( 8 )
ſtructure.—So frail, ſo very attenuated is the thread of life, that it not only burſts before the ſtorm, but breaks even at a breeze. The moſt common occurrences, thoſe from which we ſuſpect not the leaſt harm, may prove the weapons of our deſtruction. A grape-ſtone, a deſpicable fly, may be more mortal than Goliath, with all his formidable armour. Nay, if God give command, our very comforts become killing. The air we breathe, is our bane! and the food we eat, the vehicle of death.—That laſt enemy has unnumbered avenues for his approach: yea, lies entrenched in our very boſom, and holds his fortreſs in the ſeat of our life. The crimſon fluid, which diſtributes health, is impregnated with the ſeeds of death. Heat may inflame it, or toil oppreſs it, and make it deſtroy the parts it was deſigned to cheriſh. Some unſeen impediment may, obſtruct its paſſage, or ſome unknown violence may divert its courſe; in either of which caſes it acts the part of a poiſonous draught, or a deadly ſtab.
Ah! in what perils is vain life engag'd!
What ſlight neglects what trivial faults deſtroy
The hardieſt frame! Of indolence, of toil,
We die; of want, of ſuperſluity.
The all ſurrounding heav'n, the vital air
Is big with death.
Since then we are ſo liable to be diſpoſſeſſed of this earthly tabernacle, let us look
