no longer fringes thee here. It has long since fallen before
the planter's axe; and the golden sugar-cane, the silvery rice, and the
snowy cotton-plant, flourish in its stead. Forest enough has been left
to adorn the picture. I behold vegetable forms of tropic aspect, with
broad shining foliage--the _Sabal_ palm, the anona, the water-loving
tupelo, the catalpa with its large trumpet flowers, the melting
_liquidambar_, and the wax-leaved mangolia. Blending their foliage with
these fair _indigenes_ are an hundred lovely exotics--the orange, lemon,
and fig; the Indian-lilac and tamarind; olives, myrtles, and bromelias;
while the Babylonian willow contrasts its drooping fronds with the erect
reeds of the giant cane, or the lance-like blades of the _yucca
gloriosa_.

Embowered amidst these beautiful forms I behold villas and mansions; of
grand and varied aspect--varied as the races of men who dwell beneath
their roofs. And varied are they; for the nations of the world dwell
together upon thy banks--each having sent its tribute to adorn thee with
the emblems of a glorious and universal civilisation. Father of Waters,
farewell!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though not born in this fair southern land, I have long lingered there;
and I love it _even better than the land of my birth_. I have there
spent the hours of bright youth, of adventurous manhood; and the
retrospect of these hours is fraught with a thousand memories tinged
with a romance that can never die. There my young heart yielded to the
influence of Love--a first and virgin love. No wonder the spot should
be to me the most hallowed on earth!

Reader! listen to the story of that love!

CHAPTER TWO.

SIX MONTHS IN THE CRESCENT CITY.

Like other striplings escaped from college, I was no longer happy _at
home_. The yearning for travel was upon me; and I longed to make
acquaintance with that world, as yet only known to me through the medium
of books.

My longing was soon to be gratified; and without a sigh I beheld the
hills of my native land sink behind the black waves--not much caring
whether I s