your people, what instruction, warning, reproof or encouragement they need on the coming Sabbath. Nor should you, in ordinary cases, look upon any part of the time which you devote to pastoral visits, as so much taken from your weekly preparations for the pulpit. It must be your own fault, if every day you spend among your people does not furnish matter for one sermon at least.

Moreover, there is nothing like free and affectionate personal conversation to reach the heart and fill the church with attentive hearers. Almost every one can easily escape in a crowd, and hear for others rather than himself; but when he is personally addressed, he cannot help feeling that every word is meant for him; he is thus not only induced punctually to attend public worship, but also prepared by the grace of God "to receive with meekness the ingrafted word which is able to save his soul." In a word, though the active and faithful pastor has the keeping of no man's conscience, he has, what is far better, a place in a thousand hearts, and an intimate knowledge of the character, condition and wants of his people, which place him on the highest vantage ground for doing them good.

The collateral advantages of pastoral visiting are many and highly important. Wherever you go, there are bodies to be fed and clothed, and children to be educated and provided for, as well as souls to be saved; and it would be impossible to estimate the amount of good, which you may do in these respects, particularly to the poor of your flock. They need your counsel as well as your sympathy. By enquiring

into their circumstances, you can give them advice which is sure to be kindly received, and may often be better to them than direct pecuniary relief. You can aid them in getting work and finding good places for their children. If they are vicious, you can trace all their privations to the true source, and tenderly exhort them to "amend their ways and their doings,' as the only way to obtain permanent relief. If they are sober and industrious, you can recommend them to the patronage and charities of the more wealthy families of your congregation. As it is known you have better opportunities than any other man, for acquainting yourself with the wants and afflictions of the lower classes, you will be expected more than any other man to bring their necessities before those who can help them. It pertains to your pastoral office; and if you rightly discharge the duty, the blessings of many who are ready to perish may come upon you. I do not know of a more interesting spectacle within a limited sphere, than to see an affectionate pastor moving about like some guardian angel among the poor and the ignorant of his flock, ministering to their necessities from his own scanty resources, trying to reclaim the idle and the vicious, encouraging the industrious, and making his benign influence felt throughout all their families.

I shall be told, no doubt, that where a congregation is large and scattered over a wide territory, it is impossible for a pastor to visit them as often as he could wish, and this is very true. But by system and perseverance he can do much every year. Nor let him, when he thinks how much time it takes to

visit the remotest families, forget that he often needs the exercise, and that exercise always does us more good, when we have an agreeable object in view, than when we ride or walk merely to escape the penalty of omitting it. If it should sometimes cost you a whole day and a ride on horse-back of twenty miles, to visit two or three families, it may be just the relaxation and fatigue, which you need to preserve your bodily health and your mental vigor.

I am very affectionately, &c.

MY DEAR E.

LETTER XXIII.

trying duties, you will be

I need not tell you, that visiting the sick is an essential branch of pastoral duty, nor that it is one of the most delicate and called upon to discharge. It is no less true of the sick than of the poor, that they are always with us. Were you to remain pastor of the church in Lfor half a century, there would probably be very few weeks during the whole period, in which none would need your sympathies and counsel on the bed of sickness. And however short may be your ministry, you must expect, not only that such calls will be frequent at all seasons of the year, but that there will be times when they will be exceedingly oppressive; seasons when you will want the best health, and "great grace" to sustain and direct you.

When you know that one of your church or congregation is seriously ill, do not wait to be sent for. Call at the house, if you do not remain five minutes. It may not be convenient for the sick man to see you just then; but it will show the interest you feel in him and the family, and will give them an opportunity to invite you to call again. Various causes may deter your people from sending for you, when their friends are taken down, till the case becomes critical or even hopeless. Knowing your many and pressing engagements, they may be unwilling to give you the

trouble. Or they may not be at all aware of any immediate danger, when the physicians are extremely anxious. Or they may feel afraid to have you see their sick friend, lest you should injure him. But when you go of your own accord, they will generally be glad to see you, and hardly ever close the door of the chamber against you. With very few exceptions, they will admit you, when none but the physician and the nurses are allowed to enter. Even where you know your visits are unwelcome, if there should be any such cases, and where you are put off with various excuses, let not this entirely discourage you. Call frequently, and repeat your friendly enquiries. It will do good. The veriest infidel in the land has no shield to ward off such kindness. A few days, even a few hours often work mighty changes. Your third or fourth visit may be very acceptable, may be even earnestly desired, when the first and second were anything but agreeable; and by seizing the favorable opportunity,you may, perhaps, "save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins."

It cannot indeed be expected, that you will immediately hear of every case of sickness in your large congregation, and of course you will often be sent for; but there is something altogether too cold, too professional, in waiting for a messenger, where you know a family is in distress.

Whenever you are sent for, in a case of extreme danger or of anxious enquiry, whether it be by day or by night, whether in storm or in sunshine, and you are able to go out, let nothing hinder you. It is a critical moment. The dying man will soon be in eternity.