him, rejoices greatly because of the bridegroom's voice; this my joy is fulfilled. He must increase, and I must decrease.” Is this sentiment of disinterested love, as we see it displayed in John the Baptist, and in the friend of David, is it only the fruit of a cultivated mind and a matured character? I knew two little children, both very sick, lying in the same room, and eagerly asking for something to drink to allay their feverish thirst. The anxious mother, fearing that a compliance with their request might hurt the little ones, refused their prayer; till at last, by the physician's advice, the object of their eager entreaty, the cup of cold water, was handed to the youngest and sickest of the children. "Thank you, dear mother," said the little girl, "but first give it to Willie ! " That power within, which enabled a little sick child to restrain the fierce cravings of a fever which no medical skill could arrest, was it a whim of the moment, or the mechanical repetition of a well-learned lesson of politeness, or was it the same spirit that enabled the Saviour on the cross to fix his agonized attention upon those who stood at its foot; and instead of seeking relief for himself in death, and in commending his spirit to God, to exact from shrinking nature a last service, to establish a filial and maternal union between his mother and the disciple whom Jesus loved. Enough has been said of the character of friendship. Let us now consider some of its chief duties.

The first duty of friendship is that which constitutes also one of the prime qualities of the diamond. I

mean not its solidity, nor its brilliancy, but its perfect transparency. Thus the first duty of friendship is transparency, that is, truth, unvarnished, uncompromising, undaunted truth. It requires courage to speak unwelcome truth to our enemies; but a much higher courage is required for speaking truth, painful truth, to our friends. Yet the first proof of a true friend, of one that loveth at all times, is this, that he speaks the truth at all times.

It is a true saying, that "faithful are the wounds of a friend," the wounds made by a faithful surgeon, to remove the latent poison that is corroding the character. "Bear and forbear" is indeed an excellent maxim to restrain the complaints and upbraidings of wounded self-love; but the maxim was certainly not intended to induce us to suffer our brother to sin without reproof. It is true, where there is a reasonable hope, that the mind which has lost its balance will ere long recover it by its own effort, it is kinder as well as wiser to withhold than to lend unnecessary help. It is true also, that while passion speaks so strong and loud that reason would not find a hearing, it is the part of a wise friend to wait in silence, hoping that conscience will awake at length, and command the storm to be still. But if the watchman within the gates should sleep on his post, the sentinel without betrays his trust if he too keeps his peace, or if he cries peace when there is no peace. I am aware of the danger connected with such unlimited freedom of mutual reproof. I am aware of the inconsiderate haste of human passion, and of the artful

mimickry of self-love, which would lead us to mis- take the fire of indignation, excited by the faults of others, for the generous kindling of the love of truth and justice, when it is in reality the effect of secret resentment, or of a censorious temper, or of overweening, officious vanity. These dangers, together with the love of ease and the fear of giving pain, have induced some persons who live in the closest intimacy to give up altogether the great christian duty of mutual reproof. They keep up a kind of artificial credit system, where all is fair and satisfactory on the outside, but the continuation of which requires that neither of the parties should ever know, or inquire, whether this promising appearance be indeed the representative of hidden treasures of love, or the miserable attempt at hiding, under the smiles of complacency, a bankrupt heart. Surely there is less of misery and real danger in the storms of passion than in the dead calm of a mutual, heartless complacency.

Let the truth be spoken in love, but rather let it burst forth in anger, than be stifled by fear and base deceit.

I say, then, the first duty of friendship consists in trying to see our friends as they are, and to appear to them as we are. The portrait painter who would seize the real features of the human countenance, and transfer them faithfully to the canvass, chooses the calm light of a northern aspect. And he who would see clearly what he loves most fervently, and wishes to possess himself of a correct and indelible likeness of the real object of his affection, must choose the calm

northern aspect of truth in which to study the inward countenance of his friend.

The second great duty of friendship is faith, that is, constancy in our own attachments, and trust in the constancy of our friend.

SERMON XXV.

PHILIPPIANS iv. 8.

"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."

I INTEND, in this discourse, to speak of some of those moral graces, which are enumerated in my text, with particular reference to the duties of justice and kindness; and I shall mention some offences, which seem to be opposed more to the spirit than to the letter of these duties, and are therefore less frequently noticed, and made the subject of moral reformation.

Justice is that fundamental virtue, without which men cannot exist together in society. It consists, chiefly, in the exercise of our rights and duties as men and as citizens. But the spirit of justice is not confined to the exercise of our social privileges and obligations. It was justice, true Christian justice, which pronounced the widow's mite a far richer gift than all the offerings of the rich men. It was justice that decided between the boasting righteousness of the Pharisee, and the humble penitence of the Publican. It was the voice of justice that called little children