I wished them good night, and went onwards to my own home, reflecting with much self-abasement of heart, what an honour and comfort it is to be a poor man, rich in faith.
A VISIT TO THE INFIRMARY.
I went a few months since to visit a parishioner, then in the county infirmary, within some miles of which I reside, and was informed that in an adjoining ward there lay a very good old man, confined by a mortification in his foot, who would take particular satisfaction in any Christian conversation which my time would allow me to afford him.
The nurse conducted me into a room where I found him alone on a bed.

The character of his countenance was venerable, cheerful, contented, and pious.

His hoary hairs proclaimed him to be aged, although the liveliness in his eye was equal to that of the most vigorous youth.
"How are you, my friend ?" I said.
"Very well, sir, very well.

Never better in all my life.

Thank God for all his mercies!" replied the man, with so cheerful a tone of voice as at once surprised and delighted me.
"Very well! How so?
I thought from what I heard you were in much pain and weakness," said I.
"Yes, sir, that is true; but I am very well for all that.