of unchangeable defence. As the cliffs tower above the river that swirls
at their base, and takes centuries to eat the faintest line upon their
shining surface, so the changeless God rises above the stream of time,
of which the brief breakers are human lives, 'sparkling, bursting, borne
away.' They who fasten themselves to that Rock are safe in its
unchangeable strength, God the Unchangeable is the amulet against any
change, that is not growth, in the lives of those who trust Him. Some of
us may recall some great precipice rising above the foliage, which
stands to-day as it did when we were boys, unwasted in its silent
strength, while generations of leaves have opened and withered at its
base, and we have passed from childhood to age. Thus, unaffected by the
transiency that changes all beneath, God rises, the Bock of Ages in whom
we may trust. 'The conies are a feeble folk, but they make their houses
in the rocks.' So our weakness may house itself there and be at rest.

IV. Lastly, note the summons to trust.

We know not whose voice it is that is heard in the last words of my
text, but we know to whose ears it is addressed. It is to all. 'Trust ye
in the Lord for ever.'

Surely, surely the blessed effects of trust, of which we have been
speaking, have a voice of merciful invitation summoning us to exercise
it. The promise of peace appeals to the deepest, though often neglected
and misunderstood, longings of the human heart. Inly we sigh for that
repose.' O dear brethren, if it is true that into our agitated and
struggling lives there may steal, and in them there may abide, this
priceless blessing of a great tranquillity, surely nothing else should
be needed to woo us to accept the conditions and put forth the trust. It
is strange that we should turn away, as we are all tempted to do, from