human friendship so variable, is alteration in worldly circumstances. When competency is exchanged for poverty; when, in the expressive language of Scripture, we are "made low," what a change passes over the little world in which we dwell! That friendship is indeed true and valuable which will stand such a testing-time; for while many gather round us in prosperity, few cleave to us in adversity.

66

The friends who in our sunshine live,
When winter comes are flown."

It is a bitter trial to find ourselves neglected and forsaken, when we are most in need of support and comfort; but it is a sanctified trial if it teaches us that it is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man; if it endears to us that heavenly Friend, who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich. Lowly indeed was his lot on earth: he had not where to lay his head; and his chosen friends and associates were from the humblest ranks of society. It was to "the poor" that he especially proclaimed the blessings of his gospel; and the sarcastic designation of his opponents which styled him "a friend of publicans and sinners," was, in reality, beautifully expressive of his true character.

By his own position in the world; by his mingling chiefly with those who were poor and

despised of men; and by the low and obscure situations in which the majority of his disciples have served him, poverty has been elevated and dignified. Not many noble, not many mighty, does the Saviour call; but he chooses the poor in this world, and makes them heirs. of that glorious kingdom which he has promised to them that love him.

The wealthy and the fashionable may grow cold and distant, when penury and distress enter our home; but Christ makes our season of affliction only the means of drawing us more closely to himself. Our loss of property or income, instead of raising a barrier between him and us, links us more firmly together. He soothes our spirit; sympathizes with our grief; and promises that he will never forsake

us.

Or, it is possible that the natural infirmities of age, and a long-declining state of health, may gradually narrow the circle of our friends. Deafness, or blindness, or sickness, makes our society less attractive than formerly.

It is wearisome, perhaps, to sit beside us, day after day, and strive to interest us; and therefore some who were once warm and even sincere in their professions of attachment to us, grow tired of the society of an aged invalid, and their visits become few and far between. We feel sometimes, when contrasting the present

with the past, that we are forsaken and alone in the world, that we are a burden to ourselves and to others. Old age brings with it a sensitiveness on this point, which occasions much mental disquietude, and frequently produces a fretful and repining spirit.

Let us endeavour, in moments of loneliness and depression, to tranquillize and divert our thoughts by dwelling upon the steadfastness of Christ towards us. He does not cast us off in the time of old age, nor forsake us when our strength fails; he is not weary of listening to the oft-repeated narrative of our wants and ailments, nor reluctant to cheer the solitude of life's evening; but he beautifully fulfils to us his own promise, "Even to hoar hairs will I carry you." As we walk with trembling steps through the valley of the shadow of death; as we miss from our side the friend on whose arm we might have leaned for support and protection; the Saviour bids us fear no evil, because he is with us; his rod and his staff will comfort us; and his presence shall perpetually abide with us. Our weakness and our infirmity may tend to loosen some of our earthly ties, but cannot diminish his kind sympathy with us. Friends may fail us, but he will never

leave us.

And even should our friends prove faithful; should they retain in old age the affection

which they manifested towards us in youth, yet how suddenly and irrevocably may they be parted from us by death. "Our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding." The dearest ones, around whom our affections are so firmly entwined, may soon be summoned into the presence of their Maker, and leave us to tread alone the remainder of our lengthened journey. We may have to see the grave opened for those, whose hands we imagined would tenderly close our eyes at the last. Stay! have we not already seen this? have not the separations of the tomb been painfully realized in our past history? The green hillock-the marble tablet are they not cherished memorials of the departed, who still live in our hearts, and are enshrined in our recollections? More eloquent than the preacher's words, more powerful than the written admonition, are the vacant seats in our households—yes, and at our firesides. Ah! the stern precept, "Cease "Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils; for wherein is he to be accounted of?"* has received frequent and practical illustration in the events of by-gone days. The tolling bell has mournfully reminded us that change and decay are stamped upon all the things of earth; the cypress tree has darkly shadowed forth the solemn truth, that, "In the

* Isa, ii. 22.

midst of life we are in death."* Well, be it so; we will not murmur that God gathers the ripest fruit and the choicest flowers from our gardens, since he gives us himself as our portion. We will not forget, as we sorrow over the dead, that "the Lord liveth!" While thinking of the friends whom the last enemy has snatched from our grasp, we will gratefully remember that Saviour from whom neither

death nor the grave can part us. Around our desolated hearths, and in our solitary eventide, his voice is heard sweetly saying unto us, "Fear not; for I am with thee!Ӡ

Yes, Lord, thou art with us, our firm, our changeless, our undying Friend! "Thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end."t Death cannot divide thee from thy people, for that vanquished foe hath no power over its almighty Conqueror: and it cannot separate them from their Saviour, for its touch will only usher them into his immediate and visible presence.

"There is no death; what seems so, is transition." Oh, we are "persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."§

* Prayer Book.

Isa. xliii. 5.

§ Rom. viii 38, 39.

Psa. cii. 27.