connected with a minister’s life, that a minister’s
own soul will prosper largely in the measure that
the souls of his people prosper through his pastoral
work. No preaching, even if it were as good preaching
as the apostle’s itself, can be left to make
up for the neglect of pastoral visitation and personal
intercourse. ‘I taught you from house to
house,’ says Paul himself, when he was resigning
the charge of the church of Ephesus into the hands
of the elders of Ephesus. What would we ministers
not give for a descriptive report of an afternoon’s
house-to-house visitation by the Apostle Paul!
Now in a workshop, now at a sickbed, now with a Greek,
now with a Jew, and, in every case, not discussing
politics and cursing the weather, not living his holidays
over again and hearing of all the approaching marriages,
but testifying to all men in his own incomparably
winning and commanding way repentance toward God and
faith toward the Lord Jesus Christ. We city
ministers call out and complain that we have no time
to visit our people in their own houses; but that is
all subterfuge. If the whole truth were told
about the busiest of us, it is not so much want of
time as want of intention; it is want of set and indomitable
purpose to do it; it is want of method and of regularity
such as all business men must have; and it is want,
above all, of laying out every hour of every day under
the Great Taskmaster’s eye. Many country
ministers again,—we, miserable men that
we are, are never happy or well placed,—complain
continually that their people are so few, and so scattered,
and so ignorant, and so uninteresting, and so unresponsive,
that it is not worth their toil to go up and down in
remote places seeking after them. It takes a
whole day among bad roads and wet bogs to visit a
shepherd’s wife and children, and two or three
bothies and pauper’s hovels on the way home.
‘On the morrow,’ so runs many an entry
in Thomas Boston’s Memoirs, ’I visited
the sick, and spent the afternoon in visiting others,
and found gross ignorance prevailing. Nothing
but stupidity prevailed; till I saw that I had enough
to do among my handful. I had another diet of
catechising on Wednesday afternoon, and the discovery
I made of the ignorance of God and of themselves made
me the more satisfied with the smallness of my charge
. . . Twice a year I catechised the parish, and
once a year I visited their families. My method
of visitation was this. I made a particular application
of my doctrine in the pulpit to the family, exhorted
them all to lay all these things to heart, exhorted
them also to secret prayer, supposing they kept family
worship, urged their relative duties upon them,’
etc. etc. And then at his leaving
Ettrick, he writes: ’Thus I parted with
a people whose hearts were knit to me and mine to
them. The last three or four years had been
much blessed, and had been made very comfortable to
me, not in respect of my own handful only, but others