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 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.