received, or as if his faith in all things were shaken.

Is it not possible that this gifted young man had indeed found out those
remedies which Nature has provided and laid away for the cure of every
ill?

The disastrous termination of the most brilliant epoch that ever came to
the Brazen Serpent must be told in a few words. One night, Edward
Dolliver's young wife awoke, and, seeing the gray dawn creeping into the
chamber, while her husband, it should seem, was still engaged in his
laboratory, arose in her nightdress, and went to the door of the room to
put in her gentle remonstrance against such labor. There she found him
dead,--sunk down out of his chair upon the hearth, where were some ashes,
apparently of burnt manuscripts, which appeared to comprise most of those
included in Dr. Swinnerton's legacy, though one or two had fallen near the
heap, and lay merely scorched beside it. It seemed as if he had thrown
them into the fire, under a sudden impulse, in a great hurry and passion.
It may be that he had come to the perception of something fatally false
and deceptive in the successes which he had appeared to win, and was too
proud and too conscientious to survive it. Doctors were called in, but had
no power to revive him. An inquest was held, at which the jury, under the
instruction, perhaps, of those same revengeful doctors, expressed the
opinion that the poor young man, being given to strange contrivances with
poisonous drugs, had died by incautiously tasting them himself. This
verdict, and the terrible event itself, at once deprived the medicines of
all their popularity; and the poor old apothecary was no longer under any
necessity of disturbing his conscience by selling them. They at once lost
their repute, and ceased to be in any demand. In the few instances in
which they were tried the experiment was followed by no good results; and
even those individuals who had fancied themselves cured, and had been