I had been living in the world about thirty years amid the artificial surroundings of a city. I had scarcely looked upon the sky and heavens, except between the margins of opposite house-tops. I had viewed from infancy, without emotion, the rising and setting of the sun from a horizon of chimneys and steeples; and when these exhibitions first presented themselves to me here in this crystal atmosphere, with an expanse from this altitude so new to me, they appeared like a revelation. I seemed to have been suddenly ushered into the world, and to be looking for the first time in my life upon the stupendous phenomena about me. Until this moment I had not approached a realization of the magnificence and prodigious wonders which the heavens afford to our observation. It was here also that I began for the first time to enjoy those beautiful and curious processes of nature, where the bursting germs, ascending gradually out of the soil, change their shapes, multiply their organs, and after a time crown themselves with brilliant and deliciously flavored flowers. In my new observation and intimacy with plant growth, with some previous knowledge of the science appertaining to it, and with a newly discovered delight in marking the changes of position and the characters of the heavenly bodies by the greedy acquirement of all the information within my reach, I have come to forego, without regrets, the social pleasures of life. By the liberal laws of my country, I have become possessed of this attractive spot, and thus far, I have chosen to retain it in its natural state. I came here a young man. I am now old. Thirty-five years of my life have been spent on this elevation, with a self-banishment from society, without in the least abating my interest in human affairs. My communication with the world is mostly through books. A weekly newspaper or two, and such other publications as I may order, are left for me in a hollow tree several miles away by the district messenger; and thus no important event or new discovery in the world escapes me. I have constructed with my own hands a cabin, having much convenience and comfort, and also some outhouses, which shelter my poultry and a pair of gentle cows, which latter, finding abundant food in the natural grasses about, come to me regularly at milking time, seemingly as much for the pleasure of being caressed, as to furnish me the principal nourishment of my life.