So very few facts authentic and absolute, enter into the impenetrable mystery between our birth, and death, CALLED LIFE— that much of the happiness of the present are sacrificed in vain remembrances of the past, and equally hopeless imaginations of the future.
We are here without any will or dictation on our part for our appearance, and with no knowledge as to the time of our departure.
Metaphysicians and philosophers who have devoted their entire lifetime to scientific investigation, from the Archaean, down to the Quaternary ages, have demonstrated that earth-building has been one continuation of an ascending series.
That this solid terra firma is but the remains of what has been animate; the grave-yard of all past creation. Paleontological researches, and fossiliferous deposits, present characters of gnomes, pixies, fries, fairies, genii; and upon these hypotheses, they affirm, that our descent has been a gradation from the lowest polyp.
Happily, however, few persons abnormally develop- ed in the faculty of tracing genealogy. It is well to pay due deference to the masters; but to the great mass of us who represent the utilitarian, work-a-day world, this knowledge affords little alleviation and is of secondary importance to the materialist's requirements of three meals for today. Theology, represented by the brainiest men the world has ever known, has submitted voluminous matter pertaining to the life to come. Without "that light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world," and intuitive knowledge, nothing has been adduced more comforting and satisfactory to the craving soul than doctrines analogous to the homely faith which inspired the aborigines in the belief of the existence of the "Great Spirit" and "Happy Hunting Grounds."