concerns of the natural world and the secular life, he retained all the fervor of spirit that charaterized the most devout believer. A vein of passionate feeling ran through all his discourses, and while his themes were taken from daily existence, his thoughts were fixed on eternity. He was absorbed in the destiny of the human soul, of the _individual_ soul, bringing all discussions to that point, and trying to make lasting impressions on the spiritual natures of men and women. When I first knew him he had the reputation of being a self-indulgent man. This was a great mistake. His way of life was exceedingly simple, and his habits were almost abstemious. In fact, neither his physical nor his mental constitution allowed of any indulgence in eating or drinking. Still the impression was a natural one, for a certain amount of ease, exemption from care, gayety, was necessary to him. The society of elegant, accomplished people was indispensable to his recreation and rest. His motive for seeking such was not the love of luxury so much as a demand for recreation and a craving for repose. He was not, in any sense, an earthy man or one who loved sensual delights. On the contrary, he was always mindful of his calling, always intent on high subjects, always ready to lead intercourse upwards, always, to the extent of his power, interested in the moral aspect of current discussions; over-anxious, if anything, to approach speculative themes. He possessed an eager, unresting, questioning mind. He was always thinking, and on great subjects of theology or philosophy, and he put into them an amount of feeling that is extraordinary with intellectual men. That he should have been so sensitive as he was to the words and suspicions of anti-slavery men who charged him with being an advocate of a fugitive-slave law, an apologist for slavery, a ready tool of the inhuman, reactionary party of the country, is not surprising. His dread of pain, his hatred of falsehood, his horror of injustice, his love of fair play, will sufficiently account for this; while the impossibility of explaining himself kept the wound open. That for thirty years the sore should have bled, shows the delicacy of his temperament and the shrinking nature of his will. To speak of him as a friend of slavery is absurd. No one can read his sermon on "The Slavery Question," preached shortly after the annexation of Texas and at a moment of great excitement at the North in regard to the advances of the slave-power, and not perceive that he was deeply moved.