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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1842 Excerpt:...were thrown open, but the air that floated in was hot and oppressive. The sick man lay with the drapery of bis bed drawn back and his neck and chest bared that he might have the full benefit of the air. His cheek was crimson with the burning flush, but his brow was pale as marble, and covered with a cold moisture like the dew of death. His eyes were closed, but at intervals the lids were lifted heavily and disclosed the orbs beneath swollen and inflamed to a frightful degree. His breathing was labored and painful, and sometimes it seemed to cease. The doctor sat with his finger upon the fluttering pulse and his eye fixed upon the changing face. The nurse, with her head buried in the drapery, knelt at the foot of the couch. The solitary lamp that burned in the room gleamed with a faint and fitful ray, and seemed itself a type of approaching dissolution. On the heavy night air the sounds of busy life floated up from the street beneath, offering a striking contrast to the silence and gloom of that sick chamber, where death seemed already to be doing his fearful work. Moments, that seemed hours, passed thus, end then, in a whisper, the doctor spoke. The nurse sprang up and moved noiselessly to his side. "The crisis is over," said he, "his breathing has become more free-, and he is sinking into n gentle sleep. You have but to watch him carefully, to see that no sound disturbs his slumber, and be will awake free from pain and danger." With a low "good night, nurse," the doctor then departed, and she who had been thus addressed, sank on her knees and lifted her streaming eyes to heaven. The prayer of gratitude breathed et that moment of thankfulness was as heartfelt, pure, and fervent as any that ever ascended to the throne of Grace....