"Redeem mine hours-the space is brief-
While in my glass the sand-grains shiver,
And measureless thy joy or grief,

When Time and thou shalt part for ever!"

Sir Walter Scott.

Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,
Who danced our infancy upon their knee,
And told our marvelling boyhood legend's store,
Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea-
How are they blotted from the things that be!
How few, all weak and wither'd of their force,
Wait on the verge of dark eternity,

Like stranded wreck, the tide returning hoarse

To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course.-Sir W. Scott.

The footsteps of Time may not be heard when he treads upon roses, but his progress is not less certain: we need not shake his hourglass to make the sands of life flow faster : they keep perpetually diminishing; night and day, asleep or awake, grain by grain our existence dribbles away. We call those happy moments when Time flies most rapidly, forgetting that he is the only winged personage who cannot fly backwards.

- Time darks the sky, time brings the day;
Time glads the heart, time puffs all joys away;
Time builds a city, and o'erthrows a nation,
Time writes a story of their desolation;
Time hath a time when we shall be no more;

Time maketh poor men rich, and rich men poor.

God, who is liberal in all his other gifts and favours, is sparing in the distribution of time, never allowing us to have two moments at command. He gives but the second as he takes away the first, and leaves us in absolute uncertainty whether the third shall be ours or not.-Fenelon.

- Time is the only commodity or gift of which every man has an equal share. We do not, however, like the sly and subtle manner in which it slips away.

The bell strikes one we take no note of time,
But from its loss.-Young.

Time, says Imagination, is an isthmus that rises up between two mighty oceans of a gone and a coming eternity; and every year that passes contracts the still contracting barrier that crumbles away before the dashing of the everlasting waters. Time is a torrent that is hurrying down the bark of man upon its tide of incessant fluctuation, and every year that passes is but another stage of the voyage done; another degree of approximation to that unknown abyss overhung with the shadow of death, to which the stream is still pouring its unreturning waters. It is a giant armed with a wide-sweeping scythe, who strides rapidly across the field of the world, and is mowing down "all flesh as grass;" and every year that passes is but another step of the ruthless destroyer, another circuit of his resistless blade.-What is Time? Experience answers, Time is Change. The pillars of heaven are waxing old and frail; Decay is writing her wrinkles fast and deep upon the brow of earth. Within a few years, existence has sprung into being; childhood blossomed into youth; youth ripened into manhood; manhood decayed into age; and altogether, infancy, childhood, youth, manhood, age, have sunk into the tomb. All elements, earth, air, fire, water, -all thoughts, feelings, passions,all beings, God, angels, demons, men,-have conspired and intertwined their various agencies with endless variety and unceasing duration, to impress upon the mind at every instant that Time is Change. Time is hastening to eternity; Change is ripening into immutability; Mutation is looking forward to the time of the restoration of all things. Roll on, then, thou wheel of nature, to the goal of thy career; moulder, thou feeble isthmus, into the everlasting surges ! Pour out, oh, torrent! the last drop from thy exhausted urn! Accomplish, mighty reaper! as an hireling, thy day! Down, thou last glorious morning, when Time shall be no more, because there shall be no more Change!

With God there is no time, as there is no space. He transcends time and space.

-

- Time's glory is to calm contending kings,
To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light;
To stamp the seal of time in aged things,
To wake the morn, and sentinel the night;

To wrong the wronger till he tender right;
To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours,
And smear with dust their glittering golden towers.
Shakespere.

Time is the cradle of hope, and the grave of existence; and while it deprives beauty of her charms, transfers them to the canvas on which they are delineated.

The sturdy rock, for all his strength,
By raging seas is rent in twain;
The marble stone is pearst at length,
With little drops of drizzling raine;
The ox doth yield unto the yoke,
The steele obeys the hammer stroke.

The stately stagge, that seemes so stout,
By yalping hounds at day is set;
The swiftest bird, that flies about,

Is caught at length in fowler's net;
The greatest fish, in deepest brooke,
Is soon deceived by subtil hooke.

Yea, man himself, unto whose will

All things are bounden to obey,
For all his wit, and worthy skill,

Doth fade at length and fall away;
There nothing is but Time doth waste;
The heavens, the earth, consume at last.

But Virtue sits, triumphing still,

Upon the throne of glorious fame;
Though spiteful death man's body kill,

Yet hurts he not his virtuous name:

By life or death, what so betides,

The state of Virtue never slides.-Anon., 1587.

-Time is given us that we may take care for eternity; and eternity will not be too long to regret the loss of our time, if we have misspent it.

Consider time like the faculties of the mind, a precious estate, that every moment of it well applied is put out to an exorbitant interest. Practise the economy of time; the man who finds time for everything, for punctuality in all the relations of life, for the pleasures of society, and every rational amusement, is he who is most assiduous in the active pursuits of his profession.

- Time is like a creditor, who allows ample space to make up accounts, but is inexorable at last. Time is like a verb that can be used in the present tense. Time, well employed, gives that health and vigour to the soul, which rest and retirement give to the body. Time never sits heavily on us, but when it is badly employed. Time is a grateful frienduse it well, and it never fails to make a suitable requital.

- Time was, is past, thou canst not it recall: Time is, thou hast; employ the portion small: Time future, is not, and may never be :

Time present, is the only time for thee.

Make use of time! the hour that is not used

Is lost, and might have been the luckiest,

Converted to account.-J. S. Knowles.

To the aged an atom, to the youthful a world.--The sceneshifter in the world's drama.

Time and Eternity.

Time, whither dost thou flee ?—

I travel to eternity. .

Eternity, what art thou-say?—

Time past, time present, time to come-to-day.

Titles.

Titles are of no weight with posterity: the name only of a man who has performed great exploits, carries more respect than all the epithets that can be added to it.

Titles are marks of honest men, and wise;
The fool or knave that wears a title, lies.

Tobacco.

PRO.

I love thee, whether thou appearest in the shape of a cigar, or diest away in sweet perfume, enshrined in the meerschaum bowl. I love thee with more than a woman's love! Thou art a companion to me in solitude. I can talk and reason with thee, avoiding loud and obstreperous argument. Thou art a friend to me in trouble, for thou advisest in silence, and consolest with thy calm influence over the perturbed spirit. I know not how thy power has been bestowed upon thee; yet if to harmonize the feelings, to allow the thoughts to spring without control, rising like the white vapour from the cottage hearth on a morning that is sunny and serene; if to impart the sober sadness over the spirit, which inclines to forgive our enemy, that calm philosophy which reconciles us to the ingratitude and knavery of the world, that heavenly contemplation whispering to us, as we look around, that "all is good;" if these be merits, they are thine, most potent weed. What a quiet world would this be, if every one would smoke! I suspect the reason why the fairer sex decry thee is, that thou art the cause of silence.-Captain Marryatt.

CON.

While round the head, the curling vapours roll,

Congenial dimness gathers on the soul,

Till in the end this solemn truth we find

Tobacco lowers each faculty of mind,

Impairs the reason, memory's power destroys,
Dissolves in air imagination's joys;

By slow degrees obscures that heaven-born ray,
That mental sunshine of a purer day,
That brightest gem to fallen mortals given,
A fragment from the diadem of Heaven,-
That power whose eagle vision with a glance
Surveys the range of Nature's vast expanse,-