Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings,
And seems to creep decrepid with his age.
Behold him, when pass'd by; what, then, is seen,
But his broad pinions swifter than the winds?
And all mankind, in contradiction strong,

Rueful, aghast, cry out on his career.
Leave to thy foes these errors, and these ills;
To nature just, their cause and cure explore.
Not short Heav'n's bounty-boundless our expence;
No niggard nature-men are prodigals.

We waste, not use, our time-we breathe, not live.
Time wasted is existence-used is life.
And bare existence, man to live ordain'd,
Wrings and oppresses with enormous weight.
And why, since time was given for use, not waste :
Enjoin'd to fly; with tempest, tide, and stars,
To keep his speed, nor ever wait for man.
Time used was doom'd a pleasure, waste a pain,
That man might feel his error, if unseen;

And feeling, fly to labour for his cure;
Not, blundering, split on idleness for ease.

Life's cares are comforts, such by Heav'n design'd;
He that has none, must make them, or be wretched.
Cares are employments; and without employ
The soul is on the rack-the rack of rest;

To souls most adverse; action all their joy.
Here, then, the riddle, mark'd above, unfolds :
Then time torments, when man turns fool.

YOUNG.

Hark! what sound is that? In such a situation every noise alarms. Solemn and slow it breaks upon the silent air. 'Tis the striking of the clock-designed, one would imagine, to ratify all my serious meditations. Methinks it says amen, and sets a seal to every improving hint. It tells me, that another portion of my ap pointed time is elapsed. One calls it, "the knell of my departed hours." "Tis the watchword to vigilance and activity. It cries in the ear of reason, " Redeem the time. Catch the favourable gales of opportunity. O! catch them while they breathe; before they

are irrecoverably lost. The span of life shortens continually. Thy minutes are all upon the wing, hastening to be gone. Thou art a borderer upon eternity, and making incessant advances to the state thou art contemplating." May the admonition sink deep into an attentive and obedient mind! May it teach me that beavenly arithmetic, of numbering my days, and applying my heart unto wisdom.

Silent I've seen, and with a pitying eye
Your follies mark'd, and unadmonish'd left,
Though tenderly lamenting! Yet, at last,
If haply not too late my friendly call
Strike on deaf ears,-oh! profit by that call!
And to the grave approach, while its alarms
Weigh with me, all considerate! Brief time
Advances quick in tread; few hours and dark
Remain; those hours in frivolous employ
Waste not impertinent; they ne'er return!
Nor deem it dulness to stand still, and pause,
When dread eternity hath claims so high.

Hervey.

Dr. DODD.

Avoid idleness, and always have your minds intent on business or on something useful. Idleness is the nurse of vice. They who mind their business the best are in general the best men. The devil first tempts you to be idle. The idle person is every man's property. Bad company is always at hand. Where idleness inhabits, they resort. Here they corrupt, and here they are corrupted. The contagion spreads, and every bad consequence follows.

There are a number of us creep

Into the world to eat and sleep,

Gilpin's Sermons.

And know no reason why they're born,
But merely to consume the corn,
Devour the cattle, fowl, and fish,
And leave behind an empty dish.
The crows and ravens do the same,
Unlucky birds of hateful name:
Ravens or crows might fill their place,
And swallow corn and carcases.

Then, if their tomb-stone, when they die,
Be n't taught to flatter, and to lie,
There's nothing better will be said,
Than that "The've eat up all their bread,

Drank up their drink, and gone to bed."

WATTS.

Remember, also, that when judgment comes, God will call you to account, both for every hour of your misspent time, and for all the good which you should have done in all that time, and did it not. If you give account for every idle word, much more for every idle hour.

Baxter.

'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours,
And ask them what report they bore to heav'n;
And how they might have borne more welcome news.

YOUNG.

However it may prove an hard saying unto some, yet I must say it, and my heart would reproach me, if I should not say, that if the principal part of our time be not spent about holy things, whatever we suppose, we have indeed neither life nor peace.

Ah! how unjust to nature and himself,

Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man!
Like children babbling nonsense in their sport,
We censure nature for a span too short;
That span, too short, we task as tedious too;
Torture invention, all expedients tire,

To lash the lingering moments into speed,

And whirl us (happy riddance !) from ourselves.

Owen.

YOUNG,

The devil tempts industrious people; but idle people tempt the devil.

Baxter.

Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take any thing from the physician, he lay silent, as far as sudden darts of pain would permit, till the clock struck. Then he with vehemence cried out, "Oh! Time! Time! it is fit thou shouldst thus strike thy murderer to the heart. How art thou fled for ever! A month! Oh, for a single week! I ask not for years, though an age were too little for the much I have to do. So much the worse. 'Tis lost! 'Tis gone ever! Life of Rochester.

for

See where poor indolence reclines,

Lolls, tumbles, stretches, sprawls, and pines!

Life has no pains like that she feels:

A thousand racks, a thousand wheels,
In shape of easy chairs, pursue

The wretch, who knows not what to do.

GILPIN.

Choose and separate a fit time or season, a time of freedom from other occasions and diversions; and because it is our duty to redeem time with respect unto holy duties, such a season may be the more useful, the more the purchase of it stands us in. We are not at any time to serve God with what costs us nought, nor with any time that comes within the same rule; if we will allow only the refuse of our time unto the duty, when we have nothing else to do, and it may be, through weariness of occasions, are fit for nothing else, we are not to expect any great success in it. This is one pregnant reason why men are so cold and formal, so lifeless in spiritual duties; namely, the times and seasons which they allot unto them. Owen. All things are best fulfill'd in their due time, And time there is for all things.

MILTON.

We talk of lost time; but, in one sense at least, no time is lost. Every minute, when past, goes back again to the God who lent it, charged with an account of its use or abuse. An awful truth; yet so little regarded by the great body of mankind, that every day of their lives may be said to be a day of wasted minutes. Yet surely it might be enough to startle the boldest man, if he could be got, for a single day, at certain stated times, to pause and say—“ I have lived, it is true, through so much of the passing day, but to whom, and for what, have I lived? As a being passing through one world and towards another, what preparation have I this day made for the awful change? What do I know of the God who made me, more than I did when the day began? If at the beginning of that life, I had been asked, how I intended to spend my future time; and I had answered, in business, in pleasure, in idleness, in any thing but serving God, should I have pledged myself for any thing which I have not fulfilled? It is true, a part of my life remains behind; but I have no assurance that it will not be spent as the time past has

been. And then Satan will have obtained from me all that his utmost malice could desire: for what can he wish for more, than a life begun, continued, and ended in his service?

Far rather would I in some humble cell,
Distant from all that's gay for ever dwell;
Than waste my flying hours, and thus divide
My time 'twixt folly, calumny, and pride.

Anonymous.

Mrs. Rowe,

A dreadful account must be given of all this lost and wasted time. When the Judge shall ascend his throne in the air, and all the sons and daughters of Adam are brought before him, the grand inquiry will be, What have you done with all the time of life in yonder world? You spent thirty or forty years there, or perhaps seventy or eighty; and I gave you this time, with a thousand opportunities and means of grace and salvation; and what have you done with them all? How many sabbaths did I afford you? How many ser mons have you heard? How many seasons did I give you for prayer and retirement, and converse with God and your own souls? Did you improve time well? Did you pray? Did you converse with your own souls and with God? Or did you suffer time to slide away in a thousand impertinences, and neglect the one thing neces sary?

A fruitless and bitter mourning for the waste and abuse of time will be another consequence of your folly. Whatsoever satisfaction you may take now in passing away time merrily, and without think ing, it must not pass away so for ever. If the approaches of death do not awaken you, judgment will do it. Your consciences will be worried with terrible reflections on your foolish conduct.

Dr. Watts.

God of all worlds! Source and Supreme of things!
From whom all life, from whom duration springs!
Intense, oh let me for thy glory burn,
Nor fruitless view my days and months return.
Give me with wonder at thy works to glow,
To grasp thy vision, and thy truths to know;
O'er life's tempestuous sea to reach thy shore,
To sing thy praise, and all thy grace adore,

When seas shall roll and time shall be no more. Dr. WATTS.