friend, let us in imagination retrace the blessed intercourse held by Jesus with his apostles, when having spoken in parables to the multitude, he condescended afterwards, alone with the twelve, to answer all their questions, to explain their difficulties, to teach as none else could teach, to open their understanding to receive his doctrine, and to make their hearts burn within them with gratitude and love.

If no express scriptural command had enjoined them, it would be evident that what exposed the Christian to so many dangers and afforded him so many privileges, must also imply duties.

Religious and edifying conversation is frequently recommended in the Bible; and believers are often exhorted to its use as a means of mutual instruction and comfort, a witness for God in a world that knows him not, and a fearless ascription of glory to him.

An excessive delicacy of feeling, a kind of false shame, will often prevent one who is sincerely bent on trying to obtain benefit in social converse from attempting by the like means to do good to others. Yet when he considers how much his own heart has sometimes been moved by a few casual words, of which perhaps the speaker thought no more, he is encouraged to hope that some which he may utter will likewise bear blessings to other men. If one or other seems to scorn him, perhaps that appearance is only assumed, to hide a stricken

conscience. The ear contemptuously turned away may be that into which the words of instruction are really sinking down. There is always good hope of usefulness when the secret whisper of prayer accompanies the meek exhortation of Christian love.

XIII. ON FRIENDSHIP.

WHEN enjoying the society, and rejoicing in the cordial kindness of some beloved friend, it is well to cherish the thought: God has put into his heart all this tenderness for me: my friend is but the pleasant minister of his mercies. God, who gave me loving parents and kindred, and has inclined towards me, one by one, all the dear friends who are as the flowers and birds gladdening my daily life," God is love," he can teach his saints and angels to love me, and all the affection and tenderness I have ever experienced, or can ever know, is only an emanation from his infinite goodness. When vexed by instances of passion, waywardness, and selfishness in those we love, or under the painful experience of their unwillingness, or inability to aid us in distress, how cheering is it to reflect, that the anchor of our hope is not thrown out at the mercy of the waves of human inconstancy, not cast among the yielding sands of mortal weakness, but that it is securely fixed upon the Rock of ages.

There are many exciting causes of friendship, and natural affection is one of them. Among God's great and manifold mercies it is not the least, that each individual born into this selfish, sinful world, is provided with protectors whose hearts he has touched with kindness for the helpless dependent on their care. By casting men into families, divine Providence has set every person in a circle of friends, whom he is naturally inclined, and morally influenced to love.

To the Christian, whose hope of immortality is sure and stedfast, this reflection affords cheering prospects of a future state of being. That gracious God, who, in this world, has suited man's external condition to his nature, and thus secured his comfort and enjoyment, will certainly fit the Christian for the place he is to occupy in heaven, and make the exquisite concord of his capacities and circumstances a source of inconceivable blessedness. Brethren seem born to be friends, and many causes concur with natural affection to make them such. Family enmity and family indifference are branded, even by the worldly and irreligious, as unnatural.

Natural sympathy is another source of friendship, and it is one of extraordinary power. Attachments which have endured the wear of time, and the shocks of trouble, originated perhaps in the casual acquaintance, and apparently causeless affection, of an hour. But however it may

commence, the character of true friendship is the same, it is affectionate, generous, and devoted. Kindly and noble hearts will often attract each other by a sort of magnetism. Reciprocal obligations sometimes produce friendship. Such services and their dates may be æras in the history of our lives, and their recollection can kindle into fervour that affection which arose on their performance, and is still steadily augmenting in power. But independently of things thus important, unmarked and silently amid the daily intercourse of social life, reciprocal kindnesses are weaving hearts together with bands, which, though composed of innumerable, and scarcely perceptible fibres, are yet so curiously and firmly wrought, that neither time nor force can untwine or break them. We cannot estimate their strength until a day of trial shall come.

Friendship seems to be the natural effect of habitual society, when no counteractive power is in exercise. We may conceive a strong affection for an amiable, though insipid person; while a nobler and more useful character by occasional sallies of passion, will repel our kindly feelings.

Similarity of pursuit, by bringing minds into contact, often elicits friendship. If there be but one or two points of unison in taste and sympathy, friendship may arise and continue between persons the most opposite in their general character. Devoid of corner-stones, no fabric can stand, and