me GREAT WORK at which he was
now laboring, which the world, (he said it with a presentiment of triumph)
would be _compelled_ to own. But, as I remarked, his appearance did not
belie him. Whoever might doubt his metaphysics, his legs were
unquestionably the very longest, by the assistance of which he had lately
won a foot-race on the Union course for a hundred dollars, to enable him
to pursue his studies for the ministry. 'Accoutred as he was,' on one fine
day in the month of May, he had wandered to a distant part of the country
with a walking-stick, furnished at the extremity with a small hammer.
Absorbed in revery, and constructing verses by the way, he arrived at last
in a romantic valley, where he was soon busily employed in cracking rocks,
and collecting specimens for his cabinet.

The solitude and pleasant walks were eminently suited to the mind of
Professor Shaw. The babbling of the rills which came down the hill sides
and washed the pebbles at his feet, were soothing to the sense, and the
birds sang sweetly on the trees, which were covered with the blossoms of
the spring. Only a single dwelling was seen on one of those swelling hills
which rose above each other, gently and far away, till their last
undulating lines were limited by the horizon's blue verge. The eye
wandered with pleasure over the diversified prospect, which included the
boundaries of three sovereign states, with various rivers, valleys and
fertile fields. On such a spot, where Nature reigned and developed herself
in quiet beauty, whether in the voluptuous budding of the spring, or in
the year's gorgeous decline, Charity had taken the hint and erected an
asylum for the insane. Happy invocation of Nature, most kind and gentle
saviour of the sick, who meeting her in her quiet haunts may touch her
beautiful garments and be whole! In the exhilarating sunshine, in the
fields garnished so exquisitely by our good God, in the religious woods,
the circling hills, and the unbounded sky, there is a force of healing,
when Art has consigned the victim to despair, and the soothing hand
aggravates the deep-rooted sorrow. Nature gently re-conducts the lost mind
through its labyrinth of error, speaking sweet consolation in the passing
breeze, and a volume of beauty in each unclasping flower.

Professor Shaw was doubling up his grotesque figure over the stones,
gathering garnets. With the intent look of a gold digger, or an alchymist
prying into his crucible, he wa