which I have always addressed thee. I do not complain that thy demands have been unreasonable, but I renounce for ever the vain project of giving to any one all that shall be necessary to his happiness; since I cannot but perceive that our necessities have no defined limits, but are a circle for ever widening; and should I abandon to thee my crown and empire, still some wish must remain unsatisfied. Retain, then, what has been bestowed on thee-they are the reward for saving the life of the Commander of the Faithful; but know that thou shalt never have that humble cottage on which thou hast now set thy desires. It shall remain within thy sight to remind thee of the state from which my royal munificence has raised thee. Farewell! thou hast lost thy good Genius, but thou hast taught thy sovereign a lesson on the vanity of worldly possessions, more useful than all the learned doctors of his court; since find that the power of the great Houran al Raschid himself is unable to satisfy the wishes of one man, or even to grant him the necessaries of life." MAY YOU DIE AMONG YOUR KINDRED. eyes, Ir is a sad thing to feel we must die away from our home. Tell not the invalid, who is yearning after his distant country, that the atmosphere around him is soft; that the gales are filled with balm, and the flowers are springing from the green earth;-he knows that the softest air to his heart would be the air that hangs over his native land; that, more grateful than all the gales of the south, would breathe the low whispers of anxious affection; that the very icicles clinging to his own eaves, and the snow beating against his own windows, would be far more pleasant to his than the bloom and verdure which only more forcibly remind him how far he is from that one spot which is dearer to him than the world beside. He may, indeed, find estimable friends, who will do all in their power to promote his comfort and assuage his pains; but they cannot supply the place of the long-known and long-loved; they cannot read, as in a book, the mute language of his face; they have not learned to wait upon his habits, and anticipate his wants, and he has not learned to communicate without hesitation all his wishes, impressions, and thoughts, to them. feels that he is a stranger; and a more desolate feeling than that could not visit his soul. How much is expressed by that form of Oriental benediction, "May you die among your kindred!"-Greenwood. ONE cause of folly, one especial cause, Was this: few knew what wisdom was, though well Wisdom is humble, said the voice of God. He THE BOG IN IRELAND. MOUNTAINS and valleys, rocks, ravines, and plains, nay, sometimes even the caverns, are all covered with bog in Ireland. Where cultivation ceases, the bog begins, and the whole island may be said to be a bog with occasional interruptions. There are parts of Germany, France, and the Netherlands, which also seem to have a decided tendency to the formation of bog, but nowhere else is this so much the case as in Ireland. Our Harz mountains have some bog, it is true, but in Ireland the very summits of such mountains are covered with bog, and wherever cultivation recedes, the bog resumes possession of the abandoned ground. The humidity of the climate, I suppose, is the chief, though not the only, cause of this phenomenon. The decayed vegetable matter, which in other countries dries and resolves itself into dust, leaves here a considerable residuum, which is augmented in the following year by the new residue of decayed plants; and a rapid accumulation thus takes place, a quantity of moisture being held in absorption, till, gradually, immense compact masses are formed. A young bog, one that is yet but in its infancy, is called a "quaking bog;" but in time, when the mass becomes more compact, and assumes a black colour, it is known as a turf-bog, or peat-bog. The vegetables, whose residua go to the formation of these bogs, are, of course, of infinite variety. The mosses, as they decay, form a loose, spongy mass, often so tough that the turf-spade will not pierce it, and it then goes by the name of old wife's tow. Sometimes the bog is formed almost wholly of mosses, sometimes of mosses mixed with the remains of other plants. Hence arise two principal descriptions of morasses in Ireland, the red or dry bogs, and the green or wet bogs. The former yields a light spongy turf, that quickly burns away, the latter, a heavy black turf. Some of the green bogs, however, are so wet, that no turf can he obtained from them at all.-KOHL's Ireland. MAHOGANY The Is the wood of the Swietenia mahogoni, a lofty and beautiful South American tree, allied to the pride of India, which is so commonly introduced into the Southern States, and belonging to the same natural family-meliaceae. leaves are pinnate, composed of four pairs of oval, acumiThe nate, entire leaflets, and destitute of a terminal one. flowers are small, white, and are disposed in loose panicles. The fruit is a hard, woody, oval capsule, about as large as a turkey's egg. The wood is hard, compact, reddishbrown, and susceptible of a brilliant polish. It is one of the best and most ornamental woods known, forming very elegant articles of furniture. It is brought principally from Honduras and the West Indies, from which places it is exported in vast quantities to Great Britain, the Continent of Europe, and especially to the United States of America, where it is so abundant and cheap as to have brought into disuse many of the native kinds of wood, which otherwise would be highly esteemed in cabinetmaking. The tree is of rapid growth, and its trunk often has a diameter of four feet. Mahogany cutting constitutes a principal occupation of the British settlers in Honduras. Gangs of negroes, consisting of from ten to fifty each, are employed in this work: one of their number is styled the huntsman, and his duty is to traverse the woods in searchi of the trees. When these have been discovered, a stage is erected against each, so high that the tree may be cut down at about twelve feet from the ground. After the branches are lopped, the task commences of conveying the logs to the water's side, which is often a work of considerable difficulty. They now float down the current singly, till they are stopped by cables, which are purposely stretched across the river at some distance below. Here the different gangs select their own logs, and form them into separate rafts, preparatory to their final destination. In some instances, the profits of this business have been very great, and a single tree has been known to have produced eight hundred pounds. Mahogany now begins to be rare in St. Domingo, Jamaica, and the West India Islands. It is said to have been introduced into England about the year 1724. GENIUS resembles a proud steed, that whilst he obeys the slightest touch of the kind hand of a master, revolts at the first indication of compulsion or restraint.-Life of Leo the POLLOK's Course of Time. Tenth. JOHN W. PARKER, PUBLISHER, WEST STRAND, LONDON,' I. THE CITY FROM THE RIVER. THE city of Lyons, (otherwise spelled Lyon or Lion,) is situated at the confluence of two great rivers, the Rhone and the Saône; it is the second city of France, the chief city of manufactures, and the focus where the commerce of the north and south converges. It is 240 miles in a direct line south-east of Paris, but the distance is considerably more by the usual routes. It is generally agreed among historians that this city, (the ancient Lugudunum or Lugdunum,) originated in a colony planted here by L. Munatius Plancus, commander of the legions in Gaul at the time of Julius Cæsar's death. The people of Vienne having been driven from their own home by a revolt of the Allobroges, were settled here by Plancus about the year 42 B.C. Soon after this settlement Plancus established at Lugdunum a Roman colony or municipium. Augustus was in Gaul about the time when this colony was settled, and appears to have resided at Lugdunum. The place seems to have risen to importance in a very short time, for soon after its foundation Strabo describes it as the most populous city of Gaul, with the exception of Narbonne. The Romans established here a mint for coining gold and silver money; it was their great mart, and it gave name to one of the four great divisions of VOL. XXIV. Gaul. An altar was erected here by sixty of the nations of Gaul, in honour of Augustus, who resided during three years in this city. The Emperor Claudius was born at Lyons, on the very day when the altar of Augustus was consecrated. Claudius raised this city from the rank of a municipium to that of a Roman colony, which admitted it to the privileges of the citizenship of Rome; an act of the highest national importance. The speech made by Claudius, as censor, in the Roman senate, (A.D. 48.) on this occasion, was engraven on bronze tablets, which were fortunately discovered in the year 1528, during some excavations which were being made on the heights of St. Sebastian. They were originally deposited in the Hotel de Ville, at Lyons, but are now in the Palais des Beaux Arts, or Museum. These tablets are described as being beautifully cut; the letters as sharp and as legible as if they had just issued from the engraver's hands. They probably give the very words or composition of Claudius himself. "Tacitus has given the speech very faithfully in substance; but treating the Emperor as all clever reporters do their subjects, he has condensed and improved the language of the speakers. There are some evident mistakes in the engraving or cutting of the inscription, of which the letters are 762 very beautiful; such as RVSVS for RVRSVS; and some archæisms, such as the termination DIVOM for DIVVM. As a composition the speech is business-like and solid." But the prosperity of the new city was suddenly arrested by a terrible fire, (said to have originated in lightning,) which in a single night utterly destroyed it. It was rebuilt by a grant from the Emperor Nero. In modern times some excavations near the site of the Forum of Trajan brought to light masses of molten metal, marbles, and other relics, which seem to confirm the disaster as it has been touchingly described by Seneca. In the year 197 the city was pillaged and burnt, and many of its inhabitants put to the sword by Septimius Severus, after he had defeated Clodius Albinus, in consequence of a retreat being afforded to the vanquished within its walls. The city is described by Herodian as being at this time large and wealthy. In the reign of Probus the people of Lugdunum, dreading the effects of the severity of that emperor, elected Proculus to the imperial purple; but he was de. feated, and put to death by order of Probus, A.D. 280. Early in the fifth century the Burgundians having been employed under some of the emperors to oppose barbarians fiercer than themselves, gained possession of Lugdunum, and of the south-east portion of Gaul. On the overthrow of the Burgundians, Lugdunum fell into the possession of the Franks. Lugdunum is also celebrated as the scene of much suffering among the early Christians. In the reign of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, (A.D. 172 or 177,) a severe persecution raged. Pothinus, bishop of Lyon, who probably introduced the Gospel into this part of Gaul, was one of the martyrs in this persecution. His successor was Irenæus, one of the most eminent of the early Fathers. During many centuries Lyons occupies a distinguished place both in civil and ecclesiastical history; but we must pass over many of the great events of which it has been the scene, in order that our notice of the modern city may be more complete and interesting to the general reader. The general appearance and environs of Lyons are thus described by Mr. Roscoe : Nothing can exceed, in beauty and variety of aspect, the scenery through which the tourist passes, in approaching this ancient city, once the centre of the Roman conquests in the north. Green plains and sunny hills, clothed with the purple vine; towns, castles, and convents, stretching in the distance; the village spires glittering through the stately trees; villas, hamlets, and farms, with the picturesque region of Mont d'Or; its sloping hills, and its antiquelooking dwellings, mark his progress from the French capital, through the more fertile and luxuriant_districts, conducting him towards the land of the south. Far along the horizon he beholds the distant mountains of Switzer land, extending in a dim, blue, undulating line. Savoy may be just discerned, its lofty hills losing themselves in the clouds; and at times even the vision of the mightier Mont Blanc, dim and vast, unfolds itself to the astonished view. The ascent of Mont d'Or presents him with fresh objects, and splendid prospects open before him from its summit. On the west stretches the wild and mountain region of Auvergne; far to the south it is bounded by the great chain of mountains, marking the limits of its glowing plains; while to the north appears the rich valley of the Saône, and the uplands around Autun. The view of the river is lost in the valley, by its picturesque sweep round the foot of Mont d'Or, the valley itself extending through a distance of fifty miles; and it is not till the tourist beholds it, as he descends a precipitous hill, proceeding over several lesser hills and slopes, embellished with splendid villas of white stone, clustered round with gardens and orchard grounds, that he gains the vicinity of Lyons. A bold turn of the river then brings him upon the deep, rocky channel. on which the city is placed; and hence, through a succession of increasing villas and gardens, he arrives on a level with the Saône. It is only here that he first obtains a view of Lyons, no less distinguished for its manufacturing and commercial spirit in modern days, than for the scenes it has witnessed in other times, from religious and revolutionary persecutions. ence. The entrance into the modern city conveys no adequate idea to the traveller of the superior character of many of its edifices, and of its commerce, wealth, and influ The road into which it has been formed by the passage of a river, resembles a quarry rather than a street; and the depth of the passage appears greater than it is by the broad shadow of the rocks which rise high above upon either side. It continues through a street of houses six or seven stories high, and built against the solid rock. After proceeding some way along this gloomy approach, the river lying deep in the channel below him, the traveller reaches a gate where he is asked for his passport; and it is there he beholds with singular advantage the numerous bridges of the place, and the opposite banks of the Saône. Here also the channel of the river expands, and the town, with some of its nobler edifices, breaks upon the view. At length, when he reaches the prison and courts of justice, the continual gloom begins to disappear; and just beyond he beholds the grand cathedral of St. John, an antique edifice, of which the people are justly proud. But this appearance of grandeur is limited to the quays, bridges, and noble rivers; to some of the heights which command them, and to the two public places or squares of Bellecour and Des Terreaux. There are but few fine streets and long open thoroughfares; the interior parts are described as consisting of a huge stack of lofty houses, penetrated by lanes so excessively narrow, wet, and dirty, as not to be traversed without disgust; these lanes are paved with round projecting stones, which are painful to the feet, and lined on each side by a row of curb stones, the object of which is not to protect the pedestrian, but the shops, from carts and carriages. The houses are six or seven stories high, with narrow court-yards, which the sun's rays seldom reach; they are chiefly built of stone, and are solid in their construction. Some clue is afforded to the stranger in this labyrinth, from the circumstance that the streets, the names of which are written on black plates, run parallel with the course of the two rivers; while those on yellow plates are at right angles with them. Lyons will be best viewed from the heights of Fourvières, a steep hill immediately in front of the Cathedral. The streets which partially cover its face are principally inhabited by weavers, and through every open window you hear the click of the looms, and see the bright webs upon which they are employed in gaining their daily bread-if they can. They are wretchedly poor. Amongst them are very many English who are in the lowest state of degradation, imbibing in addition to their own vices all the corruptions of the country to which they have migrated, without adopting any of the better parts of the French character. They are wholly without religious instruction. The very excellent and pious Protestant minister, M. Morrand, established at his own expense a chapel in which he caused service to be performed in English, but none attended, and it has been since discontinued.-Hand-book for Travellers. Another writer thus describes the ascent to the Fourvière, and the view obtained therefrom:— Up narrow lanes as steep as stairs, partly in zig-zag, and in front of a row of shops in which rosaries, medals, pictures, candles, and wax models of different parts of the body, for suspension in the church, are displayed before the eyes of devout pilgrims, you reach the church of Notre Dame de Fourvières, recently repaired and enlarged, but only remarkable for the quantity of ex votos, paintings, &c., with which its walls are covered, offered to the altar of the miracle-working figure of our Lady of Fourvières. It is seated on the very summit of the hill, and is said to occupy the site, and retain the name of the Roman Forum Vetus, built by Trajan. Numerous but inconsiderable Roman remains have been brought to light on the hill, the principal being the fragment of an amphitheatre and aqueduct. Close beside the church a speculator has built a tower by way of observatory, six hundred and eighty feet above the Saône; and either from it or the terrace beside it, a most magnificent view may be obtained. The city of Lyons appears unrolled as a map beneath your feet, including the two noble rivers, visible nearly to their junction; the Saône crossed by eight bridges, the Rhone by three or four. Beyond it stretch fields, plains, and hills, dotted over with country houses; and the distance is closed, in clear weather, by the snowy peaks of Mont Blanc nearly one hundred miles off, this being one of the farthest points from which it is seen. More to the south, the Alps of Dauphiné, the mountains of the Grand Chartreuse, and the Mont Pilas, appear. The medium breadth of the Rhone at Lyons is about 650 feet; its current is very rapid, and it is liable to sudden inundations, the effects of which are in some measure counteracted by an embankment. On the right bank of the river is a range of quays partly flanked with trees, and on the left bank are several public gardens and houses of entertainment. There are three bridges over the Rhone at Lyons. The Saône has a more gentle current than the Rhone, and its course is more winding. It flows along the base of the hill of Fourvières. Both its banks are lined with quays, and have several basins or docks for boats, the traffic by which is very great. In the city, the river is crossed by seven bridges, some of which are remarkable. Below the city is a bridge, over which the railway to St. Etienne passes. These two rivers enclose between them a long tongue of land, on which part of the city is built. "The junction of the streams formerly took place just south of the then existing ramparts of the town, and below the junction was an island called Mognat, or Mogniat, and several shoals; but about the year 1776, a new and straight channel was cut for the Rhone, carrying the point of junction above a mile further down the stream, converting a considerable part of the former bed of the river into dry land, and uniting the island of Mognat, and the shoals, with the main. The prolongation of the bed of the Saône between the former and present points of junction, was formed on the western side of what had previously been the bed of the united streams. By this great alteration, a large extent of ground was gained, over which new streets and buildings are continually extending." Mean hovels and splendid mansions, poverty and luxury, stand out in painful contrast in this city. The principal square is the Place Bellecour, of which the length is three hundred yards, and the breadth from about two hundred to two hundred and forty yards: it is planted with lime-trees, and in the centre is a fine equestrian statue of Louis the Fourteenth. Bellecour and its vicinity is the fashionable district of Lyons. The public buildings of Lyons will be noticed in another article. THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. THE thoughts are strange that croud into my brain, Deep calleth unto deep. And what a ́e we, THE ACTION OF OIL UPON THE WAVES. ABOUT Seventy years ago, the peculiar smoothing action of oil upon rough water was introduced by Dr. Franklin to the notice of scientific men in this country. The attention of that ingenious philosopher was first attracted to the subject during his passage to Madeira, when the weather being warm, and the cabin windows constantly open for the benefit of the air, the flaring of the candles at night was a source of great annoyance. He therefore formed a floating light in a common glass tumbler, and, by means of wire, suspended it from the ceiling of the cabin. The glass contained about one-third water and one-third oil; the rest was left empty, in order that the sides of the glass might protect the flame from the wind. A little wire hoop was used to contain the wick, and it was furnished with corks to keep it afloat on the oil. This lamp diffused a good light all over the table. In the evening, at supper time, happening to look at the lamp, Franklin remarked that, though the surface of the oil was perfectly tranquil, and preserved its proper position and distance with regard to the brim of the glass, yet the water under the oil was in great commotion, rising and falling in irregular waves, which continued during the whole evening. The lamp was kept burning as a watch-light all night. In the morning Franklin observed that, though the motion of the ship continued the same, the water was now quiet, and its surface as tranquil as that of the oil had been the evening before. At night again, when the oil was put upon it, the water resumed its irregular motions, rising in high waves almost to the surface of the oil, but without disturbing the smooth level of that surface. This appearance may be produced anywhere by the following contrivance. Fasten a piece of string round a tumbler, with strings from each side meeting above it in a knot at about a foot distance from the top of the tumbler. Pour in water, so that it may occupy about one-third of the glass: then lift it by the knot, and swing it to and fro in the air, and the water will remain steady. Pour gently about as much oil, and then swing the glass as before, when the water will become agitated, the surface of the oil remaining quite tranquil. Franklin showed this experiment to a number of persons. He says, "Those who are but slightly acquainted with the principles of hydrostatics, &c., are apt to fancy immediately that they understand it, and readily attempt to explain it; but their explanations have been different, and to me not very intelligent. Others, more deeply skilled in those principles, seem to wonder at it, and promise to consider it. And I think it is worth consideration; for a new appearance, if it cannot be explained by our old principles, may afford us new ones, of use, perhaps, in explaining some other obscure parts of natural knowledge." On his arrival in London, this subject excited the attention of Franklin's scientific friends, and at length a paper on the subject was read before the Royal Society, on the 2nd of June, 1774. It appears that the action of oil in smoothing the surface of agitated water, had long been a subject of popular remark. Pliny mentions this property of oil as known particularly to the divers, who made use of it in his time in order to have a more steady light at the bottom of the water. It was stated also that, on the Spanish coast, the fishermen were accustomed to pour a little oil on the sea in order to still its motion, that they might be able to see the oysters lying at the bottom, which are very large, and which they take up with a proper instrument. Our sailors also have remarked that the water is always much smoother in the wake of a ship that has been newly tallowed than it is in one that is foul. Pennant also observes of the seal-catchers of Scotland, that when the seals are devouring a very oily fish, which they always do under water, the waves above are observed to be remarkably smooth, and by this mark, | Centaur, with the long-boat and barge, towards the the fishermen know where to look for them. Franklin also says that, in 1757, being at sea in a fleet of ninetysix sail, he observed the wakes of two of the ships to be remarkably smooth, while all the others were ruffled by the wind, which blew fresh. "Being puzzled with the differing appearance," he continues, "I at last pointed it out to our captain, and asked him the meaning of it. 'The cooks,' said he, have, I suppose, been just emptying their greasy water through the scuppers, which has greased the sides of those ships a little!' and this answer he gave me with an air of some little contempt, as to a person ignorant of what everybody else knew. In my own mind I at first slighted his solution, though I was not able to think of another." Franklin was also informed by a gentleman from Rhode Island, that it was a common remark in the harbour of Newport, that the sea was always smooth while any whaling vessels were in it. Also, that a Dutch vessel, near the islands Paul and Amsterdam, met with a storm in which the captain, for greater safety in wearing the ship, poured oil into the sea, which prevented the waves breaking over her, and to this he attributed the preservation of his vessel. With all these testimonies in favour of the tranquillizing action of oil upon rough water, Franklin tried a variety of experiments, two or three of which may be noticed here. On one occasion, while in company with Sir John Pringle, and others, in a boat on the Derwent lake, it was found that by pouring a very small quantity of oil upon the surface of the water, the waves, which were in great agitation, were instantly calmed, and that to so great a distance round the boat as seemed incredible. The next experiment was tried on Clapham common, on a pond, the surface of which was very rough from the action of the wind. On dropping a little oil upon the water, it spread with surprising swiftness upon the surface; but the effect of smoothing the waves was not produced, because he had applied it on the leeward side of the pond, where the waves were largest, and the wind drove the oil back upon the shore. He then went to the windward side, where they began to form, and there the oil, though not exceeding a tea-spoonful in quantity, produced an instant calm over the space of several yards square, which spread amazingly, till it reached the lee side, making all that portion of the pond, to the extent of perhaps half an acre, as smooth as a looking-glass. Franklin explained this phenomenon, by supposing that wind passing over the surface of water, raises it into wrinkles, which, if the wind continue, are the elements of future waves; but that when water is covered with a film of oil, the wind slides over it, and leaves it as smooth as it finds it. He thought that advantage might be taken of the fact, to suppress the waves in any required place, provided we could come at the windward of the spot where they take their rise. This can seldom if ever be done in the ocean, but something might perhaps be done on particular occasions to modify the violence of waves when in the midst of them, so as to prevent their breaking. He also thought it might be of use on those shores where the violence of the surf prevented persons from landing. His idea was, that by sailing to and fro at some distance from a lee shore, and continually pouring oil into the sea, the waves might be so much diminished before they reached the shore, as to diminish the violence of the surf, and thus permit an easy landing. To test these practical views, Dr. Franklin, in company with Captain Bentinck, Sir Joseph Banks, Drs. Solander, Blagden, and others, visited a part of the English coast between Haslar hospital and the point near Tillhecker, on a windy day, when the wind made a lee shore. They proceeded from his majesty's ship shore. The long-boat was anchored about a quarter of a mile from the shore: some of the company were landed behind the point, and placed themselves opposite the long-boat, where they might observe the surf, and notice whether any change occurred in it upon using the oil. Another party in the barge plied to windward of the long-boat, as far from her as she was from the shore, making trips of about half a mile each, and pouring oil continually out of a large stone bottle, through a hole in the cork. The experiment had not all the desired effect, for no material difference was observed in the height or force of the surf upon the shore; but those who were in the long-boat observed a tract of smoothed water, the whole of the distance in which the barge poured the oil, gradually spreading in breadth towards the long-boat. "I call it smoothed," says Franklin, "not that it was laid level, but because, though the swell continued, its surface was not roughened by the wrinkles, or smaller waves, and none, or very few white caps, (or waves whose tops turn over in foam,) appeared in that whole space, though to windward and leeward of it there were plenty." By means of conventional marks, we have the power of referring, at pleasure, to the records of human genius and knowledge; thereby adding to our stores, and perpetuating the better feelings of our nature. How boundless the field, when men shall learn to avail themselves of it, and how all by means of the eye! Without this organ, there could numerous the advantages which we have already derived— neither have been art nor artist, or any written evidence of human acquirements. When we reflect upon these diversified utilities, so boundless and so beneficent in their operation, our hearts expand with gratitude and joy.-M'CORMAC's Philosophy of Human Nature. THE minds of most men are little better than a vast and dusty lumber-room, into which days and hours have been flung aside as useless. Here lies a golden opportunity for a good or a great action, which at the time he trampled on; there, still glittering in one dark corner, are the bright talents that idleness or carelessness have left to rust. Now and then appears a warm and kind feeling, which, because religion was not at hand to guide and protect it, was flung away, and has turned to bitterness. These are warnings unheeded, blessings forgotten, and gifts neglected; making one great class of undying memories, over which the dark wings of remorse will one day brood to all eternity.-Truth without Prejudice. THE influence of literature, science, and art, is among the most beneficent in existence. All three enhance the dignity of human nature, but the last two have an especial reference to our wants. Medicine, for example, alleviates or removes, and often averts disease. Mathematics, chemistry, geology, astronomy, natural philosophy, and natural history, conduce to the well-being and permanence of the frame. multiply our conveniences, and by conducing to the eleThe applications of science are of inestimable variety; they gancies and refinements of life, promote the interests of virtue and happiness.-M'CORMAC's Philosophy of Human Nature. |