illustrates this-" And Saul spake to Jonathan, and to all his servants, that they should kill David. But Jonathan, Saul's son, delighted much in David and Jonathan told David, saying, Saul my father seeketh to kill thee: now therefore I pray thee, take heed to thyself until the morning, and abide in a secret place, and hide thyself. And I will go out and stand beside my father in the field where thou art: and I will commune with my father of thee, and what I see, that I will tell thee. And Jonathan spake good of David unto Saul his father, and said unto him, Let not the king sin against his servant, against David; because he hath not sinned against thee, and because his works have been to thee-ward very good. For he did put his life in his hand, and slew the Philistine, and the Lord wrought a great salvation for all Israel: thou sawest it, and didst rejoice : wherefore then wilt thou sin against innocent blood, to slay David without a cause? And Saul hearkened unto the voice of Jonathan: and Saul sware, As the Lord liveth he shall not be slain. And Jonathan called David, and Jonathan shewed him all those things. And Jonathan brought David to Saul, and he was in his presence as in times past."

With a heart that could appreciate, David had also the ability to set forth the worth of his friend. How noble and how beautiful is his funeral lamentation! After bewailing the disgrace, and extol

ling the valour and general success of the royal father and son, and their affection for each other, the sense of his individual loss seems to pierce his soul afresh, when he exclaims, "How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!" And when David was established as king over all Israel, he did not in prosperity forget that friend who had stuck closer to him in adversity than a brother, but inquired, "Is there yet any left of the house of Saul, that I may shew him kindness for Jonathan's sake?" He affectionately re-assured the noble-minded Mephibosheth, the son of that prince, by bidding him "Fear not, for I will surely shew thee kindness for Jonathan thy father's sake." And subsequently he fed him at his own table, afforded him a princely maintenance, and saved him from death.

Let us thank God that the curse to which man was subjected by sin, did not wholly wither his social affections. Let us thank him, as for all other earthly blessings, so more especially for our friends and let us cherish that noblest kind of human intercourse, Christian friendship. The more we experimentally know of this exalted and tender sentiment, the better able we shall be to

form some faint notion of the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. The advantages of friendship are always reciprocal, though seldom equal. The person who cherishes a true affection for another, finds an equivalent for all the services which that affection prompts in being loved again.

But when to mental strength and decision is joined devoted and zealous piety, a person of inferior mould who justly estimates his own defects, and values every opportunity of supplying them, will cling to such a friend with redoubled ardour, and inviolable constancy,-regarding him as a monitor, and in some respects as an example, and delighting by frequent intercourse to assimilate his own mind to superior excellence.

But let us imagine the most amiable person in the world in his most amiable mood, and let us suppose that he loves us, and exerts all his abilities to please us; such a being's power over our affections is far inferior to that which the lowest angel's ordinary sentiments of universal charity may soon awaken in our souls.

What then must be the love of God in Jesus Christ! In heaven, if not on earth, we shall cease to regret that we learned our most instructive lessons of human mutability and this world's vanity, from those whom we most tenderly cherished and most fondly loved.

XIV.—ON RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATIONS.

SAVAGE tribes and the least cultivated among civilized men are taught by manual lessons to value a combination of strength: its worth is more generally learnt by mental experiment. In the present day it is so universally acknowledged as to form the characteristic feature of the age.

The spirit of united enterprize has lately been encouraged by the extension of knowledge, by the ingenious discoveries of science and improvements of art. The value of combination is so generally felt as to be tacitly admitted by the majority. Almost all undertakings of magnitude, whether calculated to improve trade, to facilitate communication, or in any way to benefit the property, the bodies, or the souls of men, are now carried on by companies or associations. Conquest and gain have ever been the great incentives to confedera

tion, though benevolence has sometimes formed also a band of union, and superstition has often linked her laborious slaves in bonds of iron. Hers were the crusades; the only simultaneous enterprize in which the European nations ever engaged, and to which they sacrificed the lives of more than two millions of professing Christians; perhaps of as many Mahometans.

National as well as personal feeling is usually expressed in a way which either accords with the humour of the age, or is suggested by it. We must not therefore glory over the comparative inertness of our ancestors in the missionary work; for the favouring breeze of popular opinion is with us, and it was not with them.

Protestant Societies have now arisen to cope alike with Heathen, Mahometan, and Roman Catholic superstition. Many causes have recently concurred in turning the attention of British Christians towards distant lands.

This is an age of inquiry, an age of activity, and the votaries of religion as well as those of worldly wealth and glory feel the strong current of the times.

A similar impulse to that which fixed the attention of the early philosophers upon objects of distant splendour rather than upon nature's more minute and tangible wonders appears now to ani-mate the religious public.

Imagination always loves better to sketch and