Indiana Palladium, Volume 12, Number 3, Lawrenceburg, Dearborn County, 30 January 1836 — Page 1

i n j a vk i lit

EDITED BY MILTON GREGG. Terms S3 PER YEAR. .. 33i PER CENT. DISCOUNT MADE ON ADVANCE, OR 1CI ON HALF YEARLY PAYMENTS.

VOL. XII.

1 MM! IJJ y.H'LU. PRINTED AND TUBLISHED BY W I L L I A M A. CAMEHO NADDRESS Of the Carrier or the New York Commercial Advertiser, January, 1820. THE AGE OF HUMBUG ! 1 I sing of IIcmbco : Oace a year, The Newsmen's honest hearts to cheer, The Editor resigns his quill, And bids us scribble what we will, In prose or verse no matter what, to w e but pay the Printer's scott, And mind, in showing off our learning, Than he don't prove more discerning, Nor let the world perceive that w e, Have both more w it and brain3 than he. tso clip your vins;s, Old Father Time, And listen to my humble rhyme; For lrhvme the rudder is of verses, Uy which like ships, they steer their courses.' Stand forth, Missouri's blowsy son, ;reat Centon! Humbug Number One. Thou mighty sage from the Red River, That erst made haughty Jackson quiver, And left within his arm corporeal, Anounce of lead, as 'a memorial, In token of the sweet affection You bore for him 'fore his election: While he, as quick as he could pull it, Discharged at you a pistol bullet, In fondest hope that through your skin, A streak of day light might get in. Oh Benton! Benton! mighty man, Bear up your honors if you can : CIreatStentor of these modern days, The object of a nation's gaze; Whose matchless voice, when lifted high, Would make the Bull of Bashan fly ; On Benton ! Benton ' mighty sage, Thou father of the 'golden age;' Thou wizard, at whose potent spell, Squire Biddle's Mammouth Monster fell; Thou Plutus,at w hose stern command, Our rivers flow w ith golden sand, While Mississippi's groaning tide, Rolls backw ard in his swelling pride, Rejoicing, as up-hill he flow s, In waves of Eagles and Half Joes? Stand forth thou mighty man of quarrel-, And take, a crown as well earned laurels! Stand forth! Missouri's greatest son Stand forth ! great IIcmbuc N umber O.xk 1 Kow turn you at my muse's back, And glance along that quarter deck, Where proudly stalks in gold and, blue, Brave Elliott Humbug Number Two! Brave Elliot, who, in times of old, On Erie's wave w as w ond'rous bold Brave w hile old Towson did the fighting, And he w as left tojight by writing; Brave just outside of 'Put-in-Bay,' Where Perry would have lost the day, But that the fickle envious w ind, HAD LEFT OUR IIEROE'S SHIP BEHIND J By means of w hich, when quite defeated, The youthful Ftrry quick retreated, And found behind, far in his wake, A shin unscathed for him Q tils; ;i"he winds then kindly veered, and blew Just as the youngster w shd 'em to Whereby again he joined the fray; Renew ed the fight and won the day. Now, does it not stand clear to reason, That in so critical a season, If Elliott had not kept oiray, Our Perry" A ne'er outliv'd the fray ? From which and contradict who can, I argue Elliot was the man! And now for proof, I pray you look, In Russell J arvis's recent book. Brave Elliot! who must not admire, A soul so full of martial fire, So brav e mid scenes of blood and death, That e'en the w inds must hold their breath . Long, long, great Elliot, shall thy name, Stt nd blazoned on the scroll of fame, Thy monument, when thou art dead, Be sculptured with a 'Figure Head! What Humbug next aspires to be, As high a rank as Number Thb.ee? Where shall we find, or great or small, The choicest humbug of them all? Alas', thou beauteous Baltimore, Too long thy fate must we deplore, Since Hisi'iy's muse is forced to mention, That chief of Humbugs the Convention, Made up of hungry scores of elves, Deputed by their noble selves, To represent the people's wishes, In dishing up 'the loaves and fishes.'' Lo! what a throng of hungry leaches, With elbows patched and tattered breeches, Swarm'd forlh from North, and South and West To hear King Andrew's high behest, And like a pack of Eastern slaves , Or servile hacks and purchased Knaves, Crook low 'the hinges of the knee,1' And register the stern decree ! To fill tho ranks of patriots rare, Feds, quids, and quacks were mingled there; Republicans of the old school, Dyed but an hour before V th' wool; With half a score as good as any, Fresh from the bogs of dear Kilkenny ; And lest the humbug should not be Complete, there came from Tennessee, One of Steam Doctor Thompson's men, With hclleboro and hot cayenne, And quantum stf, of wild lobelia, With which to either cure or kill ye. Illustrious Ruckiir! thine the glory, Of these eight lines of this my story. Had it not been for thee who knows, (As eft this world so wicked goes,) Rut that New York's careering Son, Might then have found his race was run? Who knows but that an awful light, Might then and there have passed outright, On old Kentuck's great legislator, The practical amalgamator, The man of whom the wags in sport, Say that ho made a 'male-report' The man of whom 'lis often said, Ho laid the great Tecumseh dead But who, let knaves say what they will, Did not the dusky chieftain kill. Hail Rucker hail! thy voice potential, For old Kentuck proved influential: Hail Johnson! brave in Indian slaughter?; And hail thy coppcr-colercd daughters! And hail great man of Kinderhook ! And Hail Professor Holland's book ! ! But don't forget our good Magician, CjTo pay the Tennessee Physician ! But most of all that we deplore, Is next the Iltnini'ti Number Font By which it 'tis hoped that wo and France, May yet lead off a bloody dance,

ILiAWMEMCIEIffiTURGM, (SA.) SATEJI&IDAY, JJAMHJAR1T 39 13.

That our old Chief, sp grim and hoary, May reap anothes crop ot glory. The case is this, as legends tell: Before great Bonaparte fell, When waging that long war-like-pull, With his next neighbor, Jonny Bull, ( Being rather short one day of change, (A circumstance not often strange.) Ho hid his hands upon a raft Of Jonathan's best merchant craft And doomed it all to confiscation, By which he raised our indignation. And Jonathan he swore 'tarnation? But lo! our rulers of that age, (So runs the tale on hisi'ry's page,) Instead of dealing hearty twisks, Instanter, on the Frenchmen's backs, Preferred at Master Bull to rail, nd dangle at Napoleon 3 tad. Thus left the grievous insult 1 iv, Till thirty years had rolled away; When all at once up-nses Jackson, nd bides us quick lo swing our packs-on, And sally forlh, each mothers son With knife and halbert, sword and gun, And at the Frenchmen make a dash, Unless they quick shell out the cash. Mounseer, surprised, first grins and scrapes, Like one of Cooper's new-found apes, Swears roundly that the ships were rotten, And that he thought 7iwas all torgolten; But Jackson swore he'd none of that, And swunir aloft his cocked up hat, On which Mounsccr, with bow-profound, Promised six shillings on the pound, 'Agreed! cried Rives, who made the journey To act as Uncle Sam's Attorney: But turning round, he gave a wink, To say as much as this : 'I think "Tis after all a little funny, 'That France should pay me so much money.' 'Begar,' says France, 'vat's dat you S3y ? 'Begar, you vissle for your pay!' Quoth Jackson, fiercely, out upon her! tMounscer has broke his word of honor!' 'Vat's dat you say?' cries le grand Nation, 'Begar you make von explanation!1 'Not I,' quolh Andrew and he swore, While striding angry o'er the floor, He'd ne'er indite the phraseology, Of 'explanation' or 'apology.' So stands the case, and no one knows, How soon we all must come to blows Exchange the war of letter-wriling, For plain, old fashioued, true-blue fighting That we may wipe away the stain, Inflicted in Napoleon's reign And which tho then a dirty blot, For thirty years had been forgot, Oh Honor! what a humbug thou! Oh Glory! what a cheat! I vow ! And now for Humbug Number Five, You'll find, as sure as you're alive, That I have got a bone to pick With that arch fiend we call old.Vick! Not Master Shakspeare's fam'd Nick Bottom, But Nick the mammoth Monster rot hun ! The arch-deceiver of the Bank, Prime mover of earh scurvy prank That hath been feen, or felt, by all Mankind, sincp ancient Adam's Fall. Long time hath it been understood, The Bank occasioned Noah's flood Broke up the universe organic, And drown' d the people in the 'Panic.' When Nimrod built the tower of Babe!, To pay his men he was not able, Until the Bank shellM out the 'rhino,' As general Jackson, you, and I know; Well hath Use fact been ascertained, That when the ancient Pharaohs reigned, The Bank enforced the oppressive law, Of making bricks without the straw; And it hath well been proved also, That Pharaoh let the people go, As soon as Mr. Biddle met lain, And told him that the Bank w ould let him : Wben Paris lovely Helen stole, And kindled high each Grecian soul, And gods and men laid seige to Troy, To punif-h the imprudent boy, The Trojans, in the end were sold, By virtue of N ick Biddle's gold : When Alexander overthrew Darius, and his Persian crew, Nodoubtthe craven treacherous tribe From Biddle's Bank received a bribe : 'Tis also thought that Herostratus, Procured the fiery apparatus, By which he played that wicked prank On Dian's temple from the bank : When Rome was burning, Mr. Biddle Gave Nero that New Holland fiddle On w hich, while others were dismay'd, The tyrant yankee-doodle play 'J : V en Itavaillac the Bourbon killed, The Bank his purse w ith ducats filled, While ever' Fsculapian son, Was biib'd to swear the deed was done, Not by the steel of bold fanatic, But by we!l-intention'd lunatic: When George the Third sent o'er the Hessians To help retain these new poscssions, Tho Bank dealt out beyond a doubt, Their Hollands, Bread, and Beef, and Krowl: And when the blacks in St. Domingo, Rose on the whites, I guess by jingo, The Bank supplied them all the 'ready' Required lo keep the Negroes steady: When Moscow's palacc3 were fired, The rascals by the bank were hired; And all the frost that froze the toes Of Bona's troop, and all the snows And storms, in Russia, that year seen, Were blown from Biddle's magazine: And Wellington at Waterloo. With all his troops, was purchased too, Inle every rrenchmatrs mother son, Bribed to betray Napoleon, FeieiiV! beaten, and in sh im-afirinht. Turn'd tail and scampered off outright. All these events arc just as true (As 1 believe, and so ,do you,) As all the vile vindictive stories

'Gainst Biddle charged by Jackson tories. And yet by people white and brown, The Humbug has been swallowed down. When Britons, led by General Ross, High mounted on his sorrel hoss, March'd to the Government's high seal, And made the Cabinet retreat, And burnt with more than Vandal malice, The Sovereign people's marble palace, And, while the people's troops grew thinner, Ate up the Presidential dinner, No doubt exists the shameful caper, Was paid by Biddle's gold and paper. When, like Brutus, erst, in Rome, Beneath our capitol's high dome, The crazy Lawrence rais'd his hand, Against the Chieftain of our land, And made two wanton, wicked snaps Of pistols, with 'percussion caps,' Poindoxter was the traitor, rank, Etnploy'd to murder by the Bank ;

Besides, in China 'lis found out, I That all the awful last Spring's drought Which singed the kingdom like a rocket Was paid for out of Biddle s pocket. 'Tis true, the Bank was not created, When ihese strange tacts that 1 ve related, M' . I. - i. i ... .1..-. : .... iuuk piace: uui mat is now no miiuer; riii i 11 .1 I i lie people swauow u me ocuer; And 1 mifrht with the greatest ease. Add facts by hundreds just like these. Now upward glance thy peering eye Survey the arch of yonder 6ky And on that varying figure fix Your ken; 'lis Hujibug Nlt3ihek Six, ' Tis thus the little standing Sux, By way of dishing up some fun, By transposition steals its light, From the celestial Queen of Night, And shadows forth to catch each loon A splendid Humbug in the Moon Seen from old Afric's Cape of Hope, Through Sir John Herschel's telescope, What fairy visions meet our eyes, Beneath those chastened moon-lit skies! Volcanoes, blazing, light the show, While streams of burning lava flow; Trees, lakes, and woods commingle there, Willi flowers and fruits so rich and rare. While birds with brightest plumage gad, As twittering round from spray to spray, Pour forth profuse, in wild-wood notes, Sweet music from their dulcet throats. Such metals base, as silver gold, Are quite loo worthless to be told, When amethysts and emeralds green, In lofiy ledges bright are seen, And diamond rocks, and glittering spars, Sparkle like showers of shivering stars; Where mules, and pigs, and snakes, and geese, Run wild in universal peace; Where men, no longer grovelling things, Soar through tho air on spangled wing?, Or saunter through the spicy groves. Quite sentimental in their loves. Oh cruel, cruel, Mister Locke, To give the sacans such a shock. And by mischievous moon-shine hoax, Make fools of such a lota folks, Who open'd their mouths at thy first call, And swallowed legs and wings and all. Vet still, a Humbug 'tis not quite And if you'll take the pains lo-nighf, At Haninglon's to call, the story, May there be seen in all its glory. Now conies the greatest under heaven, ( Though counted here as Numkeb seven:) With visage fair, and language bland, It sallies forth throughout the land, Puts out its claims with great urbanity, The chosen child of sweet Humanity Weeps o'er the wots of Afric's legions, In bondage held in Southern regions; Maintains the curse a greater sin, Than e'er mankind before fell in; But not a tear has got to shed, For those by whom they're clothed and fed, E'en though the slave should fling tho brand, In ev'ry house throughout the land, And murder, rapine, fire and flood Whelm the whole realm in tears and blood I But still tho preachers of sedition (Exclusive friends of abolition, ) Although they say they dearly love it, Do not the martyr's honors covet, And hence with prudence most commendable, Their philanthropy's only vendible, In those fair climes whero all are free, And slaves and chains we never see. Oh Thompson! Thompson! truant rover, Long may'si ihou recollect Andover! And thou illustrious Garrison, By whom such mighty deeds arc done, Remember, midst thine honor's cravings, The joiner's shop and pilo of shavings! But, gentle reader, through tho sky, So thick and fast tho Humbugs fly, That Muse and I arc both perplex'd Which of the swarm to mention next: Humbugs in lit'ralure and science, Which bid tho critics all defiance, From Humbug pamphleteers and quacks, To Hitchcock's limestone turkey tracks; Humbug treachers of Phrenology, With Humbug lectures on Geology; Humbug lots of unlearned editors, And legal sharks to humbug creditors: Humbug rhymes to Kalo and Phyllis, And Humbug 'pencillings by Willis, With sketches, void of all propriety, Of Lady Blessinglon's Society; And Brooks' letters from Great Britain, All Humbugs good as o'er were written, With kindred Humbugs from the Continent, Than which no Humbugs bigger o'er were sent:With scores on scores of Humbug books, Liko Cooper's Monikins odd-zooks! So witless, that the monkey race Grew sad, and lost their powers of face ! Humbug modes of getting knowledge, Without tho aid of school or college; Humbug school-books, Humbug teacher?, And rules proving Humbug creatures; Humbug bank?, with 'safety-chain,

By which from breaking lo restrain; And Humbug cities deep in woods,

Iar west, mid bogs, and fens, and floods; And Humbug rail-roads by the dozen, Confiding, honest men, to cozen, Mongst which we II have 7us said, full soon, A doubled tracked one to the moon; With Humbugs more than I can mention, ;nd quite beyond rny comprehension. Humbugs alas! ot every turn, In all ycu eat and all ou burn And I have not a bit of doubt, That ere you've read my metre out, As plain as nose on face you'll see, You're Ilumbugg'd by my poetry! But cease, my muse, the vein satiric, A . .... And change the aspect ot tny lyric Cease the roundelay of pleasure, And tuno ihy strings to solemn measure And list ye gay and jocund throng, As we the huinble lay prolong, In notes of deep and saddened song! What sounds arc those along the sky, Like waters rushing from on high! What wails are those of wild affright. Borne on the sullen wings of night! And whence the fearful lurid glare, That lights ihe troubled mid-night air! Alas! the bells with clamor dire, r rom brazen throats procltim lhat FIRG Is bursting forth with mighty power Fell monarch of the darksome hour! i Clear glowed the stars, the piercing blast Cut deep and sharp in sweeping past, As thousand rushed in consternation, To view the awful conflagration. High o'er Manhatta, fold on fold, The Smoke in lurid masses rolled; While fierce and bright the cracking blaze Gleamed far upon lh' astonished gaze, Wider the burning circle grew, As swift the dire Consumer flew, While sheets of flame of startling siz, Rose wreathing upward to the skies Illumining with golden light, The sable pinions of the night, - And burnishing each lofty spire And mam ling proud New York in fire! Hark ! to the firemen's anxious call ! Hark! to the crash of tumbling wall! Hark! to the broken column's fall! And listen to that piercing groan, That boisterous oath that plaintive moan; Those frantic cries of wild despair, And all lhat tumult mingles there ! Vain man! how futile is thy power, How weak thine arm in such an hour! When the desuoying-angel plies His burning chariot through the skies, Obeditmt to just Heaven's command, To pour out Vengeance o'er the land! But Heaven's as merciful as just; And therefore we may humbly trust That soon the cloud will pass away, And bring New York a brighter day Than e'er Manhattan's cheerful sun In times ol old has looked upon. Already in bright fancy's eyes, Proud structures from the ruins rise; While Commerce, with her ihousand sails, Borne proudly on by prosperous gales, Pour on our free and happy shores, Stream after stream ofgoidtn stores. Manhattan! Queen of Western IsltV. I love thy enterprise ihy smiles; New Yokk! proud city of the West, Long may'si thou thrive long, long, bo blest! And mind, lhat always you remembes I ho fire that happened in December, And don't I pray, forget to thank, 'Squire Biddle and the 'Monster B ink,' For flying hither by expres3 To minister to your distress. What mortal man could ever wish A triumph over Captain Fish More striking than the letter, sent, To Biddle in acknowledgement Of those two millions lhat he gave us, From want and bankruptcy to save us. Well was the compliment deserved, Long shall its mcm'ry be Preserved , Thus, Patrons kind, with music's voice, I pray you, one and all, rejoiceRejoice! because our noble state Becomes each moment yet more great; Rejoice! in view of war, because, The Senate makes the 'Roman' pause; Rejoice! because our country grows So fast, I know lhat no one knows, Rejoice ! because the great Mat Van Buren, Cannot, as yet tlTect our ruin; Rejoice! because we know of course The Government cannot be worse; Rejoice! becaure in Tamm'ny Hall, In recent loco-foco brawl, Of partizans so very many Were served liko Catsoffam'd Kilkenny; And that you've such a poet here, To WISH YOU ALL A IIAITY YEAR ! MISCELLANEOUS. A LEAF FROM MY DIARY. It is midnight, and the sky is robed in the lustre of its countless stars. Solemn and mystic hour! blent wth a thousand memories, hallowed by a thousand dreams!" No sound breaks upon the deen stillness that reigns over hill, and valley, and plain. ri i . t 1 ! t i. . i i .t i no ucasi ius lung aiuee siuim to i.a mir, aim me bird sought its nest. But man ever busy- ever restless amid this general rcposo of nature, either in pursuing pleasure, forming schemes for personal aggrandizement, or plodding on in the dull round of toil, leaves no portion of time unemployed. In imagination Island above yon city, and looking, I see first, tho thoughtless voluptuary, wearing away tho long hours of tho night over the inebriating bowl, with associates equally reckless and corrupt. There, too, is the gambler, far down in tho recesses of an earthly 'Hell,' seated at its board. His

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pale cheek, sunken eye, and trembling hand, mark : us long laminani, with this vice.) I fancy I'hear his despairing cry, as tlm turn of iho dice-box strips him of his last coin. The beautiful and the trusting one, whom in Kippicrdays he swore at the altar to cherish and to lovt, keeps her lone vigit through the weary watches of th night 'and yet he comes not.' No!tho suicide haa sought the grave, as a shelter from the scoffs and sneers of the world and there let his frailties bo buried, and his errors forgotten. Within the walls of that prison, lies upon his bed of straw, tho criminal. Frequently he looks up to his narrow and grated window, to catch the first gleaming of the morning light. Memory conjures up former days, ere Guilt had written its characters on his brow and paints in colors, brighter by contrast, the scenes of his boyhood. Before him stand the cottage of his father, anrf the little plat on which he played with his brothers. He even hears the babbling of the brook, that wound its way at tho foot of the garden. His parents rise up before him, and wear the same smile that they wore when they blessed him, ere he left his homo to gain hi.nsclf a name and rank in tho wot Id. In a retired room of a large building, standing in an ouscure sireet, is a miser, sitting at a low table and counting his treasures by tho light of a lamp. His silvered hair, furrowed brow and bended form tell us that he stands on the very verge of another world and yet he clings to the glittering dust, as if he could carry it with him to that 'far countty,' lo which ho is rapidly hastening. I see the cautious depredator, following his un lawful avocation beneath the mantle of night: and the ambitious statesman, poring over some herald of political news, &, counting on the probability of his 'strutting his hour before the public ee, 'dressed in a nine oner autnonly. In his low and narrow chamber sits a nalo and emaciated student, pursuing at this silent hour his unshared and unsoftened studies. Little cares he for the idle pleasure, the pomp and the splendor of uio inrongeu city. Ho has centred his happiness in wisdom. He has explored tho world of philosophy and letters. He has rent the veil that hung around natural science; and like the astronomer in Rasselas, he has arraigned the stars before him, and learned tho mystery and iriethod of their movements; and he has questioned the winds of their courses and their bourne. Far away from his own country, and his own times, he listens to tho thrilling eloquence of Demosthenes and Cicero. Ho hangs over the pages of Polybius and Tacitus, and hears the war-cry of the Greeks on the plains of Marathon and at the Pass of Thermopylae; and tho shouts of the Roman legionaries at Bama and Cannae atPharsalia.and Philippi. He ponders over the wild chimeras of the ancient philosophers, and detects tho fallacies of the Heraclitan fire, the Pythagorean unity, and the Epicurean eybtern of atome. He leartis tho great truths in moral and mental sciences from tho writings of Ilelvetius and Plato; and with them examines and agitates the springs of the automaton we call the Mind. Fame, honor, and immnrf alitv.

are the prizes for which he is struggling. And when in his midnight vigils he feels the worm of disease gnawing at his heart, and knows tho vital principlo is wasting within him he locks down the long vista of time, and beholds the laurel wreath that is to bo woven for him by posterity. Near to the residence of the student, Death is busy at his dread work, Tho young and the gifted one, who but a little week ago, in the full bloom of health and girlish beauty, was mingling with bright forma in the gay dance and at the banquet, is now stretched upon the bed of sickness. Anxious and trembling friends are gathered around the couch, to look upon the face of her they love. The attendants, who aro there to minister to every wish, tread the apartment with noiseless steps, and communicate in subduced tones. In another week, the vital spark may have fled, and that form, so lately full of life and vigor, will be consigned to the dark and silent grave the food for the red earth-worm. One century hence, and the living, breathing mass, that peoples this city, will have passed from tho stage of life. One century hence, and the heart that I now feel beating with the regular pulsations of health, will have been stilled for ever, and tho hand that is now writing will have mouldered into, dust. And yet how little thought we take for the future! We toil for gold, and honor, and renown, as if there were such a thing as 'immortality on earth.' It was remarked by Hook tho novelist, lhat man may consider himself fortunate that ho is not gifted with prescience, unless the nift could be accom

panied by tho power and moans of avoiding tho consequences which such an instinctive perception would so fearfully exhibit. However truo this observation may be when nnnlied to tho common trials of life; yet I believe it would add greatly to our happiness, if we could so far lift the veil from the future, as lo read the hour in which wo wero to die. As that hour annroached. if tho diseasn nf the body had not broken the nowers of tho mincL how intensely should we think on the great change wo wero about to experience! All our energies would be summoned up and concentrated upon this one point. Power, andrank.and wealth thosa solemn plausibilities, of this world would bo for gotten, and we should linger over tho records of inspiration, to gain a knowledge of that world, on tho threshold of which wo wero about to stn. Ilnw often have I noticed the willingness to depart of ono who is oying by the gradual wear of consumption. He reads in the hectic flush that mantles his rhpplc an augury that never deceives. By constantly survey injr his destinv. he becomes willing to submit: and rccrret itself is conauered bv resolva. T hnrAnfrpn thought of the reply of tho expiring Frenchman, who, on being asked by the attending priest if he was willing to die, replied I am willing to do that which I cannot help.' There is somthing soothing in the creed of thoso religionists, who believe that the dead return to earth that the spirits of the loved and the lost, people the very air which we breathe that th ey aro with us in the solitude of our chambers, and stand by us in the crowded hall that they hear every wo rd which we utter, and witness every deed that we do. There is something grand too in the conception that the soul of man when that curious connexion which tho Deity has established between it and onr material organization, shall be dissolved will live on, and on, and on, through the countless ages of Etrnity. There is a voice within that tells us that we are not put here merely to continue our species, and then to perish. It tells us of a life beyond the grave, in which that mysterious part of cur beinwhich thanks, and reasons, and wills, will bo making continued improvements in knowledge and felicity Addison has beautifully compared the regular process of the soul toward perfection, to tho constantapproach of one mathematical lino towards another