proceed by hypocrisy, and end in betrayal. Or if there be sincerity in the outset, it may prove as impotent as childhood, as changeful as autumn winds, or as fleeting as the morning cloud. Or if not destroyed by some trivial offence, or suffered to die of cold neglect, their ties are clipped at length by the shears of fate, and no love or friendship is possible in the everlasting banishment of the unblest.

But amidst all the sad uncertainties of human attachments, how pleasant it is to know that "there is a Friend who sticketh closer than a brother"—a Beloved whose affection is sincere, ardent, unchanging, imperishable—who can neither deceive nor forsake those who have entered into covenant with him—from whom death itself will not divide us, but bring us to a nearer and sweeter fellowship with him than we are capable now of imagining! Enoch walked with God till he was less fit for earth than for heaven, and St. John leaned upon the heart of Jesus till his own pulse beat in unison with the divine. Drawn into this blissful communion, every true disciple becomes one spirit with the Lord. Christ calls his servants friends, receives them into his confidence, and reveals to them the secrets of his kingdom. Not ashamed to own them now, he will confess them hereafter before his Father and the holy angels. "They shall be mine," saith he, "in that day when I make up my jewels." And the happy Bride, dwelling with ineffable delight upon the perfections of her Spouse, and anticipating the fulfilment of his promise when he cometh in his glory, concludes her song of joy with the declaration—"This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem."

What, then, are the conditions on which such intimacy of the soul with Christ is to be established? Nothing is required but what is in the very nature of things necessary. Prophet, Priest and King, he can take into amicable alliance with him only such as respect and honor him in these relations. The prophet cannot be the beloved and the friend of those who refuse to hear his word; nor the priest, of those who reject his sacrifice and intercession; nor the king, of those who are still in arms against his gracious government. We must love him, if we would have his love; we must show ourselves friendly, if we would enjoy his friendship. Having died to redeem us, he ever lives to plead for us, and by a thousand ambassadors he offers us his love and friendship; but, no response on our part, no sympathy or co-operation, how can we call him our beloved and our friend? "Can two walk together except they be agreed?" There must be reconciliation and assimilation. We must submit to Christ's authority, and co-operate with his mercy. We must love what he loves, and hate what he hates. His friends must be our friends, and his enemies our enemies. The world, the flesh, and the devil, we must for his sake renounce; reckoning ourselves dead indeed unto sin, and alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord. Does not St. Paul tell us that as many as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ?[2] What does he mean? That in baptism we not only enter into covenant with Christ, but also assume his character, and profess our serious purpose to walk as he walked, conformed to his perfect example, and governed by the same divine principles. As when one puts on the peculiar habit of the Benedictines or the Franciscans, he declares his intention to obey the rules and copy the life of St. Benedict or St. Francis, the founders of those orders; so, in putting on the Christian habit when you are baptized, you avow yourself the disciple of Christ, and openly declare your death thenceforth to sin and your new birth to righteousness. And without any thing in your heart and life corresponding to such a reality, how can you say of Jesus—"This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem!"

But where there are no attractive qualities, there can be neither love nor friendship. Something there must be to inspire affection and confidence. In our divine Beloved resides every mental grace and every moral virtue. Our heavenly Friend is "the fairest among ten thousand and altogether lovely." Of the excellency of Christ all the charms of nature afford but the faintest images, and poetry and eloquence falter in the celebration of his praise. I ask your attention here to a few particulars.

Jesus is always perfectly sincere. With him there are no shams, no mere pretences, no unmeaning utterances of love or friendship. All is real, all is most significant, and there are depths in his heart which no line but God's can fathom.

And his ardor is equal to his sincerity. "Behold how he loved him!" said the Jews when they saw him weeping at the tomb of Lazarus. "Behold how he loveth them!" say the angels when they witness the far more wonderful manifestations of his friendship for the saints. Let the profane speak of Damon and Pythias, and the pious talk of David and Jonathan; there is no other heart like that of Jesus Christ, no other bond so strong as that which binds him to his disciples.

And his disinterestedness is commensurate with his ardor. In human friendships we often detect some selfish end; Christ seeks not his own glory or profit, but sacrifices himself for our salvation. No earthly affection is greater than that which lays down life for a friend; Christ died for us while we were yet enemies, upon the cross prayed for those who nailed him there, and from the throne still offers eternal life to those who are constantly crucifying him afresh and putting him to open shame. And in all his gracious fellowship with those who love him, it is their good he seeks, their honor he consults, their great and endless comfort he wishes to secure.

And not less wonderful are his patience and forbearance toward them. How meekly he endured the imperfections of the chosen twelve as long as he remained with them in the flesh! How tenderly he bore their misconceptions of his purpose, their misconstructions of his language, their fierce and fiery tempers, their slowness of heart to believe! How beautifully his patience carried him through all his life of suffering, and sustained him in the bitter anguish of the cross! And since his return to heaven, how often, and in how many ways, have his redeemed people put his forbearance to the proof! Try any other friend as you try Jesus, and see how long he will endure it. But our divine Beloved will not faint nor be weary, till he have accomplished in us his work of grace, and brought us in safety to his Father's house.

And who ever matched him in beneficence and bounty? "He is able," saith the apostle, "to do exceeding abundantly above all we ask or think." His ability is as large as his love, and that is immeasurable and inconceivable. Other friends, loving us sincerely, may want power to help us; he hath all power in heaven and earth. They may be far away in the time of need; he saith—"Lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." As the vine gives its life to the branches, as the shepherd gives his time and care to the sheep, as the monarch gives riches and honors to his favorites, as the royal spouse gives himself and all he has to his chosen bride, so gives Christ to his elect, making them joint-heirs with himself to all that he inherits as the only begotten Son of God—unspeakable grace now, eternal glory hereafter! "All things are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's!"

And what confiding intimacy find we in this heavenly friendship! The father, the brother, the husband, live in the same house, occupy the same room, eat and drink at the same table, with their beloved; Christ comes into our hearts, takes up his abode there, and feasts with us, and we with him. "Shall I hide from Abraham," said Jehovah, "the thing that I do?" "therefore Abraham was called the friend of God." "The secret of