Washington, March, 1845.
The sun-dial seems too classic an object, and too serious a teacher, to bear a jesting motto. This sober pun was often seen:—
LIFE'S BUT A SHADOWE
MAN'S BUT DUST
THIS DYALL SAYES
DY ALL WE MUST.
Sun-dial in Garden of Grace Church Rectory, New York.
The sun-dial does not lure to "idle dalliance." Nine-tenths of the sun-dial mottoes tersely warn you not to linger, to haste away, that time is fleeting, and your hours are numbered, and therefore to "be about your business." In a single moment and at a single glance the sun-dial has said its lesson, has told its absolute message, and there is no reason for you to gaze at it longer. Its very position, too, in the unshaded rays of the sun, does not invite you to long companionship, as do the shady lengths of a pergola, or a green orchard seat. Still, I would ever have a garden seat near a sun-dial, especially when it is a work of art to be studied, and with mottoes to be remembered. For even in hurrying America the sun-dial seems—like a guide-post—a half-human thing, for which we can feel an almost personal interest.
