A VISIT OF MERCY. 123

returning ray of comfort. At the same time, she is ob-

dear! oh, dear! I feel quite well again now. Send him

up to see his wife and boy.”

What need to describe the scene any further—how
William rushed upstairs; how Cole came in, and ex-
plained the state of affairs to the old folks; how old Mrs.
Cole was sent for to see a gentleman, who wanted her on
particular business; how completely the great surprise
was swallowed up in the still greater joy of sceing her
long-lost son. Suffice it to say that the day was the
happiest one that either family had seen for a lone time,
and that the happiness was a lasting one. Even old
Mrs. Runeckles was satisfied the Coles were no longer
the “stuck up” people that she had considered them, and
she had her William with her to the end of her days, for
he gave up his seafaring life, and joined his father (who
Was now growing feeble and shaky) in the farm, and
there the three generations lived happily together, often
visited by the Coles, who had taken a house in the neigh-
bourhood, and with whom they were never tired of going
over the story of their great troubles, and how wonder-
fully they had been brought out of them by a kind
Providence, which had known better than they could
have done themselves, how to turn the night of heaviness
into the morning of joy.

A VISIT OF MERCY.

mT is a happiness to think of that vast ministry
y| of consolation which exists over the length
and breadth of this country. There are
now very few parishes in this country
where some organization does not exist in
the way of sympathy and relief for the suffering. The
old institution of district visitors attempts to grapple on
the whole with the unhappiness and want of a parish, and
to bring every special case under the notice of the clergy.
Much the same kind of thing is done by sisterhoods, and
Deaconesses’ Institutions, and by other systematized forms
of benevolent action. And-whether under any organized
system or not, every Christian person, every humane
person, seeks to do some act of charity. The wise man
truly said that it is better to go to the house of mourning
than to the house of feasting. Dr. Arnold used to affirm
that intercourse, with little discourse, and visiting the
sick and poor, and prayer, were just safeguards for pre-
serving spiritual life. ‘“ Bitterly indeed, and for ever,” he
writes, “shall those be tormented whose chief thought in
this life is how they may live comfortably.” But merey
is. twice blessed, both to him who gives and him who
takes. It is amid scenes of sorrow that we find the finest
examples of faith overcoming the pain and sorrow of the
world, and we are then enabled to store up strength for
our own coming times of trial. “Never did a charitable
act go away,” says Bishop Hall, “ without the reward of
a blessing.’ God cannot but love in us the exercise of
that merey which bids His sunshine and His rain fall
upon the just and upon the unjust.

To my mind, no sight is more touching and suggestive
than to see the English lady, well nurtured and well
cultured, going forth on errands of mercy, to visit per-
chance some humble homes haunted by sorrow and
bereavement. By her womanly sympathy she may be
able to stanch fast-flowing tears, and to impart the first

taining for herself a far deeper insight into human nature
and character, than can be obtained by education or
society, and is gaining the truest cultivation of the inner
life. Such kindly offices have made much of the charm
and strength of English life, and do infinitely much to
bind together different ranks of life. It is not meant
that the rich only should visit the poor, for indeed the
poor visiting the poor can often best render services of an
unpurchasable sort.

Practical benevolence is, after all, the tr: test of
Christian character. To visit the fatherless and widows
in their affliction is a part of pure and undefiled religion.
It is certainly not meant by this expression that religion
consists in philanthropy alone. The term used by St.
James relates to the service of the faithful, the work and
action of the Church. Those who are truly followers of
the Lord Christ find their appointed service or religion
“in following the Master’s step, who went about doing
good.” All kindly conduct is in itself good, and belongs
to the Master’s service. But it is only the true
members of His Church who can in the highest sense
fulfil the religion of visiting the fatherless and widows.
For otherwise they cannot fulfil the highest vocation of
His visiting, which is to tell the fatherless that they
have a Father in heaven, to tell the widow that her
Maker is her husband, the Lord of Hosts, and to speak
in full assurance of faith of the time when the broken
homes of earth may be reunited in heayen. Whatever
may be the variations of theological opinion, there is
no doubt on the imperative necessity of practical good-
ness. ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it to one of the least
of these, ye haye done it unto Me.” It is at the foot of
the Cross that we must learn the lessons that we would
teach to otners, even the pure and undefiled religion of
visiting the fatherless and widow, and so, taking up the
Cross and bidding others take up theirs, follow Christ.

eA.

Porvutation or Lonpoy.—Taking the usual census
limit, a circle round Charing Cross with a radius of six
miles, London had in 1861 a population of 2,803,989.
In 1871 the population is 3,247,631, showing an increase
of 443,642, that is, cf a city as great as Glasgow within
the ten years. This is a smaller increase than was ex-
pected; but it almost exactly tallies with the weekly
calculations of the Registrar-General, who says that the
population of London increases at a decreasing rate, only
a certain number of people consenting to live within a
given area. Even at this rate:the population of London
is thrice that of any city in the world, except Paris—the
population sometimes ascribed to Pekin being a mere
delusion—and probably twice that ever attained by any
city. De Quincey laboured hard to show that Rome once
contained four millions of people; but his principal
datum, the number of soldiers she sent out, was a blunder,
and it is not probable that Rome ever exceeded a million
anda half. ‘The cities now known to contain more than
a million are probably only four,—London, Paris, New
York, and Caleutta, the latter being degraded from its
place, in books only, by an old habit of considering its
limits conterminous with the jurisdiction of the Supreme
Court.—Spectator.