Since his retirement from college on his present living, he had enjoyed much leisure, and had devoted it to elegant studies: modern classics, modern languages, the fine arts, late discoveries in science, &c. &c. In short, to use his own words, he had, since that period, wandered daily through the pleasure-grounds of literature; not suffering his mind to sink into utter indolence, yet giving it no more than the healthful stimulus of gentle exercise. He was born a poet, but had, through life, indulged more in poetical feelings than in poetical effusions; unless, indeed, we admit as such, the energetic overflowing of his spontaneous eloquence in conversation; for his sermons, he took care, should be plain and practical. He was not a shepherd, who, at the instigation of vanity, would turn the green pasture-lands of his flock into beds of tulips. Yet did not the pure and perspicuous style, which good taste, as well as good feeling, taught him to adopt on sacred subjects, want for that true sublime which is derived from simplicity, when the grandeur of the thought itself leaves laboured language far behind. The topic on which he was unwearied was, the inseparable connexion between right faith and right practice, and between both and happiness. He proved, by the most beautiful and feeling arguments and illustrations, that, like the root, the blossom, and the fruit, they grew out of, necessarily produced, and, as necessarily, could not exist without each other. He then proceeded to show, that the whole chain of natural causes and effects formed one unbroken, practical revelation of the Almighty will, ordaining virtue and forbidding vice; inasmuch as not only is virtue necessary to make us capable of happiness even here, but out of vice invariably grows suffering, not only moral, but generally physical also, lest the lowest capacity should be slow to comprehend this manifestation of the sovereign purpose of him who called us into being, but bestows upon us that felicity, towards which, his all-wise government is constituted to lead us; of him who, had it been possible even to infinite power, to bestow a consciousness of individuality of spiritual being, without an equal consciousness of freedom of will, would have rendered it impossible for his creatures to err; or, in other words, to forfeit that bliss which "eye hath not seen, ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive." "For," our Christian philosopher would add, as he drew his arguments to their close, "had that emanation of the divinity which is the soul of man, been without choice between good and evil; or, in other words, necessitated to act by no other impulse than that of its great source, the Almighty had created but a material world, all spiritual intelligence, the whole soul of the universe, had still been God himself!"