sickness at the heart as they go, for by long habit they have grown up into friends-the garments are scantier the lines deepen upon the furrowed countenance. They sit broken-spirited and desponding, for their heart is melted within them because of trouble. One by one the articles of furniture disappear, until in extremest desolation the picture of the poet is realized

"A shattered roof-a naked floor

A table-a broken chair

And a wall so blank, their shadow they thank
For sometimes falling there."

Then sickness comes. The fever follows hard upon the famine. Through the noisome court the hot blast sweeps and the pure air flees away at its presence. The comfort is gone-the strength is gone-the hope is gone. Death has nothing to do but to take possession. They have neither power nor will to resist him. Not hopeful-but sadly, strangely, terribly indifferent -they await his approach. And if you tell them of their danger, they might answer in the strong words of the gentle spirit from whom we quoted before

"But why do you talk of death

That phantom of grisly bone?
I hardly fear his terrible shape-
It seems so like my own."

And this is no fancy sketch, or midnight dream. There are homes of your fellow-countrymen, where the ruin is in progress to-day.

And now, brethren, what shall I more say? Putting aside didactic teaching, I have endeavoured to address you in one earnest and prolonged appeal. I have

based the claim of those for whom I plead on their common relationship, and on Divine commendation and command.

I have shown that God regards it as a spiritual service to give bread to the hungry-and "pure religion" I to visit the fatherless and widows." I have tried to bring before you the circumstances which make the poor man's lot the heavier. What remains but that we address ourselves to the duty of which we are all convinced, and which presses with so much weight of obligation upon the heart and conscience of us all. Our pity, our philanthropy, our patriotism, our religion, have opportunities of charity to-day.

The institutions for which we plead are noble monuments of Christian beneficence—such as are not reared except under the Gospel's influence. But Christianity has taken the bodies as well as the souls of men under her charge-just as of old the sick were healed by the shadow of Peter passing by. Who but must be proud of our country, when we think of the vast and princely edifices which are our homes of national charity-or when we see the stricken poor crowding to the dispensary gates, and know that philanthropy has purchased for them the skill and the medicine, which they were too poor to buy? Then let our charity flow forth as it ought-undiminished by a solitary misgiving.

There are poor who are suffering. Let us earn the blessing of those who are ready to perish.

There are poor suffering more because they have striven not to show that they suffer

giving"

royally "to charity, by refusing to take from it." Let us show them how high and warm is our appreciation of their generous self-denial.

There are Christ's godly people by thousands in distress and sorrow. Let us show them the reality of our religion that its compassions fail not-and that its bowels of mercies yearn over a brother's trial.

There are infidels amongst these poor, who deny the Lord that bought them, and sneer at the hopes which to many of us are dearer than life. By the magnificence of our charity let us take our nobility of

revenge.

The great duty of this morning is one from which none of you are exempt. God forbid that it should be the offering of the wealthy alone. The rich in their princely offerings-the comfortable in their cheerful sacrifices-the poor themselves in the large luxury of their little givings--we want them all. We await them all. We plead for them all.

Homes desolate because the breadwinner is away— children who have been pinched and pained so long. that they have known nothing of the brightness of childhood—patient women, from whose hollow eyes the worm looks out already-men smitten from their manhood into feebleness-these are our clients. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me "—this is our argument. Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich"-this is our example. She hath done what she could "-this is our measure.

"Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of the Lord shall be thy rereward." "And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not." This shall be the exceeding great reward.

XXXVIII.

CHRISTIAN CITIZENSHIP.

"For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself."-PHIL. iii. 20, 21.

"TELL ELL me, art thou a Roman ?" It is a suspected criminal who is thus addressed by the individual who is charged for the time with the arbitration of his destiny; and, while the cheek of the inquirer is clouded as with the shadow of an apprehended trouble, his eye lights up with a glance of pride and envy“Tell me, art thou a Roman ?" Didst thou step easily into the heritage which it was so costly for me to attain? It was my lifelong ambition to acquire the citizenship; and at length the kindly drachmas countervailed the prejudice of alien birth; but thou, of mean estate and evil fortunes-who seemest to have gathered around thyself the popular hate, and whom I have just sifted by scourging-art thou a fellow-heir of this world's foremost privilege? "With a great sum obtained I this freedom;" did lavish nature favour thee in blood? Then answered Paul-with frankness that was not alloyed by presumption; with the dignity, but not the insolence, of patriotic pride—