corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on
immortality.' I presume that it has been shown beyond doubt that
the material particles which make up our bodies are in a state
of constant flux, the entire physical nature being changed every
seven years, so that if all the particles which once entered into
the structure of a man of fourscore were reassembled, they would
suffice to make seven or eight bodies. And the manner in which it
is certain that the mortal part of man is dispersed and assimilated
to all the elements furnishes a very striking thought. Bryant has
said, truly and beautifully,

All that tread
The globe, are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.

And James Montgomery, in a poem of his which is little known,
and which is amplified and spoiled in the latest editions of his
works, has suggested to us whither the mortal vestiges of these
untold millions have gone. It is entitled Lines to a Molehill in
a Churchyard.

Tell me, thou dust beneath my feet,--
Thou dust that once hadst breath,--
Tell me, how many mortals meet
In this small hill of death.

The mole, that scoops with curious toil
Her subterranean bed,
Thinks not she plows a human soil,
And mines among the dead.