This world is turning on its axis once in four and twenty hours; and, besides that, it is moving round the sun in the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. So that we are all moving; we are flitting along through space. And as we are traveling through space, so we are moving through time at an incalculable rate. Oh! what an idea it is could we grasp it! we are all being carried along as if by a giant angel, with broad outstretched wings; which he flaps to the blast, and, flying before the lightening, makes us ride on the wind. The whole multitude of us are hurring along, --whither, remains to be decided by the test of our faith and the grace of God; but certain it is, we are all traveling. Your pulses each moment beat the funeral marches to the tomb. You are chained to the chariot of rolling time. There is no bridling the steeds, or leaping form the chariot; you must be constantly in motion. by Spurgeon.