tural that they should repair to one who had so long displayed his interest in their welfare. When such instances occurred, none could be more anxious to receive than he was to impart his blessing; and it was easy to discover in the countenances of those who left him, that his words had been as tender as they were solemn, and that they had not been listened to without emotion.

It must have been truly delightful to Bishop Sandford to trace the spiritual progress of these dear children, to many of whom he had administered the initiatory rite of religion,-to watch their minds unfolding under the influence of truth,—and after laying his paternal hands upon their heads, to place before them the consecrated elements, of which he had laboured to render them worthy recipients;-and when, as would occasionally happen, he was called on to perform over some of them even the last sad service, and ne saw their bodies descend into the tomb, would ne not feel a melancholy satisfaction in believing that he had discharged to them his duty, and that they were not unprepared for their great change!

Seldom indeed has any life presented a more interesting picture of pastoral relations than his did;-from the cradle of their infants to their own dying bed,-on every occasion which admitted of spiritual improvement, the humblest of his congregation might look for his sympathy

and aid. He was a diffident and sensitive man, who needed encouragement, and shrank from even the appearance of obtrusiveness; but a word or look would at any time secure his attendance. Excessive delicacy may indeed, in many cases, injure ministerial usefulness, but in the circumstances of Bishop Sandford's charge, which was composed, for the most part, of refined and affluent persons, it was most essential. There is no duty more important and indispensable than that of pastoral visitation; but there is, at the same time, none which requires to be conducted with more delicacy and discretion, or which demands so much elevation with so much tenderness, so much self-suspicion with so much respect for others. If, in pastoral intercourse, there is ever danger lest the minister should merge in the acquaintance, and his visits be regarded merely as complimentary attentions, there is also danger, lest religion should be so exclusively the ground of his connexion, that it should be regarded only as a professional commodity, and his conversation be minuted like his sermons; or lest, by abrupt and unnatural introduction of things serious, he should startle and wound where it is his object to conciliate. We may indeed regret that offence is so easily taken, but in a world where high degrees of spirituality are not often to be found, it is most essential that taste should be associated with piety in the minister of Christ.

And it was to this union that Bishop Sandford owed much of his acceptance. His presence

would have been, at any time, sufficient to give a tone to the circle in which he moved; but if he ever sought edification in society, and watched to give the conversation a religious turn, it was in a way so mild and unobtrusive that none could detect the moment of his doing so. An observation on an author, an allusion to a picture, the mention of a friend, a melody, or a flower, any thing that furnished a natural transition, was made by him a vehicle of devotional sentiment.

He indeed neglected nothing which could conciliate for his message a kindly or attentive audience. Offence, he had observed, was more generally taken at the manner in which sentiments were expressed, than at their purport; and he therefore felt, that the gentlest mien and the chastest phraseology became him as a minister of peace.

Delicacy may be sometimes the result of pride, which is punctilious only because it is sensitive; but in Bishop Sandford it had its source in humility. The clerical profession is a passport, but it should never be used as a license. It places the minister in the discharge of his duty on a level with the noblest; but he should never use it as a pretext for wounding the feelings or disregarding the rules of society. Such solecisms

argue an ill-regulated mind; for religion ought to have the same influence as chivalry in refining the character; and it is surely a breach of morals, as well as of politeness, to forget in the exercise of the gravest duty the deference due to rank or station. Religion should teach respect even where taste and education have not done so.- No one ever knew Bishop Sandford take a liberty, for the courtesy of others, due as it was to his various claims to deference, never rendered him familiar,—and, therefore, the flow of sentiment was never checked by the conviction that reserve was essential to security. It was partly on this account that his society was so much courted by persons of distinction,-and that the highest rank never commanded greater or more general respect, than was always paid to his ungilded and unassuming mitre.

It was observed of the admirable Nelson, that he cultivated whatever might convey to others an amiable impression of religion, and in this Bishop Sandford resembled him he loved to see religion dressed in smiles, and felt it to be his duty to encourage cheerfulness, because he thought, in this way, to promote peace and virtue; and would not discourage youth and gaiety by an appearance of moroseness. He strove, therefore, as a pastor, to be agreeable as well as instructive; and men were pleased to see that his graver sentiments did not render him

repulsive, or disqualify him for social enjoyment. Yet he never countenanced frivolity; and, in his most sportive moods, it was evident that his pleasantry was as innocent as it was graceful, and was the relaxation of a religious mind.

Bishop Sandford, however, always wished his visits to be regarded as pastoral. His habits were studious, and therefore sedentary; and if reserve had not disinclined him from promiscuous society, infirmity would have disqualified him. It was, therefore, generally from a sense of duty that he left his own room; and when he did so, it was to visit those by whom his pastoral assistance was required.

To the afflicted he was ever welcome, for there was something soothing in the very stillness of his address, and this inaudible sympathy prepared the heart for consolation. Delicacy taught him to respect the sacredness of grief, and to study the time as well as the topics of condolence; so that sorrow was allowed to have its burst before he addressed the mourner on the duty of submission, or attempted to administer religious comfort. He understood the bewildering effects of deep affliction, and he knew that nature must have way before faith and resignation could be realized. When, however, he approached the house of mourning, none knew better how to improve the season of sorrow, or how to administer the balm provided in the gospel. His manner, at once tender and re