in the whole kingdom. Over the long pointer were
written, in large letters of gold, the Latin words, referring to the
hours, "_Pereunt et imputantur_." Literally, the meaning is, "They
perish, and are set down to our account"; or, as they have been
rendered in terser phrase, "They are wasted, and are added to our debt."

It is said that these words on the dial have exerted a wonderful
influence on the boyhood of many of the distinguished men who have
received their training at Oxford, stimulating them to the most
conscientious use of the golden hours as they passed, and bearing fruit
in long lives of earnestness and faithfulness. The lesson is one that
every young person should learn. In youth the hours are full of
privileges. They come like angels, holding in their hands rich
treasures, sent to us from God, which they offer to us; and if we are
laggard or indolent, or if we are too intent on our own little trifles
to give welcome to these heavenly messengers with their heavenly gifts,
they quickly pass on and are gone. And they never come back again to
renew the offer.

On the dial of a clock in the palace of Napoleon at Malmaison, the
maker has put, the words, "_Non nescit reverti_"; "It does not know how
to go backward." It is so of the great clock of Time--it never can be
turned backward. The moments come to us but once; whatever we do with
them we must do as they pass, for they will never come to us again.

Then privilege makes responsibility. We shall have to give account to
God for all that he sends to us by the mystic hands of the passing
hours, and which we refuse or neglect to receive. "They are wasted and
are added to our debt."

The real problem of living, therefore, is how to take what the hours
bring. He who does this, will live nobly and faithfully, and will
fulfil God's plan for his life. The difference in men is not in the
opportunities that come to them, but in their use of their
opportunities. Many people who fail to make much of their life charge
their failure to the lack of opportunities. They look at one who is
continually doing good and beautiful things, or great and noble things,
and think that he is specially favored, that the chances which come to
him for such things are exceptional. Really, however, it is in his
capacity for seeing and accepting what the hours bring of duty or
privilege, that his success lies. Where other men see nothing, he sees
a battle to fight, a duty t