"I send you, Sir, a tale about some Feds, Who, in their wisdom, got to loggerheads. The case was this, they felt so flat and sunk, They took a glass together and got drunk. Such things, you know, are neither new nor rare, For some will hary themselves when in despair. It was the natal day of Washington, And that they thought a famous day for fun; For with the learned world it is agreed, The better day the better deed. They talked away, and as the glass went round They grew, in point of wisdom, more profound; For at the bottom of the bottle lies That kind of sense we overlook when wise. Come, here 's a toast, cried one, with roar immense, May none know pleasure who love Common Sense. Bravo! cried some,--no, no! some others cried, But left it to the waiter to decide. I think, said he, the case would be more plain, To leave out Common Sense, and put in Paine. On this a mighty noise arose among This drunken, bawling, senseless throng. Some said that Common Sense was all a curse, That making people wiser made them worse; It learned them to be careful of their purse, And not be laid about like babes at nurse, Nor yet believe in stories upon trust, Which all mankind, to be well governed must; And that the toast was better at the first, And he that did n't think so might be cursed. So on they went, till such a fray arose As all who know what Feds are may suppose." On his way northward, to his old home in Bor-dentown, Paine passed many a remembered spot, but found little or no greeting on his journey. In Baltimore a "New Jerusalemite," as the Sweden-borgian was then called, the Rev. Mr. Hargrove, accosted him with the information that the key to scripture was found, after being lost 4,000 years.