VISITING.

"TO-MORROW is my visiting morning," said a young friend, with whom I was passing a few weeks. Accordingly, when the morrow came, I put on one of my neatest morning dresses, and prepared myself for a round of calls; of which I expected some to be tedious, some entertaining, and scarcely any at all profitable. My comprehension, however, began to clear, when I saw Louisa put some neatly covered tracts in a black silk bag, and heard two or three of the questions she was asking: "Mamma, what can I say to that poor thoughtless girl, Betsy? I fear she has very little longer to live; can you tell me of any short awakening book?” "What time will the broth be ready, cook; and for how many will there be sufficient? Caroline, may widow Bond, have the piece of flannel you had to spare? it would be such a comfort over her chest." When all was settled, Louisa joined me, and we set forth. How often since, have I looked back upon that morning, as on a precious seed-time; which, I trust, has borne some fruit in after-years. It was then I beheld a lovely example, and resolved, by divine grace, to copy it.

Sweet, animated, and cheerful, though never trifling, was the expression of countenance, with which my friend passed from cottage to cottage. When the eye saw her, it seemed to bless her; and the ear to bear witness to her. In most of the visits, her aim was to do good; and I could not but admire her wisdom and firmness, her humility and gentleness. The influence she had acquired astonished me. Not that she ever condescended to such familiar jokes, or artful attempts to please, as are sometimes resorted to; and through which the poor can always see. Indeed, they far better suit the purpose of those who mean to cajole, than of friends who wish to benefit them. In Christian simplicity and sincerity, therefore, Louisa advised, reproved, or encouraged. And many were the promises she received. From one, that the children should be sent regularly to school; from another, that the cleanliness which resulted from a mop and broom with which she had presented them, should be continued; from a third, that she would endeavor to shut up her shop, and keep holy the Sabbath-day. "And now," said my friend, "we must turn to poor Betsy's.' We accordingly soon found ourselves by the bed of the young "How are you, Betsy ?" enquired her kind visitor.

woman.

"Very ill indeed, ma'am. I have caught a fresh cold; and I fear it will be some days before I get the better of it. It has increased my cough sadly, and that brings the pain in my side, and fever; and then those weakening perspirations always follow. But the weather is settled now, so when I lose this cold, I hope I shall get on."

"I fear it is not cold exactly," rejoined Louisa, "but the progress of your complaint. When we look back to the beginning of your illness, how gradually, yet how greatly has it increased. I shall rejoice, Betsy, if the warm weather prove the means of restoring you; and I pray that it may, if consistent with the will of God. But there is something else, for which I pray with far more anxiety. What do you think it is?"

Betsy was silent. "It is the salvation of your soul, my poor young friend. Suppose your life in this world should be near its close, on what world would your spirit enter; on one of endless joy, or endless woe? Our bodies are frail even in health and we know not how soon we may he called to leave them: when sickness therefore makes them totter; surely we should receive the warning, and enquire, whither am I going?""

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The poor girl turned pale, but presently replied, “Hannah Edith, ma'am, was worse than I am, and recovered."

“I know Hannah was very ill, dear, yet our heavenly Father restored her; and I know he can restore you, if he see good. But the great thing is to be prepared for whatever he is pleased to appoint: to seek pardoning mercy now, in the name of his dear Son; and the renewal of your heart by the power of the Holy Spirit. Then your happiness is secured for both worlds; either life or death will prove a blessing; and the Lord will be your Father and friend for ever. Now if such were your privilege, suppose you should be raised up to reach even the age of seventy years; would you think it a pity, that sickness had in early life, been blessed to your conversion? Rather, would it not please you to look back and see, that your whole life had been given up to God; would you not acknowledge, the ways of religion to have been ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace?"

The tears stood in Betsy's eyes, while she humbly and earnestly asked, "will you pray with me, Miss?"

"Yes, willingly. I daily pray for you, Betsy; and we do not

forget you in the school. Last Sunday also, as you know, Mr. Forster requested the prayers of the congregation in your behalf. So that I may truly say,

"For you the public prayer is made;

O join the public prayer!

For you the secret tear is shed;

O shed yourself a tear."

On leaving the cottage, we walked for a few minutes in silence, till coming within sight of another, my companion exclaimed, smiling, "well Anna, you have gone through the labour with me, now you shall share the reward. To my next places I go to get

good."

In the first of these humble dwellings, was an aged woman, the subject for many years of chronic disease, which had contracted her fingers, arms, and knees, so that she could not either move herself, nor amuse her solitude with any occupation, excepting occasional reading. Even this resource was very limited; her head and eyes, being too weak to admit of application.

"Good-morning, Mary," said my friend. "I fear you are dull, now the Miss Bassets have left; they used to visit you so often."

"I do miss them very much, but I am not dull, Miss. Blessed be God, I can say with my Saviour, I am not alone, because my Father is with me. I have great mercies to praise him for, and I expect greater. So I muse on these things, and when my thoughts grow weary, I take up my precious Bible or hymn book, and set them going again."

"I do not think, Mary," observed Louisa, "I could bear confinement so well as you do."

"Indeed, you could not, Miss, nor any thing else,” replied the poor woman, "unless the Holy Spirit helped you. Imperfect as my faith and patience are, it is only by the grace of God, that I am what I am. O what a mercy, Miss, to know that we may do and suffer all things, through Christ strengthening us."

Louisa read a chapter and hymn, which, to use poor Mary's own expression, cheered her for the remainder of the day. We then took our course, through a beautiful little field; whence might be seen an extensive panorama of hill and valley, pasture, corn-field, and sparkling river; all lying in alternate sun and shade. Churches, with their tapering spires pointed to heaven; windmills,

the flickering shadows of whose busy sails danced on the grass beneath them; lordly mansions, surrounded by their deep rich foliage; substantial farms, and simple cottages, adorned and varied the sweet scene. Nor was its interest confined to inanimate nature, the lowing herds, and bleating flocks; the warbling birds, and merry haymakers, attracted eye and ear. And as we stood for a while to admire and enjoy the prospect, an animated addition was suddenly made to it. The door of the village school opened, and out poured a troop of little ones; with agile limbs and joyous faces, chasing each other down the hill, on which the picturesque little edifice was built. Having reached the bottom, they separated into little parties, and entered the various cottages; where, judging by the curling smoke which ascended from their several chimnies, we hoped a good dish of potatoes at least, was preparing for them. "How excellent is thy loving-kindness, O Lord!" we exclaimed, while gazing on the varied objects. "Thou preservest man and beast; therefore, the children of men, shall trust under the shadow

of thy wings."

Passing through a gate at the end of this field, we came suddenly on the prettiest cottage that I ever saw. It was sheltered by trees; while over the porch, and over a large portion of its white-washed front, clustered the fragrant honey-suckle, and the china rose. "I seldom enter this cottage," whispered Louisa, "" or look at Hannah Warford, without thinking of the text, many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.""

On a table in the centre of the room, covered with a clean cloth, an exquisitely neat young woman, was placing some plates. Three little children had just hung up their bonnets and tippets: and after shewing their school tickets, ran to their mother for the accustomed kiss. Near an open window, sat their father; rendered pallid and helpless, by a twice-repeated stroke of paralysis. An aged woman, whose bed or rather couch, occupied the farther corner of the room, completed the family.

"How are you all to-day, Hannah?" enquired my friend. "Much as usual, thank you, Miss. My husband was very ill in the night; I almost feared he would have another fit: but, thank God! it is gone off this morning."

“I am sorry you have been suffering," said Louisa, turning to Warford. The poor man was evidently weakened, both in body

and mind. A follower of the meek and lowly Jesus, he had long been accustomed, to keep under his corrupt nature, and bring it into subjection. The irritability therefore, attendant on his complaint, with a daily diminution of power to struggle against it, greatly distressed him.

"I am better now, thank you, Miss," he replied; “but I have worried Hannah sadly. She had no sleep all night. I wanted my limbs rubbed, and one thing after another, till, I am sure, she must be quite worn out. O Miss! Satan takes advantage of me.

I am very sinful.”

"Hannah does not think so, do you?" rejoined Louisa.

"O no, Miss,” she answered, “I often wonder at his patience and resignation. As mother told him this morning, 'It is no marvel, when our spirits, by the help of God's grace, sustain our infirmities: but to see his wounded spirit struggling, and often getting the victory, shews that his Saviour's strength, can indeed be perfected in weakness."'

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“Ah! they are kind, too kind," exclaimed Warford : they make allowances for me, that I cannot make for myself." And then, most affecting was it, to see the big tears which his own hand could not reach, tenderly wiped away by his affectionate wife. A responsive tear stood in our own eyes, till Louisa cheerfully observed,

"What a blessed meeting will you have hereafter. There all tears shall be wiped away, and every infirmity left behind: the christian graces, which even now make you such treasures to each other, will then be perfected; and without alloy, you will rejoice eternally together."

"The Lord hasten it in his good time," said the aged mother, yet, let me add with Job, 'All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come.""

"I copied some lines the other day," rejoined Louisa, “from a book I was reading, quite in accordance with that feeling. When the children are seated I will read them."

Little Jane had gone out of the with two or three beautiful pinks.

door, and was just returning,

Running to her father, she

raised her little mouth to kiss him; and placing the flowers in his button hole, exclaimed,

"There is a nosegay for you, father, dear."