FRIENDSHIP. 221 



the tasks of life, a thoughtful gaiety and smiling forti- 

 tude, attest the genial firmness with which he now 

 wields the sceptre of his mental realm. 



A letter to Ross, dated May, 1828, bears some 

 reflection of the peace and clearness to which he had 

 attained. This letter, indeed, does much to compensate 

 for the loss of which we had to complain in last 

 chapter. 



' I was employed in the church-yard in hewing a 

 tombstone, at which, as I wrought late and hard, I 

 fatigued myself considerably, when my cousin George 

 Munro brought me your letter. There was scarce light 

 enough to read it, the evening had so far advanced ; the 

 little I did decipher of it, however, acted upon me as a 

 spell. I forgot the labours of the past day, and, in 

 short, everything except that I was happy in my friend, 

 and had much cause of gratitude to my God. Surely the 

 best of His gifts, if we except the great gift of the Son 

 and the Spirit, is a true Friend ! Everything temporal 

 must decay and perish. The soul, if it dwells long in 

 the body, must see many of the things of the material 

 world, upon which it puts a value, because it deems 

 them conducive or essential to its happiness, dropping 

 away, or so changing as to be no longer matters of 

 comfort or use. Even supposing them of a less tran- 

 sient or changeable nature, it is certain they are com- 

 pletely lost to the soul when it separates from the body, 

 that piece of earth being the ^ only medium through 

 which it can enjoy them. It is not thus with friend- 

 ship. The soul cannot decay, and we have assurance 

 from Scripture, that that which we term death is not to 

 those who love God a death to affection. I trust that 

 in the friend to whom I now write, I have one whom I 

 will love and by whom I shall be beloved for ever. Is 



