field for labor, but even that cannot be proof against the power of a holy life, certainly not against the working of the Spirit for which we may always pray. Nor are we left to our religion as if it could find no response in the intellect as well as the heart. Let us sometimes meet the wisdom of this world upon its own ground. Surely the philosophy of a mind like Paul's is not to be contemned, any more than his sacred logic can be grappled with and overthrown. With such a one we might be proud to sit down and weep over sin, to hang our hopes on the foolishness of the cross, to content ourselves with the simple revelation of mysteries at which we could but 'cry out, 'O the depth!' Chiefly may we be proud to sit down like children at the feet of him who spake as never man spake. Human philosophy never provided such an instruc ́ter, such a Saviour. It is a gift to the world which meets the want of every mind. And he alone is blessed who hears in the words, 'Come unto me,' an invitation to his own worldworn and unsatisfied nature, and is determined to make the noble sentiment of Chrysostom his own, 'When we rise, the cross-when we lie down, the cross-in all places and at all times, the cross, shining more glorious than the sun.’

There was a kind of generosity and healthiness in Mr. Homer's religious character. His views of truth were rational, and he learned religious lessons from all that he read or heard. "Some of my brethren," he writes, "have been a little scandalized at the want of spirituality in the exercises which I have been describing to you. But on my mind they have a decidedly religious influence. They send me to my knees, that I may ask God for his blessing upon the good counsels which are given us, and my own' feeble endeavors to live up to them. They give me higher views of my great work, of my solemn calling; and if this be less religious than such a discourse as leaves us weary and dissatisfied, then religion is something different from an active consecration of the soul to God." His healthful interest in all that is good and graceful,

his sympathy with natural virtue even where but little of it was to be found, and his kindliness of feeling toward all who belonged to his race, and especially toward those whose character was unfortunately misunderstood, made him appear more liberal and catholic than some would think either judicious or safe. His error would always be on the side of leniency rather than of bigotry. It was not his highest aim to become popular in the church, but to set an example of enlarged, comprehensive piety, and to secure the favor of God rather than the praise of even good men. "I tremble," he said, "for the Christian who has a high repute in the world for his spiritual attainments. I pray God that he may be as humble as he is famous. It is cruel for our religious reviews to speak of living authors as eminent for piety. These authors will read the commendation, and if they believe the half of what is written, they will think more highly of themselves than they ought to think."

Besides his quickness of sympathy with all who were in need of moral support, his readiness to be touched with the feeling of their infirmities, and his affable companionship even with such as preferred to keep aloof from religious society, the more obvious peculiarities of his religious action were his wisdom in adopting fit means for fit ends, and his freedom from all hackneyed and cant phraseology. He was not so fond of exhorting men to embrace the Saviour," as to rely for salvation on the atonement; nor did he inquire so often "what were their frames of mind," or "how they had enjoyed a particular season," as he was of learning their spiritual state in easy and incidental converse. The follow

ing is one among many specimens of his style in exhorting a sinner to repentance. The reader will perceive how sedulous he was to avoid the phrases which so often annoy the person whom they are designed to benefit, hardening the heart because they disgust the taste.

"Andover, March 8, 1840.—It gives me great pleasure to hear from your letter, that some of your own friends are beginning to walk in the good way. I learn from various sources that the Spirit of God is now very near to the families and churches of Boston, and I have not ceased to pray that you may not let this golden opportunity pass unimproved. Something has whispered to me that the harvest season of your soul is at hand. If you suffer it to leave you before your peace is made with God, who can predict that there will ever be another period when the Spirit and the bride will urge their invitation so persuasively as they do now? And if you resist these influences, what can be expected for the lesser influences which may appeal to you in future, when your heart may be more hardened than it is at present. It made me glad that you could write me of being ' at times anxious for the salvation of your soul.' But 1 rejoice with trembling, for I know that Christ requires something more than occasional anxiety. He demands that you give yourself no rest till you have yielded to his claim. He asks something more than anxiety, he asks a full surrender of your powers and affections to his service. He contemplates with no satisfaction the heart that has been awakened by his voice only to disobey it. Could there be a more reasonable demand than his,—that you this instant fix your heart on the love that bled and died for you, and love it; that without a moment's delay you resolve to keep his commands, and keep them, no longer impelled by desires for your own gratification, but sweetly inclined to do his will, through life and forever. Let me entreat you not to rest secure that you are on the way to repentance, for repentance is a duty that must be performed now, without delay. Let me urge you not to deceive yourself by imagining some more convenient season, though not far off, when you can begin to live for God. Now is the only sure moment held out in the word of God, when the soul's salvation may be secured. Will you not then repair immediately to that Saviour who is waiting to receive each lost and sinful child for whom he poured out his precious blood. Choose him for your guide and portion. Give him the heart you are now wasting on the world. For every earthly sacrifice he will restore you an hundred fold, in the green pastures through which he leads his chosen on earth, and by the river of God in heaven."

It is as forming a new variety among the plants that our heavenly Father hath planted, that the religious life of Mr. Homer elicits the interest of his friends. Each differing

beauty in the garden of the Lord conduces to that impression of completeness which ought to be made by the whole scene. The elements of a religious character are combined in various proportions in different individuals. Each of these combinations has its excellences; no one of them is a standard for exclusive imitation. They depend on varieties of temperament and of early training, and are all deficient when compared with the perfect model that shines forth in the gospel. An error of many Christians is, that they attach an authority to the example of some imperfect man, and debar from their fellowship all who do not follow that example. One class of religious developments they commend too exclusively, and are intolerant of another class which are useful in their own sphere, but are not in sympathy with the provincial Our duty is to reverence the graces of the Spirit whatsoever they be, and to aim after that union of all the virtues which we discover in our great Exemplar.

taste.

The subject of this memoir had not the deep self-abhorrence of him who cried out in view of his sins, "Infinite upon infinite-infinite upon infinite;" nor had he the sombre and gloomy piety which made him walk over the ground like David Brainerd, fearing that the earth was just ready to open itself and swallow him up; nor had he the bruised and morbid spirit of Cowper, nor the imposing and awe-inspiring virtues of Payson, nor the spirited and impetuous piety of Baxter, pressed on by an irritated nerve, and looking for no peace till he reached the Saint's Everlasting Rest. There was the calm and philosophical devotion of Bishop Butler,—there was the mild and equable and philanthropic temper of Blair and of Tillotson; but it was neither of these that Mr. Homer held up as his exclusive model. He had not attained a perfect symmetry of christian virtue, but he was aiming after it, and striving to blend the graces of the gospel into one luminous yet mild, rich yet simple expression.

MR. HOMER'S FACETIOUSNESS.

It is said by some uninspired men, that our Saviour while on earth never laughed. This assertion, which is probably false, would prove nothing if it were true. He who left the abodes of eternal blessedness and was God manifest in the flesh, he who bore a world's redemption upon his heart, who came that he might suffer, and suffered that we might be healed, who died to bear our sins, and in his death was forsaken even by his Father, such a being might well do many things which we may not do, and abstain from much that we may practise. We, who are enjoying the fruit of his labors, and are living on the merits of his death, need not be always sombre and exceeding sorrowful.

It is also said that stern realities are before us, sickness, bereavement, death; and in view of the evils to which we are hastening, we should repress our sportive tendencies and prepare for the dark hour. It is indeed good to think of our dying scenes, to think of them often, so often that we may rise above the fear of death, and become conquerors through him that loved us. But are these to be our only thoughts? Is there to be no variety of christian feeling? Shall we always speak on the minor key? Are there not green spots on the earth, as well as arid wastes ? Are there not bright seasons in life, and joyous meetings and thrilling prospects, and is not religion too often confounded with gloom and sadness?

The subject of this memoir was a serious and thoughtful man, but was religiously careful to prevent his seriousness from being degraded into dulness. He was earnest and solemn; but " as the two greatest men and gravest divines of their time, Gregory Nazianzen and Basil, could entertain one another with facetious epistles," so in the present instance all needful care was taken to prevent solemnity from degenerating into sanctimony. He looked upon sanctimony as a sole