Clearfield Republican. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1851-1937, 1869-10-13

conVlcllOn OF tue uncefthlntyO lnlnpS,
and is known to have rebukod n iovial
party for appointing a future picnic,
without rejecting that they might all
be in their graves before the day ar
rived. She tells her friends that life
is thread, snapped in an instant. She
has lately advertised for situation as
a cheerful companion to a nervous or
hypochondriacal person.
And now letus stop another passen.
ger in the great thoroughfarc of the
world. Care has tattooed his face
terribly, lines intersect every inch OF
his forehead his eyes lie back from
the daylight, under his puckered brow /;
coarse lines ramhle about his mouth I;
we linger no longer over the picture (:
he has fought great, stern battle
with the world, and has lost. The
honey Of his youth nature has turned
to gall. He has not a smile left for
any of us. Well, not a few of these
stern men pace our London streets,
with sixty years upon their shoulders,
and empty purses in their pockets.
They are men who have prospered in
the beginning, and failed in the end
And they whisper in the ears of the
flushed youths who hasten past thpm
in the great struggle, words of sad
import-syllables that slacken the
vigor of young blood often. Life, our
tattooed friend declares, is n hideous
nightmare. Toll, and fret, and woe,
encompassing us all, at every step We
advance, only bid us farewell when
the sexton takes us in hand.
Not BY any two of us, in short--not
by the bride and bridegroom at Gods
alter-is the question answerablc in
the same phrase. We have letter
from an old-fashioncd friend of ours,
who has adopted IN answer to the
question under discussion, as his seal.
A vessel (whether brig or schooner
the engraver has not allowed us to
determine) is rolling tremendously
upon a red cornelian sea, so tha. it is
evident TO the most inexperienced
spectator she cannot keep above
water, or above cornelian, many min
utps. Under this terrible picture are
these words-"Such is Life p Life. to
a vast number of persons, is path of
various widths; TO the very serious il
is the narrowest of pa tbs; to the
jocoso, il is a broad and pleasant high
way; TO the young, il IS a green lane,
hedged with flowers, end arched over
with the "crescent-promise" OF the
20 the sceptical, il is maze.
To another crowd of individuals, life
presents itself in various spaces OF
time TO thousands it is brief hour,
and, TO the particularly philosophic, a
second, and no more. An impetuous
friend interposes with his dihnition,
and as it rep esonts, in some way, the
class of answers we should receive
from the numbers who 20 through
life, painting all the way with the
speed Of their progress, we give il:
Life, SAYS our impetuous friend, is a
fash Of tightening.
Tho vexed question has, IN truth so
many answers, that they might fill
thick octave volumes. Every states.
man, every essayist, every philoso-
pher, has had his epigrammatic reply
TO our question. Mr. Carlyle starts
forward with one
"Whatislife? Athawing co-board
On a sea With sunny shore
Gay we suil--it melis beneath u.s.
We aro sunk, and seen no more"
Generally, to assure 1s of Its rapid
extinction have poets written types of
life. According 10 one poet it is ga
sweet delusion J" while another plain
lively asks
"oh life Is al thy song
Endure, and-diey"
Surely, not in any sense can life be
so interpreted for, If it were so, in
vain would the poets song be, snd all
unnotced the midday lark might
make the heavens musical TO us.
Other poetical friends approach with
definitions;
"0ur life Is m idle boat
Along wiuoing river"
Hero o CLEAN of philosophy lights
the burden Idle the boat is, generally,
compared with its capacity for nRvi-
cation, and Little often do we accom-
plish Of the mighty sum OF labor that
lies in the hands of the weakest OF Us !;
but not altogether contemplate are
oug realizations, and il is hardly Tor
us, with ml our weakness of purpose,
to cry aloud, voc and sadness, and
let the boat float errandless and empty
OUT TO sea.
We are fairly besieged with defini-
tions now. Life is a boat, an iceberg,
a muddy stream, a Peligcid river, a
game at chess, the toss of Il coin; a
bubble, comedy, tragedy, a bur-
leeque, poem TO the end, dull pas
sage of prose, an ebbing tide, a sand.
bank, n dream, a fittul fever, &c. 1t
is interpreted by thousand images,
because it is supportable orinsupport.
able, according to the realizations of
each individual. 1t is u dream TO
those who wander through the world
with their hands in their pockets, as
Longicllow infers;
"Tell mo not, in mournful numbers,
Life is hutan empty dream
For the soul Is dead that sumbors.
And things arc not what they seem"
To tic heated speculator, busy with
the rise and fall Of funds, it is the toss
Of a coin, TO the Indifferent, il is q
comedy; TO few indeed, let us hope,
is it dull passage Of prose; and to
fowor still may it be a tragedy; but
may many say with Longtellow
again
Life Is rcal~lfc l. earnest
Ani bur hearts though stout and brave
S,iil, ike mualcd drums are bcating,
Funeral marches TO the grave"
And now wo must close our chapter
of definitions. Not TO doloiel music
would we give our own partioplar
definition but rather to a cheerful
measure, full OF harmnny, touch Of
tenderness here and there, always q
fhoron0hlv corrert and earnest nc-