One mild winter day, as he walked along the streets toward the Academy, which stood upon a small eminence, surrounded by native growth —­some venerable in its appearance, others young and prosperous —­all seemed inviting, and seemed to be the very place for learning as well as for genius to spend its research beneath its spreading shades.  He entered its classic walls in the usual mode of southern manners.

The artfulness of this man!  None knows so well as he how to pique the curiosity of the reader—­and how to disappoint it.  He raises the hope, here, that he is going to tell all about how one enters a classic wall in the usual mode of Southern manners; but does he?  No; he smiles in his sleeve, and turns aside to other matters.

The principal of the Institution begged him to be seated and listen to the recitations that were going on.  He accordingly obeyed the request, and seemed to be much pleased.  After the school was dismissed, and the young hearts regained their freedom, with the songs of the evening, laughing at the anticipated pleasures of a happy home, while others tittered at the actions of the past day, he addressed the teacher in a tone that indicated a resolution —­with an undaunted mind.  He said he had determined to become a student, if he could meet with his approbation.  “Sir,” said he, “I have spent much time in the world.  I have traveled among the uncivilized inhabitants of America.  I have met with friends, and combated with foes; but none of these gratify my ambition, or decide what is to be my destiny.  I see the learned world have an influence with the voice of the people themselves.  The despoilers of the remotest kingdoms of the earth refer their differences to this class of persons.  This the illiterate and inexperienced little dream of; and now if you will receive me as I am, with these deficiencies—­with all my misguided opinions, I will give you my honor, sir, that I will never disgrace the Institution, or those who have placed you in this honorable station.”  The instructor, who had met with many disappointments, knew how to feel for a stranger who had been thus turned upon the charities of an unfeeling community.  He looked at him earnestly, and said:  “Be of good cheer—­look forward, sir, to the high destination you may attain.  Remember, the more elevated the mark at which you aim, the more sure, the more glorious, the more magnificent the prize.”  From wonder to wonder, his encouragement led the impatient listener.  A strange nature bloomed before him—­giant streams promised him success—­gardens of hidden treasures opened to his view.  All this, so vividly described, seemed to gain a new witchery from his glowing fancy.

It seems to me that this situation is new in romance.  I feel sure it has not been attempted before.  Military celebrities have been disguised and set at lowly occupations for dramatic effect, but I think McClintock is the first to send one of them to school.  Thus, in this book, you pass from wonder to wonder, through gardens of hidden treasure, where giant streams bloom before you, and behind you, and all around, and you feel as happy, and groggy, and satisfied with your quart of mixed metaphor aboard as you would if it had been mixed in a sample-room and delivered from a jug.