No. XIV.

"He tries each art, reproves each dull delay, Allures to brighter worlds, and leads the way."

Ir is no uncommon thing for men, when brought under the sound of an experimental, heart-searching ministry, to be not only convinced of their sins, but also to feel anger and astonishment, under the persuasion that some one has previously been to the minister and made him acquainted with the leading features of their past character and conduct. "If not," they exclaim, "how could he have known so much of us?" Now, should any reader put the same question, let him know, that the minister who thus, through the Divine blessing, finds his way to the conscience, and lays open much of the heart and actions of his hearers, is one who considers it his duty to study mankind, and to read human nature not merely in books, but among living characters. He associates himself, as far as possible, with those around him; looks into the passing scenes of the day, endeavours to obtain a general knowledge of his people's character, and of the various modes by which they earn their daily bread: the nature of husbandry, of a manufactory, of a lead or coal mine, or whatever may principally occupy the time and thoughts of his flock, he considers quite worth his attention, so as to be able to

converse with the idle, the ignorant, the skilful, and the industrious, in a way that shows he has a knowledge of those various subjects which they are most familiar with; and that his wisdom is not confined merely to the Bible, nor his profitable conversation exclusively to pulpit discourses. He endeavours to impress the minds of his people with this important subject-namely, that he not only shall be at all times happy to counsel and instruct them, but that he really is competent to do so in most or in all of those matters which can call for such assistance. He is well aware that the idle and designing part of a parish are always ready to impose on a goodnatured minister, with the most ridiculous and hypocritical relations, if they find him unacquainted with the nature of the subject. Nor is this all; they will absolutely ridicule the goodnatured man behind his back, for his ignorance, and tell, with no small degree of pleasure and vanity, how they have imposed on him by shunning his observation, or by making him believe what they knew to be false, either respecting their work, their circumstances, their health, their trials, or their difficulties, which very often their own bad conduct has brought on them. Hence the useful pastor makes himself acquainted with these matters, that he may, in his domestic visits, in his private conversations, and in his public discourses aim the weapons of his warfare against those follies, sins, and strong-holds of Satan which require to be most seriously attacked. And he who does not thus act and study mankind is not very likely to succeed, as

a village pastor, in his public administrations, however closely he may exercise his intellectual faculties in his study. Nay, it is quite possible for one who is a most accomplished scholar and a profound critic, to be a very ineffective village pastor. With great literary talents, and with a sincere desire of doing good, he may do very little among his parishioners from the mere want of this sort of training and fitness, which no college or application to books can furnish. The village pastor should not only be a divine, but a man of business; have, not only a classical mind, but a mind that can stoop to and understand many unclassical subjects, and grapple with the hypocrite and deceiver in his labours abroad and in his retirements at home, as well as sympathise and pray with the afflicted, and sick, and dying, of different descriptions. Very often it happens, that the country clergyman is the only individual in the whole parish to whom any one can look up to with any prospect of success when difficulties arise. And should he either hold himself aloof from his people, or not be familiar with all the surrounding circumstances of his flock, he will lose many an opportunity of being useful to their souls.

So convinced was the writer of the great importance of this kind of training, that it was his aim to learn all he could in this way from the first day his mind was directed to the work of the ministry up to the period wherein he took on him that solemn office: and every year that has since passed over his head has served to confirm him in the correctness of these impres

sions, and has most fully convinced him that, with a view of usefulness among a rustic or country people, the minister must go in and out among his flock, and become familiar with common place life, and all the dull unclassical reality of men and things as they are. To such habits and information he may add as much of the gentleman and scholar as he pleases, as much of the scholastic divine and man of critical taste for books and composition as he can; but let him not for one moment imagine that the latter qualifications will render the former unnecessary or out of place.

It was the writer's privilege to sojourn with some wise and good men during his preparation for the ministry; men who read their Bibles at home, and then read mankind abroad, and more especially within the range of their ministerial labours. On many occasions he accompanied them in their rounds of visiting the sick and admonishing the healthy: and he soon found that a diversity of character and a variation of circumstances were daily presenting themselves on a scale far beyond all his former conceptions.

Should any reader wish to retrace with the writer some of those hours, and review what then passed before his eyes, they may peruse the following sketches as strictly matters of fact, taken from real life, which, although they are neither new in the world nor romantic in their nature, will serve to shew some things that may be worthy of imitating, and some that it is desirous of avoiding, as well as exhibit a part

of the village pastor's pursuits, encouragements and trials in the prosecution of his ministerial duties.

It was in the lovely season of the spring, when my friend Erastus informed me that he was going rather a long ride, and in a direction that was new to me. When the family had breakfasted, and some sick poor had been supplied with articles from the family medicinechest, we mounted our horses, and after riding a mile on the public road, left it, and proceeded along a winding rural lane, cheered with the singing of birds, and regaled with the sweets of wild roses and honeysuckles on either hand. My friend seemed thoughtful; and I felt unwilling to break in by untimely conversation, on those meditations which, I doubted not, the business of our journey and the various circumstances of the different objects of his attention gave rise to. Indeed, something of the importance of such a mission struck my own mind, and I felt the justness of the Apostle's words, "Who is sufficient for these things?" as implying man's total insufficiency in himself to say or to do any thing really good or useful. By and by we came to a cottage, which stood in an orchard, a little way out of the lane. A child was at the door, who, observing us alight and hang our horses to the fence, ran in and gave the alarm to its grandmother. On entering the cottage the old woman presented herself, and exhibited a neat and respectable figure, such as one would wish all our cottage matrons to exhibit. Her looks and her words expressed her