.

TRUEMAN. An execrable Triumvirate--a _scandalum magnatum_ to all public
bodies: I suppose they and their adherents are now sitting in Pandemonium,
excogitating their diabolical machinations against us.

LOVEYET. A pack of nonsensical stuff!

TRUEMAN. Harkee, Mr. Loveyet, I will propound a problem to you. We will
suppose there are two parallel lines drawn on this floor, which,
notwithstanding they may be very contiguous to each other, and advance _ad
infinitum_, can never approximate so near as to effect a junction, in which
fundamental axiom all mathematicians profess a perfect congruity and
acquiescence:--now, to elucidate the hypothesis a little, we will suppose
here is one line; and we will further suppose here is another line. [_Draws
his cane over LOVEYET'S feet, which makes him jump._] Now we will suppose
that line is you, and this line is compos'd, form'd, constituted, made up
of discernment, political knowledge, public spirit, and true
republicanism,--but, as I predicated antecedently, _that_ line is
you--[_Striking his cane on LOVEYET'S feet._] You must not forget _that_.

LOVEYET. S'death, sir, do you mean to make a mathematical instrument of me,
to try experiments with?

TRUEMAN. Now take notice--as the East is to the West, the North Pole to the
South ditto, the Georgium Sidus to this terraqueous globe, or the
Aborigines of America to the Columbians of this generation, so is that line
to this line, or Mr. Loveyet to true wisdom and judgment; sometimes
appearing to verge towards a coalition with them, but never to effect it.
There, sir,--in this argument, you have a major, a minor and a conclusion,
consonant to the received principles of logic.

LOVEYET. Confound your senseless comparisons; your problems, your
mathematics, and your Georgium Sidus.

HUMPHRY. Aye, confound your gorgon hydras, I say too.

LOVEYET. Here you have been spending your breath to prove--what?--that I am
not a rational human being, but a mathematical line.

TRUEMAN. I know you are not a mathematical line; you are not the twentieth
part so straight and well made;--I only wish to convince you that the
present government is an _ignis fatuus_ that is leading you and thousands
more to ruin.

LOVEYET. But I don't choose to be convinc'd by you.

TRUEMAN. No more than you'll be convinc'd you are sixty years old, I
suppose.

LOVEYET. Now see there again, see there! isn't this enough to try Job's
patience? I'll let you know that m