he ten times a king. But more unalterable even than the tide, is the lapse of time. Whatever may be accomplished by human ingenuity to modify the influences of earth and sea, it will always be true that the one thing in Nature absolutely beyond our control is time. Day follows day like the ripples on the sea; years crowd upon years like the breakers on the beach, and every hundredth wave announces with a louder and a deeper roar, that lo! another century hath come and gone. If happy be our lot, time glides with winged feet; if misery be our portion, time lags, 'tis true, but still plods on as inexorably as the thumping engines in the ship's hold, regardless of the suffering passengers above. To the natural man, to the unbeliever, time is a curse. Through this vale of tears it scourges him on like a shrinking slave whither he knoweth not. A century ago, thinks he, what was I; a century hence, where or what shall I be? He loves the world's light and heat, and fain would linger there forever — but no, his enemy, time, hurries him on into a frigid darkness unbroken by a single ray of hope. But not so you, my Christian brethren. The world's strongest power, time, has no such terror for you. Time well spent is for you a guarantee of a happy immortality— it is your key to heaven. You take the slave-driving demon, time, and subdue him into a docile angel to lead you to the Lord. With King Canute you turn to the crucifix, and thankfully declare that this and this alone is the victory which overcometh time and the world — our faith.
