The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register., 1824-08-05
SERIOUS REFLEUTIONS.
WHAT is YOUR LIFEl"

| Ask the aged to look back upon the scenes
through which they have passed, upon the
years which they have spent; intrcat them
to tell you in what light they sec thcm-at-
tend to their answer, for with the aged there
is wisdom. What is it they reply! They
confirm the oracles of God. The wcaver's
shuttle they say, is not more swift, the shoot
| ing star is not more nomentary, cvancsccnt
and unreal. Some of you may consult your
children instead of advising your fathers !;
and all may ask your brethren, if time be
not very short. The registers of the dead
are not unfaithful; they cannot err they
are not interested /; consult then the regis
ter of the dead. Look upon the tombs-are
their inhabitants all old No-not all. Ma
ny? No--not many. Babes there are, who
have been born to weep and die babes there
arc, who in all their sportvc innocence, have
gone down to the grave youths there arc,
who in their gaycst hours and amidst the
most plcasurablc scenes, have been recalled
to lie down in darkness and the dust Num-
bers too arc there, who, in the pride of man
hood, the maturity Of life, in the full career
Of business and of hope, have been eased
of all their anXietes and defeated of all their
expectations, and fast bound in the fcttcrs of
death. The young lie thick as dew drops
on the ground, here and there only do we
find a monument erected upon years and
wisdom we wonder when we find it, and
yet this our wonder does not cure us of our
security and confidence. Perhaps even now
the scythc of time is lifted to cut down those
who little think of it, who are expecting the
departure Of their friends, or preparing to
carry their fathers to the tomb. To-mor-
row, that idol deity, in which the world have
agreed to place their trust tomorrow, that
hair-spun thread on which they hang the
weighty ccncernments of eternity What is
tomorrow? No part of our possessions, no
great chain of duration, but perhaps no part
of our present being. Clear, and bright and
steady, as it shines to-day, some sudden blast
may blow out the lamp of life-and to-mor-
pany and settles us in other scenes. Boast
not of tomorrow, till you have unrolled the
book of fate, and learnt what to day shall
bring forth.-Last night, it is probable, ma
ny gay youth threw himself on the bed
whence he shall rise no more: and many a
busy head rcposcd itself upon that pillow,
where it shall sleep now and take its rest.
How sad and serious are many now, who,
but last night, were giddy, thoughtless, pre-
sumptuous and vain; how terrible has this
tomorrow proved to many, who but yester-
day said unto themselves, that it was yet soon
enough to repent and be converted. Thou
fool, this night thy soul shall be required of
thee = was severe yet a gracious warning.
In every breeze that blows there is flight
of human fates; in every breath we breathe,
we drink in the deadly poison-cvery hour
we stand in jeopardy; then every man in his
best estate is altogether vanity. In every
walk VIC take death treads upon our steps !;
he watches us in our retircmcnts, he follows
us in our business; he minglcs with the an
gels that stand round our beds; in that very
moment when our hearts are most attached
to this world-ln that very moment when
We arc least apprehensiyc of fate, then the
tyrant springs upon his prey, rejoicing to add
to his native horrors the necessary tcrrors of
surprise.-In the midst OF life we are in dan
ger of some fatal blight--in the highest health
we may be nearest to some mortal malady.
What then is your life! Is it not a fceting
cloud, an cvaporating smoke, an exploding
meteor, painted bubble.-Break, the bub- -
BILE muslin it's greatest beauty it will break,
and it may break ere night.