CIRCULATING LIBRARY, MIDDLEBURY, VERMONT.^ ' -.^REGULATIONS.eW- 1. Any person may become a member of this Association by the payment of Tw<> i)n.i. \i;- : said membership to con- tinue from the time of payment till the first day of .January following. Members may, by personal applica- tion or by order, draw books from the Library every Saturday afternoon, and can retain the same two weeks. .'{. Members retaining books for a long- er period than specified, subject thcm- M>] V e< to a tine of TI.N Cr.vrs for each \\eek the hook is so detained. I. Members are entitled to draw but one I k at a lime. \o member shall lend any book be- longing to the Association. \ny member who shall lose or in- .!'"'' :l1 k -hall supply a new copy of !' or pay the Librarian the value of it. .* THE LIFE AND LETTERS STEPHEN QLIN, D.D., LLD., LATE PRESIDENT OF THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. H. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 329 & 331 PEARL STKEET, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1853. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-three, by HARPER & BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. CHAPTER I. THE DANUBE. HOMEWARD BOUND. Arrival in Constantinople Visit to Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Hamlin Journal on the Danube Fortress of Widin Village of Calofat Ridge of the Carpathian Mountains Scala Gladova A wattled Village Gladonitza Dress of the Servian Peasantry The Iron Gate Fort Elizabeth Lazaretto at Orsova Women prematurely old and ugly Passes of the Danube Ancient Roman Road Servian Castle Romor The River muddy and swift Semendria Trian- gular Fort Servian Village Fortress of Belgrade the Banat Semlin a Place of great Deposit Castle of Huniades Hungarian Passengers reckless and boisterous Peterwardein a strong For- tress Illok a Station of the Boat Willow the most common Tree on the Danube Village of Mills The Hungarians a good-looking People Abasement of the common People A City of Cottages Dress of the Peasantry Hungary the Shield of Europe Valley of the Danube the largest and most fertile in Europe Want of Culti- vation of more Enterprise Hungarian Gentlemen Pesth, a fine-looking City Great Freshet in 1838 Buda opposite Pesth Toll-bridge where only the Poor pay Iron Bridge Hungarian Diet Illness in Vienna Voyage Home Page 9 CHAPTER II. REST AND RECOVERY. Winter in Georgia Resides with his Brother in Salisbury, Vermont Changes in the Home Circle Letter to Mrs. Dwinnell Re- moves to Poultney Prepares Journal in the East for Publication Record of his religious Feelings Entire Consecration Perfect Peace A memorable Interview . . 29 Letters written in 1841 and, 1842. 63 To the Rev. Bishop Andrew-Journal Letter - - -Page 39 64! To Miss Mary Ann E. Howard-Winter in Vermont instead of Georgia Blessed Hopes 65 To the Rev. Seymour Landon-A faithful Minister .-. 4* 66. To Dr. and Mrs. Palmer-Unnnmbered Blessings-Doctrine ^ of Christian Holiness ,"r" V" AK. 67 To the Rev. James Floy-Loss of Friends-Social Wants 68 To the Rev. Mr. Memam Desire to visit his Family m llli- 46 69. To the Rev. Bishop Andrew Acquaintance with Grief Re- vivals " * " " r 70. To Dr. and Mrs. Palmer Circumstances appointed by Provi- dence the best for us 50 71. To the Rev. Seymour Landon Advantages of Retirement Self-scrutiny 53 72. To the Rev. Dr. .Methodism The Itineracy 55 73. To John M. Flournoy, Esq., on the Death of his Father 58 74. To Dr. Olin From Bishop Andrew, on the Death of his Wife. 60 75. To the Rev. Bishop Andrew Deep Affliction 61 76. To the Rev. Seymour Landon Love of Preaching 63 77. To the Same Perfect Trust in Christ 64 78. To John M. Flournoy, Esq. Touching Remembrance 65 79. To the Rev. Seymour Landon Reason for going to the Wes- leyan University 66 80. To the Rev. William M. Wightman Southern Christian Ad- vocate Preparation of Travels 67 81. To J. O. Walker, Esq. Respect and Affection 69 82. To Mr. .Theoretical Difficulties in Religion 70 CHAPTER III. DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. BY REV. DR. HOLDICH. Dr. Olin's Election to the Presidency in 1839 Letter from the Com- mittee of Correspondence Dr. Olin's Reply Resigns shortly after his Return to this Country Election of the Rev. Dr. Bangs Dr. Bangs' Resignation Dr. Olin re-elected in August, 1842 Letter from the Hon. Seth Sprague Inducements offered to insure his Acceptance Trying Period to the Institution Character of Dr. CONTENTS. Olin's Administration Successful Efforts in regard to the Finances Effective Addresses Sketch of one delivered before the New York Conference Power over the Sensibilities of his Audience Evening Services in the Chapel Address at a Concert of Prayer for Colleges Freedom from scholastic Expressions and cant Phrases His Religion not obtained from Books or human Teach- ing Conversation with a Friend His Reading More a Thinker than a Reader Influence upon the Character of the Students His Baccalaureate Addresses Page 73 CHAPTER IV. FIRST DAYS IN MIDDLETOWN. PUBLICATION OF TRAVELS IN THB BAST. HIS MARRIAGE. First Days in Middletown Preaches for the first Time in Six Years Visit to New York Superintends the Publication of his Travels in the East Favorable Reception of the Work Opinions of it Address at the Genesee Wesleyan Seminary Remembrances of his Preaching Address at the Anniversary of the Bible Society at the twenty-fourth Anniversary of the Methodist Missionary Soci- ety at the laying of the Corner-stone of a Church in Norfolk Street, New York Sketch of his Friend, Dr. Few His Marriage Vaca- tion in New York An Evening in Company with Margaret Fuller Opening of the College Term Hopeful Anticipations Good Counsels A Month's Labor in New York Return to Middletown Sermon in the College Chapel Visit to Boston Illness. . . 102 Letters written in 1843 and 1844. 83. To the Rev. William M. Wightman Religious Prosperity Decline of the Missionary Spirit 123 84. To his Sister, Miss C. Olin Plans for the Summer 125 85. To the Rev. S. Olin, from the Rev. Bishop Andrew on his Restoration to Health 126 86. To the Rev. Mr. . " Old Saws and modern Instances". 127 87. To the Same Ambitious Aspirations Liabilities they in- volve 128 88. To the Rev. Seymour Landon Town and Country Lire 129 89. From the Rev. Dr. Few Christian Friendship Mountain Scenery Tribute to a Friend 130 90. To a young Friend Love of Preaching Agency of Faith. . 134 91. To the Rev. Seymour Landon Incidents of a Journey 136 92. To John M. Flournoy, Esq., on his Marriage 137 Vi CONTENTS. 93. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Friends among young Men- Criticism on the first Volume of Travels in the East. Page 318 94. To the Rev. Mr. Landon Love for Christ and the Gospel. 139 95. To the Rev. Dr. .Assurances of Friendship Article in the North American Review 140 96. To John M. Flournoy, Esq. Letter of Congratulation 141 97. To the Rev. Dr. .Reply to an Article in the North American Review 142 98. To the Rev. .Protest against Overwork Religion can make us happy 144 99. To Mrs. Olin Journal Letter Journey by Land to Middle- town 145 100. To the Same Labors for the University 146 101. To the Same The Spirit which he carried into this Work. 147 102. To the Same Duties met in a Christian Spirit give Value to Life 148 103. To the Same Memory and Hope 149 104. To John M. Flournoy, Esq. A new Home 151 105. To the Rev. Leroy M. Lee Sermon on the Ministry 152 CHAPTER V. THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844. An eventful Conference to Dr. Olin Case of Rev. F. A. Harding Dr. Capers proposes that a Committee of Six be appointed on the Question of Pacification Dr. Olin earnestly seconds the Resolution He is appointed one of this Committee Report of the Commit- tee Mid-day Hour of Prayer in the General Conference Resolu- tion offered by Mr. Griffith Mr. Finley's Substitute Dr. Olin's Speech upon it Expressions of Regard from a young Southern. Friend Letter to his Wife and to John M. Flournoy, Esq., on the great Question at Issue Votes for Mr. Finley's Substitute Ex- presses his Opinion on the Import of its Language Letter to his Wife His Spirit and Bearing Strong Expression Testimony of Rev. Dr. Capers 155 CHAPTER VI. OLD FRIENDS. BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. NIAGARA. SERMON AT THE OENESEE CONFERENCE. Visit from dear Southern Friends An Interview under Circumstances of peculiar Interest Mrs. Martin's Reminiscences of his Preaching Frequent Journeys Extemporaneous Preaching Contrasted CONTENTS. Vll with the written Sermon Visits the Oneida Conference Niagara Regard for the Sabbath "Tongues in Trees" The Genesee Conference Conversation with the Rev. Bishop Mainline Ser- mon in the Grove Page 182 Letters written in 1844. 110. To the Students of the Wesleyan University Wishes and Counsels 1 93 111. To the Rev. Dr. Bond The Providence Conference Bish- op Hedding 195 1 12. To Dr. Palmer Inability to reproduce a Sermon Bishop Hamlin , 196 113. To the Rev. William M. Wightman, on the Division of the Church 198 114. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Privations and Blessings 202 115. To the Rev. S. Landon Prayerful Retrospect 203 CHAPTER VII. VISIT TO WASHINGTON AND BOSTON. FUNERAL SERMON. A MISSIONA- RY'S MARRIAGE. Sermon in the Capitol in Charles Street Church, Baltimore in Mid- dletown Visit to Boston Reminiscences of Rev. Abel Stevens Articles on Collegiate Education Baccalaureate Address Sermon on the Death of two Students Appointment of a recent Graduate as Missionary to Africa Bridal Ceremony at the President's House Religious Exercises Voyage to Savannah Return 206 Letters from January, 1845, to May, 1846. 116. To John M. Flournoy, Esq. Requisites for domestic Hap- piness Church Difficulties 212 117. To Mrs. .A Vocation 214 118. To his Sister Days full of Occupation Securities for Hap- piness 215 119. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Want of Moderation 216 120. Our Colleges Graduates of the Wesleyan University A large Liberality needed 217 121. Collegiate Education Duty of Parents An acceptable Of- fering The Working Classes give the Country its stron- gest Minds as well as its strongest Hands 219 122. Collegiate Education Duty of young Men Important Changes begin with the Young True End of Education Well-trained Laborers needed Resources of a culti- B Viii CONTENTS. vated Intellect Elements of true Greatness A Crisis in Youth decisive of Character and Destiny Struggle with adverse Circumstances Suggestion to Pastors and Teachers Page 224 123. To the Editor of the Christian Advocate and Journal Clear and decisive Testimony 235 124. From Rev. Mr. Hamlin, Constantinople Note to Rev. Mr. Homes Mr. Homes' Reply Distinct Recollections con- cerning the Bridge from Mount Moriah to Mount Zion . . 238 125. From Rev. Mr. Hamlin Extract from Journal of Rev. Mr. Homes 242 126. From Mr. Catherwood Confirming Dr. Olin's Statement on the Subject of the ancient Bridge 243 127. To Mr. . Happy Prospects High Responsibilities 243 128. To the Editor of the Christian Advocate and Journal Evils of Controversy Desires for Peace 245 129. To his Brother 250 130. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Invitation to Rhinebeck 251 131. To Mrs. Olin Journal Letters Proposed Voyage to Savan- nah 251 132. Ship Celia Accommodations Fellow-passengers 252 133. Rough Sea Variety of Character 254 134. Brilliant Moonlight Meditation Storm at Sea Long Voy- ageLife of a Sailor Beauty of the Sea and Sky Hal- lowed Recollections Thanksgivings 257 135. Arrival at Savannah Under-tone of Sadness 263 136. Friends in Charleston 264 137. To the Rev. Mr. Merriam, on the Death of a Brother-in-law . . 266 138. To a Graduate of 1845 Speculative Difficulties in Religion . 268 139. To Mrs. Olin Visit to Boston Incidents of the Journey.. 270 140. To Mr. J. R. Olin Revival in Middletown ". ". 272 141. To the Same Reasons for going to Europe 273 142. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Farewell Words 274 CHAPTER VIII. THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. TWO MONTHS ON THE CONTINENT. Proposal to form an evangelical Alliance Invitation from British to American Christians Cordial Response Dr. Olin appointed a Del- egate-Favorable Voyage to England-Sunday in Liverpool Let- ter to Professor Smith-Three Weeks in Paris-Preaches in the Wesleyan Chapel. CONTENTS. IX 144. Letter to the Students of the Wesleyan University Ter- rible Rail-way Accident Painful Scenes Uncertainty of Life Thankfulness Arrival at Douay Visit to Bruges Page 280 The Rhine The Bernese Oberland Fribourg The Grindelwald Lake of Thun Hotel Belle vue Lausanne, Hotel Gibbon The Signal Chamouni. 145. Letter to Professor H. B. Lane Sketch of his Journey Plans and Prospects 288 Extract from his Journal The Alps London The Evangelical Al- lianceA glorious Assemblage Its Harmony A disturbing Ele- ment Close of the Conference Farewell Letter Eighty-one Pul- pits occupied, on the 23d of August, by Members of the Alliance Public Breakfast at Sir Culling Eardley Smith's Breakfast at Cen- tenary Hall Dinner at Dr. Alder's. 146. Letter to Professor A. W. Smith The Evangelical Alliance . 302 147. To the Rev. Dr. Floy Same Subject 303 Extract from Journal Gunnersbury, the beautiful Place of Thomas Farmer, Esq. Theological Institution at Richmond Ramsgate Dover Rev. Dr. Croly's Church The Church Service South- ampton The Isle of Wight Rev. Dr. Scoresby Netley Abbey Ryde Brading The Dairyman's Cottage Truth of Legh Rich- mond's Descriptions Wesleyan Chapel Launch of the John Wes- ley Letter from the Rev. Dr. Beecham Voyage Home Sermon from Rev. Dr. Mason 306 Letters written in the Autumn of 1846. 148. To his Brother Affectionate Solicitude Evangelical Al- liance 312 149. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock, on the Death of his Child 314 150. To the Rev. Seymour Landon Old Friends Good Resolu- tions 315 151. To the Rev. Abel Stevens Evangelical Alliance 317 152. To the Same Same Subject 320 CHAPTER IX. HOME LIFE. Illumination of the College Illness Patience Cheerfulness Meet- ings of the American Branch of the Alliance Regular Routine Reading Life of Chalmers His Conversation Remark of Dr. Wightman His genial Spirit Careful Regard to Troth Tender CONTENTS. Affection for his Children Solicitude for them The last ten Years of his Life Memoranda of his Preaching Address at the Opening of the Missionary Hall Hymn for the Dedication by Mrs. Sigour- ne y Baccalaureate Address Page 327 Letters written in 1847 and, 1848. 153. To Mr. James Strong Pastoral Customs in the East 342 154. To Mrs. Olin Report to New England Conference Father Taylor, the Mariners' Preacher 342 155. To the Rev. . Epistolary Correspondence 345 156. To Mr. and Mrs. , on the Death of their Child 347 157. To Mrs. Olin Journey to Binghampton 349 158. To the Same Journal Letter from Northampton Congre- gationalism 351 159. To his Niece, on her Marriage 353 160. To Mrs. Olin Liberality of Sentiment 354 161. To the Same Ascent of Mount Holyoke Details of the Water-cure 356 162. To the Same Anticipations Regrets Solicitudes 359 163. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock The Rest that remaineth for God's People 360 164. To Mrs. Olin Progress Benefits from an Experiment of the Water-cure 361 165. To Mr. J. R. Olin God's Mercies to an Invalid 362 166. To Mrs. J. R. Olin The bright Side 363 167. To his Brother Daily Life Time a Part of Eternity 364 168. From the Rev. Charles Mallory Renewal of Correspond- ence Life a Dream Personal History 366 169. To the Rev. Charles Mallory Reasons for a Suspension of Correspondence The Evangelical Alliance Christian Friendship Delightful Anticipations 369 170. To the Rev. Charles Pomeroy Struggle with Infirmities Lowly Views 372 171. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock, on the Death of President Emory 374 172. To his Brother Affectionate Solicitude ., 37G 173. From the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock, on the Death of Robert Em- ory, D.D 377 174. To his Wife Visit to Falkner's Island 379 175. To his Brother Submission State of the College 380 178. To the Rev. Dr. Lee, on the Life and Times of Rev. Jesse Lee . 381 CONTENTS. XI 177. To the Same Invitation to Middletown Page 383 178. To the Rev. Abel Stevens Philosophy of Methodism The Want of our Day 385 179. To Mrs. Garrettson on her ninety-sixth Birth-day 386 180. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Demand for cultivated Minis- ters Error of Conservatives Apology for offering Ad- vice 389 181. To the Same Punctuality as a Correspondent Old Friends Christian Nurture 391 CHAPTER X. ILLNESS IN NEW YORK. REMINISCENCES OF HIS SOCIAL CHARACTER. Session of the New York East Conference in Middletown Illness in New York Visits of his Brethren Religious Feelings Calm and Clear Testimony Unexpected Election A Thought on the His- tory of the Apostle Peter Return to Middletown Semi-centen- nial in Middlebury Eulogy by the Hon. Myron Lawrence Visit to Poultney Joins his Family at Rhinebeck Missionary Festival Baptism of his youngest Child Letter of Reminiscences, by Miss Garrettson Dedication of the Indian Hill Cemetery at Mid- dletown 393 Letters from January, 1849, to April, 1851. 182. To Mrs. Olin Missionary Meeting in Baltimore Deep In- terest in Missions 402 183. To his Brother 406 184. To the Rev. Dr. Floy Letter-writing 409 185. From the Rev. B. H. Capers By-gone Days 410 186. To the Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Sermon on early Training.. 408 187. To the Rev. Dr. Floy, on the vacant Chair in the University. 409 188. To the Rev. B. H. Capers Review of the Past 410 189. To the Rev. Abel Stevens 412 190. To W. S. Studley Necessity of a thorough mental Train- ing 413 191. To Mrs. Olin Uncertainty of Life 415 192. To J. O. Walker, Esq. Official Obligations 416 193. To the Rev. S. Landon Friendly Visits Sanctified Afflic- tion 417 194. To Mr. W. W. Runyan, on Preparation for the Ministry . . . 418 195. To Dr. W. C. Palmer Recovery from Illness Religious Reminiscences 419 196. To Miss Caldwell Heavenly Discipline 420 A2 CONTENTS. 197. ToMrs. Olin Journal Letter Weariness of Traveling Montreal Burlington Page 421 198. To the Rev. Dr. M-Clintock, on his Return from Europe Wesleyan Agitation 423 199. To the Same Invitation Christian Love and Confidence. 424 200. To Mr. J. V. Bradshaw, on the Death of his Son 425 201. To Mrs. Dwinnell, on the Death of her Husband The World poor without Christ 427 202. To his Brother Burden of unsatisfied Responsibilities 428 203. To the Rev. Dr. Floy Sympathy with Family Affliction . . 430 204. To Mr. J. R. Olin Thoughts of Heaven Assurances of Affection 431 205. To his Wife Dr. Upham's Works Preaches in Boston Intense Cold 433 206. To Stephen Henry Olin About Boston Sleighing 434 207. To his Wife Journal Letter 435 208. To the Rev. Abel Stevens Pleasant Recollections of Bos- ton 437 209. From the Rev. Dr. Lee Article in the Quarterly Philoso- phy of Methodism Destiny of the Educated 437 210. To the Rev. Dr. Lee Southern Friends Calvin and Ser- vetus Southern Quarterly Review 439 211. To Mr. James Strong Demand for sanctified Scholarship. 441 212. To the Rev. Dr. Wightman The Wofford College Its Lo- cation Constructions Modern Innovations 443 213. To the Rev. Mr. Deems, on Family Prayer 445 214. To the Rev. Dr. Floy Inability to make an Address Long Suspension of Christian Activity a severe Trial 447 CHAPTER XL CLOSING SCENES. Last Sermons in New York Lectures on the Theory and Practice of scholastic Life Interruption in their Delivery Visit to New York Unable to attend the annual Conference Appointed a Del- egate to the General Conference Illness Visit from an old Friend Illness and Death of his youngest Child Commencement-day Parting with his Child Farewell Words Trust and Confidence- Death Funeral Services CONTENTS. X1U CHAPTER XII. REMINISCENCES OF STUDENTS. Qualifications for influencing young Men His especial Mission Tribute to his Memory, by Mr. W. J. Burton Recollections of Pro- fessor Lippett Stringent Discipline Interest in the Students in Missions Method of Study Effect of his own early Training. Reminiscences of Mr. R. 0. Kellogg Dr. Olin's Return from Europe in 1846 Reverence for his Character Exalted View and Theory of Right Ready Appreciation of good in Others Genial Humor Power over Language Clearness and Scope of Thought His example a Stimulus to Effort Impression produced by his last Baccalaureate. Valedictory of the Class of 1851 Page 462 CHAPTER XIII. RECOLLECTIONS OF DR. OLIN, BY THE REV. ABEL STEVENS. Charity and Humility Social Character Warm Affections Schol- arship Original Powers of his Mind Comprehensiveness Ener- gy of Thought Power in the Pulpit Oratorical Defects Massive Thoughts Incident in his early History Elaborate Style Phys- ical Development Cause of his ill Health Conservative in his Opinions A warm Friend to theological Education in his own Church to the Missionary Enterprise His Death 475 Sketch of Character by Rev. Dr. M'Clintock Intellectual Being High Morality Humility and Charity Singleness of Aim Genial Na- ture Power in the Pulpit His Life, Spirit, and Death embodied in a Strain of Wordsworth's. LIFE AND LETTERS, CHAPTER I. THE DANUBE HOMEWARD BOUND. DR. OLIN sailed from Smyrna on the 5th of June for Constantinople, where he arrived on the llth. After making some short excursions in this beautiful city, and enjoying delightful intercourse with the American missionaries, he went to bed with a fever, which con- fined him to his room for eight days. The discomfort of this illness was greatly alleviated by the kind at- tentions and Christian hospitality of the Rev. Mr. Ham- lin and his wife, in whom he was truly happy to rec- ognize the sister of his dear friend, the Rev. Samuel C. Jackson. After his recovery, he spent a week in ex- ploring, with his usual indefatigable energy, the city and its environs ; and from the ample notes made of these excursions, of his ten days in Athens, his fif- teen days on horseback among the mountains and val- leys of the Morea and Continental Greece, and of his voyage up the Danube, it occurred to him, after the publication of his " Travels in the East," to prepare two volumes, uniform with these in size. In pursu- ance of this design, he had already written out for the press his observations on Greece and Constantinople, A2 10 LIFE AND LETTERS. when he was induced to abandon the idea of publica- tion ; and the notes on the Danube, intended to form the basis of a second volume, were left in the rough. On the 29th of June, he bade farewell to the kind friends who had so greatly contributed to his comfort, and furthered his objects in visiting Constantinople. With Mrs. Hamlin first seen as a young girl in her father's house amid the green hills of Vermont, then a Christian matron, performing gently and gracefully the varied duties of her oriental life he was next to meet in the better land. In the same year, God called these, his servants, from the East and from the West, to sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in His kingdom. The month of July he spent on the Danube. " A few pencil lines," as Gray somewhere remarks, " are worth a cart-load of recollection afterward ;" so Dr. Olin's penciled notes, written mostly on the steamer, may be considered of no inferior value, especially as recent events have invested that country with peculiar interest. Journal. July 6th, 1840. This has been a day of excessive heat. The small islands yesterday and to-day are some of them beau- tiful, being covered with an impervious low copse, perfectly green. In the evening we passed a large village on the left, with a respectable mosque. Behind is a vast plain, bound* ed by the lofty Balkan a fine view. To the right of the vil- lage is a three-arched stone bridge. 7th. We reached Widdin, on the left bank, early in the morning, and stopped to take in merchandise. A large mosque, three stories high, is close to the shore, whence a WIDDIN CALOFAT. 11 company, singing, and with a green flag, entered the town. I followed them to the opposite side of the city, where a crowd was gathered to witness the departure of pilgrims for Mecca. The bazars which I traversed are ample, but meanly built of wood, and badly supplied. I saw massive salt in cubes two feet square, iron roughly hammered, long piles of bales of cotton, a cargo of which we take for Vienna it is in bales of one hundred and fifty pounds ; bags of coarse black and gray striped wool. It was brought, two bales on a horse, from Macedonia ; it is of a bad quality, short staples, like the shearings of broad-cloth. Many houses are of wattled branch- es of trees, plastered with mud mixed with short straw. There is a good deal of lumber in the town. I saw seven- teen of the twenty-three minarets said to be visible. The country is gently undulating, and just above are swells on the right bank. The population is composed of Turks, Jews, Greeks, Armenians, and Bulgarians. The Bulgarians have light hair and blue eyes ; their dress is a frock and trowsers, red sash, and skull-cap. Widdin is an extensive fortress, with fosse and abatis ; the walls are of stone the embrasures upon them of earth, kept in place by wicker-work. A little above, and nearly opposite, is the large village of Calofat, to which the number of flocks in its vicinity, and the white tents of the shepherds give a pleasing effect. At If P.M., the mercury under the awning on deck was 99. July 8th. At seven this morning we are opposite a village on the right, built of wicker-work small round huts, &c. This bank of the Danube, so long a dead flat, is at first an undulating plain, and, two miles from the shore, is a ridge of the Oriental Carpathian Mountains, beautifully wooded up the side, and the top spotted with yellow fields of wheat. The left bank is high, and conical hills form the background. The Danube bends to the north. The Wallachian side is beautiful. Gently swelling hills and vales, cultivated fields plentifully intermingled with rich wood, and now and then 12 LIFE AND LETTERS. a white cottage. It is a new sight. The Wallachian Laz- aretto is on the bank, and consists of several respectable white houses. 91 A.M., at Trajan's Bridge. A pile of masonry stands on both shores, close to the water. It is from ten to fifteen feet high, and composed of rough stones in cement. The bridge seems to have been narrow in proportion to its length, which was about one mile. Just above, on the right, is a fragment of a wall, fifteen feet high, said to have been a part of the Roman camp. Other ruins, less visible, are scat- tered around in the vegetation. The whole region is beau- tiful. The boat stopped at 11 A.M. Higher by one or two miles is Scala Gladova, where the Austrian flag flies, and where the boat of the other side of the river stops. Here is a wattled village, the chimneys the same, the roof thatched. Just opposite, on the left, is a Turkish fort, with several good buildings within, and a mosque. It is called Feth Islam, or Gladova. A mile higher is the Servian village of Glado- nitza, where we anchored at 11| A.M., too late to get to Or- sova to-night. We stay on board till to-morrow morning in an ill humor. This is a vile village of twigs, thatch, and mud. The opposite bank is a mountain of slate, which dips from the Danube at a great angle. The passage from here to Orsova is made in boats towed by oxen, or carriages, which are immense baskets, something like a coach in form, and suspended on wheels. The soldiers who guard the banks of the Danube in Moldavia, Wallachia, and Servia belong to the principalities, and are not Russians. The dress of the Servian and Bulgarian female peasants is a white handker- chief tied upon the head, a long gown of white cotton, a col- ored petticoat, open at the sides, reaching half way from the knees to the ankles, and confined at the top by a girdle They come for water with two buckets, pendent from the ends of a lever, which they balance on the shoulder, and they wade in the river to fill these vessels. The men, who are as THE LAZARETTO AT ORSOVA. 13 straight as Indians, have long light hair. There are large warehouses of wicker-work for salt a government monopoly, and the unloading is done from the high poops of ships. July 9th, 1840. We left Gladonitza early this morning for the Lazaretto at Orsova, distant sixteen miles. Our convey- ance was a large, flat-bottomed boat, with a shingled roof, painted green inside and out, and towed by four white oxen. A huge boat, laden with the merchandise, had twenty oxen. Gladonitza is a wicker-work town. The granaries are im- mense baskets on posts. At the distance of a mile and a half, the mountains of mica slate come to the river with a steep slope. They form many swells, varying from five hundred to eight hundred feet, and are covered with a low growth of wood. The scenery is very beautiful. About half way between Gladonitza and Orsova is " The Iron Gate," where the rock runs quite across the bed of the river, leaving now sixteen inches of water ; but, when dry, the rock ap- pears a great part of the way. It is more than two thousand feet long. The current here is very swift, and the rock op- poses an effectual barrier to the passage of steam-boats. There are on the left the remains of an ancient canal, which is not now allowed to be kept open. Two miles below Orsova is Old Orsova, a ruinous Turkish fort, built of brick. On the left is Fort Elizabeth, built by dueen Elizabeth of Hungary, and finished by Joseph II. of Austria. A subterraneous pas- sage, a mile in length, leads to the opposite side of the mount- ain. Here is the last mosque ; and, on reaching land in Or- sova, the first sound was a fine church bell. I thank God, who has brought me to a Christian land. A soldier, with a gun and bayonet, walked by our boat ; a woman drove the oxen. The men wear long hair. Quarantine at 12. The Lazaretto is in a considerable vale, surrounded on all sides by well- wooded mountains. Our apartments are small ; our court sixty -nine feet by forty-five, where a mixed company are gathered together. Our Wai- 14 LIFE AND LETTERS. lachian guardian knows no language but Wallachian. The garden in the interior is planted with shrubs, and the peaches on the trees are as large as partridge eggs. Grain is white for the harvest. July 19th. We left the Lazaretto at 3 P.M., and reached Orsova at 5, after much ceremony at the custom-house and passport office. Our books, of which as well as all other articles we had to make report on entering the Lazaretto, are taken to-day, plumbed, that is, put under seal ; and they will come into our hands again at Semlin or Vienna, if not found to contain dangerous opinions. The countryman's cos- tume is loose trowsers often bordered, petticoat, and figured jacket, a red girdle, and a hat with a semi-sphere crown and broad brim, turned up all round. The female costume is a gay head-dress of a red kerchief tied on the head with one end flowing, a two-folded apron of gay colors and fringed at the bottom, with boots. On Sunday evening, a number of good-looking peasants were dancing to the music of the flute and violin. Orsova is a neat little town of one thousand in- habitants, with two churches, and houses whitewashed and covered with long shingles. I saw many fine Vienna-made carriages for Odessa and other Oriental places, proofs of grow- ing wealth and civilization, and of improved roads. I here saw hogs, the first I had seen, except two or three, since I left Syria. The German beds here, as in Hanover, are short, narrow, and foul ; the wash-basins are most inconveniently small. We saw three women to one man in the field ; some of them had distaffs, and others had a child, slung in a bas- ket or on their backs. The men are employed in military service ; and the women are made hags, prematurely old and ugly, here, as in other countries of Europe, by this rude ex- posure to the sun, and by their hard labor ; a great contrast are they to the veiled and secluded women of the East. We are now amid the celebrated passes of the Danube, through the Carpathian range, a wild and sublime region. PASSES OP THE DANUBE. 15 The river, which is two or three hundred feet wide, is rapid and deep, and full of eddies and rocks. Narrow passes suc- ceed each other at short intervals. The mountain is a thou- sand feet high, with nearly perpendicular sides, and top cov- ered with brushwood. Our road along the Hungarian bank is blasted in the mountain, and has an overhanging gallery. The ancient Roman road, opposite, on the Servian bank of the Danube, was cut in and under the rock, and was said to be roofed. It was fifty miles long, and in some places it was a mere platform for many miles, overhanging the river, and resting upon beams mortised into the face of the perpendicu- lar cliff. Men wear conical sheep-skin caps, with long black and white wool. Sandals are made by perforating a bit of skin, of proper size, with holes along the border, and drawing them on the foot with a thong. The women in the field are naked to the hips. We passed three towers two on shore, very ancient, and one on a rock in the water, which is reached by a bridge, and which is still used. July 2lst. A small Austrian fort on the right, connecting with a small island in the river. A mile further is the Ser- vian castle Romor, which is semi-ruinous, with four towers on a rocky point. There are said to be Roman ruins near. The mountains cease even the hills, on the Hungarian side, are lost in an immense level, a little above the water, with a low sand ridge in the background. The Danube is from one to two miles wide, muddy and swift, with low brush- covered islands, much as it is three hundred miles below. 31 P.M. Semendria on the left a small Servian town, half concealed amid foliage, and appearing well from the boat. Close to the water is a triangular fort of the fifteenth century, built by a Servian prince. Its inner wall is battle- mented, and strengthened by twenty-four battlemented tow- ers. A long window is seen in the side of the towers looking within. Two or three lower towers stand near the angles 16 LIFE AND LETTERS. on the river. There is an outer wall like the first, but lower, and without towers. Servia is beautifully variegated, and much wooded. Hungary is a vast plain. 6 P.M. Just opposite there is a large Servian village of mud and thatch, very mean, but full of small trees. The country is hilly and brushy. On the Hungarian side, the land barely rises out of the water, and is mostly in grass. There are several villages in the distance. The guard-houses, which occur every mile and a half, are raised on posts four or five feet high. Great heat. July 22d, 1840. Arrived at Semlin after dark last night. For a considerable distance below, the Danube is very broad, and imbosoms many islands covered by willows and coarse grass, and rising just above the water. We sailed close to the fortress of Belgrade. This town is finely situated on a high point, at the junction of the Save and Danube. Belgrade, though Servian, is held by Turkish troops a troublesome compliment to the empty claims of the sultan, useless as well in war as in peace. The immense plain of Hungary shows scattering villages fertile, but badly tilled. At Semlin we leave the Banat, the girdle or military front- ier. This singular institution, which had its origin in the sixteenth century, was established in this region wasted by the Turks, and peopled by the refugees to defend it from the Turks to act as a sanatory cordon, and to prevent smug- gling. It is a check of Hungary, a nursery for soldiers, and its extent is eleven hundred miles long and sixteen broad. Every thing is military. Duty from sixteen to sixty for land, and the soldiers are employed two thirds of the time. From five to eight thousand are stationed in guard-houses, on bord- ers, heights, and rivers. Villages are under military regime ; so is all domestic and farm industry schools and churches every where. The soil is badly tilled, mostly by women, who are very vulgar. The soldiers wear a homespun uniform, sandals, and cap ; and in summer, white trowsers and shirt. THE BAN AT SEMLIN PE TE R W AR D E IN. 17 They are good soldiers, and devoted to Austria, not to Hun- gary. From eighty to a hundred thousand may be mustered, who must go any where in time of war. The cause is now ceased for this peculiar institution, which devotes this region to comparative barbarism. It were much better to have reg- ular troops. The military frontier goes up the Danube, above Peterwardein and Neusatz, from which to the Theiss ; the region maintains a river fleet of boats. Semlin has wide, regular streets ; decent, small, white houses, with many gardens and trees. Around is a fosse and stockade, made of logs from ten to twelve inches in diameter, and from ten to twelve feet high, set close together in the earth. I saw six churches and several warehouses. This is a place of great deposit from the Save, Theiss, Danube, &c., for lumber, hides, wool (long and coarse), and grain. I saw many stores for tanned sheep-skins, with wool for winter clothes, and to line coats, and for sandals. The streets are clean. I met many corpulent women. There is some silk business ; the cocoon winders get twenty kreutzers and food per day^; others work from four in the morning to eight in the evening. The Castle of Hunniades is on a high bluff overlooking the Danube. It is a quadrangle, faced in and out with brick ; the rest rough stones in mortar. There are four round tow- ers, one at each corner. It commands a boundless view ; much land covered by water on the Hungarian side ; a dead level, with extensive forests of oak and ash. A group of gipsies were seated near the old tower. July 23d. Left Semlin at midnight. We had a disagree- able night. More passengers and great noise. The Hun- garian young men are reckless and boisterous ; play and drink hard. One is a noble, who played all day, and at Semlin drank all night nearly ; slept in his boots ; and yesterday morning sent for a band of music, and he and a few more caroused all day. His bill was five hundred florins. At 18 LIFE AND LETTERS. night he brought the band on board ; but the captain, after a few minutes, forbade their playing. Peterwardein, on the left bank, is approached by a very winding course of the river, which imbosoms small islands. It is a strong fortress, on a high point, in a bend of the Dan- ube, which flows close under its guns. A range of bulwarks runs just above the river, and incloses a large area occu- pied by barracks, &c. ; and a high elevation is surmounted by the citadel overlooking the river and city. The ramparts rise one above another in great beauty. They are topped with green turf. It is calculated for ten thousand men, and may yet be a bulwark against Russia, though no longer of use against Turkey. It is named from Peter the Hermit, who once assembled the crusaders here. Peterwardein is joined by a bridge of anchored boats to Neusatz, on the right bank. 41 P.M. Illok a station of the boat, built of sections of trees five inches in diameter. On the hill is a large church and convent, with battlemented walls. The bluff is finely wooded to the top, and gives a very charming air to this site. 5|. A large village on the left bank, and the ruin of a cas- tle on the high bluff. The most common tree on the Danube throughout its course is the willow ; in the lowest ground, mere brushwood ; in the higher, that is, above high water, it is often from one to two feet in diameter, low and spreading. Scattered over the vast pastures, it resembles the apple-trees of a New England orchard. The Hungarian and Russian la- dies, of whom we have a number on board, knit perpetually. The heat to-day has been oppressive, the mercury 88 at 6 P.M. No breeze, and the boat so slow as only to raise enough to bring the smoke and heat under the awning. July 21th, Gi A.M. The boat is in the midst of a vast sea of tall grass and low willows, with occasional islands of wood, through which the Danube winds in all directions. It im- bosoms many islands, all thickly clad with brushwood. No HUNGARIANS A CITY OP COTTAGES. 19 hill or habitation in sight. We passed the Drave, the limit of Sclavonia, early this morning. 9 A.M. In the midst of a village of mills turned by the strong current. The wheel, which is of great diameter and length, plays between two boats, anchored in the strong cur- rent by large chains. One boat is a covered house for the mill ; but the millers' families do not live in it. These mills work with much force, and might be adopted in the Ameri- can rivers. Immense savannahs of grass and brushwood. 9|-. Anatin a re-enforcement of passengers. The better sort of Hungarians are a good-looking people have strong features, long, ample noses, good foreheads, &c. They wear bushy hair before, but cut it close behind, and cultivate care- fully enormous mustaches. They come on board with huge German pipes in their hands, and a showy tobacco-pouch, worked with beads or other ornaments, on the arm, like a lady's reticule. The ladies dress very finely on board, wear much jewelry, and have a good deal the air of fashion, though all is of rather ordinary material. One always observes with pain the abasement of the common people, who take off their hats with an air of profound humility, which seems to say, " Forgive me for breathing the same air with you." 5^ P.M. Stopped at Mohacs, which covers a large area of low, flat ground, close to the Danube. With the exception of some government establishments, and a few shops and dwellings, it is a city of cottages, built mostly in a uniform style small, low mud walls, whitewashed gable to the street, windows of four small panes, thatched with long reeds from the marshes, and surrounded with small inclosures of wick- er-fence, better made and more neatly kept than usual. A good many willows are scattered through the place. Trench- es, containing green water, run on one or both sides of the wide streets. Multitudes of dirty and unhealthy looking, but not ragged, children were running about the town. There are a few shops, and from fifteen to twenty good churches, a con- 20 LIFE AND LETTERS. vent, and fine gardens. A vast region around the opposite side of the Danube is flat, and covered with brushwood. Seven girls wheeled the coal into our boat no man there. Their costume was a blue skirt or apron, and blue handker- chief tied simply over the head, and hanging down with many beads behind. Some have sheep-skin jackets, and some, in full dress, had tufts of hair carried round the face and hanging down behind, all shining with grease. The men, in broad-brimmed, semi-sphere crowned hats and loose trow- sers, have long, coarse, tangled hair. Sheep-skin caps are used by many. Mohacs is famed for two great battles between Turks and Christians ; the first adverse, the second favora- ble to the latter. We stayed here till li A.M., received a crowd of passengers, and had a more uncomfortable night. Every thing grows daily worse on this line. We sleep on slides, on plank sixteen inches wide, which are drawn out parallel, and six inches apart, and a cushion is laid upon this. Hitherto I have had two ; this night I had to balance my- self on one full business for a man wide awake. Hungary, though semi-barbarous, was for centuries the bul- wark of Christianity and civilization, and probably saved Western Europe from the fate of Asia Minor. Often routed, it always contended, and the power of Turkey was stayed and broken against this shield, till Europe grew stronger, and the zeal of Turkey and the terror of her name declined. Hungary was to Turkey what the aroused population of Spain was to Napoleon. The vale of the Danube is the largest and most fertile in Europe, fit to give food to fifty millions of people. It is uncultivated after sixteen hundred years, through the influence of bad governments, wars, &c. Under favorable circumstances, Hungary, Servia, Wallachia, Moldavia, &c., not to mention Asia Minor, might take the emigrants of Europe, to whom they offer more natural ad- vantages than America good soil, cleared of forest, mild climate, proximity, &c. The races here are not improvable, HUNGARY PESTH. 21 nor fit to be free. There is a want of people. Governments know not how to mend matters. Impossible ! Slow prog- ress of improvement by steam-boats four new boats are build- ing. The Danube is difficult of ascent, through its shallow water and rapid currents : from twenty to forty horses are seen towing the large boats. The navigation is only fit for steam-boats, of which there should be many more. With American enterprise, there would be fifty in two or three years. Every thing here is slow quarantines indolence jealousy want of capital, of trade, of manufactures all impede the march of improvement. Yet with such a region on its banks, with Vienna, Pesth, and other fine towns above, and Constantinople and the East below, the Danube should swarm with boats like the Mississippi. It is, with the ex- ception of the American, the most extensive line of inland navigation in the world. The Hungarian gentlemen strip off their coats if they find it too warm at dinner. They all raise the hat and bow, wish- ing you well when you sneeze. There is much freedom in their intercourse with their servants. This is the case, too, with the different sexes, though less deference is shown to females than with us. The nobles do not associate with the richest merchants. They hold all lands, and have no sym- pathy with the people. The Magyars are of uncertain ori- gin either Asiatic or Scandinavian. They conquered Hun- gary in the eighth century. Latin is spoken by the educated classes, and it was used in the Diet till five years ago. July 26th. We arrived at Pesth at two P.M., and I stopped at the Hotel of the Glueen of England, which is well kept, and close to the bridge. I am very unwell, and have been so from Orsova, but have great reason to be thankful for God's mercies, which have supported me. Pesth is on the east side of the Danube, and may be two miles long. It is compact- ly built of brick, plastered and whitewashed walls thick. There are many palaces, as in Vienna, subdivided for a num- 22 LIFE AND LETTERS. ber of families, which gives a noble appearance. Pesth is a fine-looking city, and very striking on coming from the East, where all private buildings are mean. A noble range of buildings fronts the Danube, leaving room for a well-paved street, a landing-place, and a space for carts, cofTee-houses, hotels, and offices. There are several fine streets of stores immediately in the rear of this. The shops are richly filled with all sorts of merchandise, vying in splendor with stores in Vienna and Paris. The signs, like those in Vienna, are beautiful pictures of men, women, animals, and wares, the work of the first artists. The public buildings, besides the usual supply of respectable, but not remarkable, churches, are the military hospital, just below the town, near the Danube ; the military school, in the same neighborhood ; the Stadt-house, a venerable-looking edifice, with a lofty steeple ; and some immense barracks. These, as in all Europe, cover no small part of the city ; but here are two, especially that of Joseph II., of immense size, the latter said to be the larg- est in the world. It has many cells under ground, and, the Hungarians say, was built for a prison. Draying is awk- wardly done sometimes by three yoke of oxen or two pairs of horses, in long wagons, which answer in these wide streets, or in single wagons, the pole lashed to the horse's neck. Near Pesth the Danube is very deep, and a vast number of boats, all clumsy, show the greatness of its trade. There are large floating baths, besides several others on shore, which are some of the largest and finest buildings. There are many fine cafes arid hotels. The Cassino contains an extensive reading-roorn, and the best restaurant. One great defect of this really fine city is the want of trees. It has many spacious squares and broad streets, all bare of verdure and shade. The merchants, who are mostly Germans, are rich. One sees, however, no thronged streets. There was a great freshet in Pesth in March, 1838, caused by the breaking up of the ice in the Upper Danube. A large GREAT FRESHET IRON BRIDGE. 23 part of the town, was flooded ; the water rose from five to six feet in the churches, and in several places the soil was swept away some feet in depth, traces of which I saw. All the mills, and upward of two thousand houses, were destroyed, and several thousands of lives were lost. Among these were many prisoners confined in subterranean cells a reason why magistrates made no report of numbers. There is great dan ger when the ice in the Danube above breaks up before it does below. Soldiers are stationed at proper intervals to watch, and the ice is broken by the discharge of cannon against it. Immediately opposite Pesth, on the left bank, is Buda, or Ofen, the ancient capital. The Danube is passed on a bridge of forty-five flat-bottomed boats, moored with chain cables at the bow and stern of each. They are also tied to each other with massive chains. These are the piers of the bridge, which is three hundred and eighty-eight paces long. It is a toll-bridge, and the only one, perhaps, on which the poor alone pay, and every well-dressed man goes free. The nobles of Hungary are exempt from taxes the poor peasants paying all ; and the reason given for the anomaly I have referred to is, that toll might be asked through mistake of a nobleman. The collectors draw the line very low it is only of coarsely-clad poor persons that money is exacted. A bill has passed the Diet to build an iron bridge, where all must pay. This is a triumph of principle. The work is slowly advancing. This iron bridge, fourteen hundred feet long, is to be six years in building. A Scotch engineer has the direction of it, and fifteen English laborers are employed at thirty shillings a week. The Hungarians can not haul large loads, nor cut stone, nor work iron well. Mr. had great difficulty to induce them to come at the ringing of the bell, and to give up smoking when at work, which took one fourth of their time. They now do nearly double the amount of labor they performed at the outset. The iron is brought from England. 24 LIFE AND LETTERS. Two lofty hills rise on this bank of the Danube almost from the water's edge, with a deep valley between them, which approaches the river just opposite to the end of the bridge. The south hill, or that below the bridge, is five hundred feet high. It is surmounted by an observatory, and commands a grand view of Pesth, Buda, the Danube above and below, and the vast plains of Hungary. The north hill is less ele- vated. It is crowned with the large palace of the vice-king and other public edifices, the whole inclosed in strong walls, and forming a citadel that commands both cities. Buda is built in the valley between these two hills, all around the second, and along the river for three miles or more a part of the way consisting of a single street, so close do the hills press upon the water, and again spreading out into a considerable breadth. With the exception of the pub- lic buildings, it is much inferior to Pesth, and has but little trade. One fine street runs along the summit through the citadel, which contains private dwellings as well as public edifices. The adjacent country is uneven and picturesque, though not populous. It is covered with vineyards. Buda or Ofen is said to have thirty thousand inhabitants, Pesth eighty thou- sand. One steamer goes down the Danube weekly, and two to Vienna. There is a daily line of coaches to Vienna, which take only three passengers. A thriving village in America would have more intercourse with its market-town. Here is a great capital, and mart of a kingdom of twelve millions of inhabitants the most fertile country in Europe for which these meagre means suffice. More steamers are to be built. European steamers are never crowded like those in America, two hundred passengers being the most I have ever seen, ex- cept in a single instance. These are divided into two or three classes, paying different fares, and not allowed to en- croach on the space allowed to each other. The main cabin and quarter-deck have thus rather a select company. The THE HUNGARIAN DIET. 85 same arrangement prevails at table, where there is never a rush for places, and seldom a noise. July 28th. I saw Mr.W . I learned that Hungary and Transylvania have no connection. The Archbishop of Tran- sylvania sits in the Hungarian Diet for no reason. Hun- gary is divided into fifty-four comitatus, formed of the de- scendants of the Magyar noblesse some of whom are now poor and of those who hold lands of the crown. Large towns have no vote. Pesth has two in the comitatus of ten thousand votes. The comitatus has local powers, controlling roads, bridges, schools, religion, election of judges (for three years), of delegates to the Diet, &c. It can negotiate in some cases with foreign powers. It instructs members of the Diet, and recalls them at pleasure. The terms of citizenship differ a little the clergy of the various churches, Catholic, Luther- an, and Calvinist, having preference in different comitatus. The Diet has six hundred members, all paid and lodged. It ought to sit at least once in three years, though not always called by the king (emperor), who dissolves it at pleasure. It votes by comitatus, each of which must agree upon its vote in Diet. The Diet grants soldiers and taxes, and has extensive legislative powers. It chooses the Palatine four candidates two Catholic, one Lutheran, and one Calvinist being nominated by the crown, and other high officers. Mem- bers of the oomitatus pay no taxes directly, no tolls at bridges, ferries, roads, &o. Rent is paid in so many days' work. The Catholic Church has much land the Lutheran, Calvinist, and Greek are supported by the public. Formerly a major- ity of the noblesse were Protestant, but, with much gallantry, they changed their faith for that of their queen, Maria The- resa. Many are still Protestant, who hold equal rights and many offices. Transylvania, where Protestant influence pre- dominates, is a prosperous region, and has good schools and colleges. The people are of a Saxon stock. Joseph H- tried to introduce German in all courts, &c., but his successor gave II. B 26 LIFE AND LETTERS. up the attempt. Now all is in Hungarian, which has much improved the literature. Signs are in Hungarian, German, and often French. The Diet last year refused the grant of soldiers till they got a promise of amnesty to certain impris- oned liberals. Lands in Hungary yield six per cent., or are sold at eighteen years purchase. An estate commonly has a part let irreclaimably for one tenth of the produce and a number of days' labor. The rest is free, and is let for two thirds of the product. The proprietor has a farm to employ the labor. Land may now be bound for debt, which improves its value, and it will rise. The Banat is better tilled than Hungary. July 30th. Left Pesth in the steamer Galatea at 6 A.M. A cool morning, and fine, clean boat, with two hundred passen- gers. Two miles above Pesth is an island laid out in lawn and garden, and well kept by the Countess Palatine. Indian corn is the common crop. Wheat is in the harvest. Villages are frequent and populous, and the banks variegated and picturesque. At 11 o'clock we passed the ruined Castle of "Wissegrad, the palace of the ancient kings of Hungary, situ- ated on a lofty rock, with an extensive wall and several tow- ers one near the water. Hills, or, rather, low mountains, their summits covered with brushwood, press to the water's edge on both sides of the river. About two o'clock we passed Gran, a small town of from ten to twelve thousand inhabit- ants, and the ecclesiastical metropolis of Hungary. A cathe- dral, on a lofty rock, close to the Danube, begun in 1826, is still incomplete. It is within an old citadel, which is also to contain an Episcopal palace, a convent, and other buildings on a scale of great splendor. It was begun by the archbishop, and an annual appropriation is made by the Diet. It will be the finest church in Hungary. The hill is covered with vines. The Danube above Pesth is less turbid than it is two or three hundred miles below, though its volume and rapidity are not perceptibly less than below its junction with the Save.Drave, NAVIGATION OF THE DANUBE. 27 and Theiss. At 6 P.M. we are again in the midst of an immense plain, pretty well tilled. An Austrian major (to guard their principles) does not allow officers to travel in En- gland, France, or America. They go to Russia. Others en- courage their officers to go to Algiers to learn war ; but Al- giers refuses to receive them. They may go to Circassia. At 71 P.M. we pass Comorn, at the junction of the Waag from Gallicia with the Danube. It is the Gibraltar of the Danube, and the strongest fort in Austria. The environs are flat, and some outworks are on the opposite side of the Dan- ube. Francis I. retired here when Napoleon took Vienna. There is a considerable town, and a bridge over the Danube on piers to an island, and on boats thence to the left bank. The fort was never taken. Here are four hundred con- victs. July 3lst, 6 A.M. The Danube is more than a mile wide, full of islands and sand-banks, which, with the shores, are only just above water. The navigation is difficult, the wa- ter not being more than four feet deep, and the channel very crooked. One dragging machine of twelve horse power is employed near Presburg twelve are wanted. There are boundless flat lands on every side. In low water, this is a portage, and passengers are conveyed in tow-boats to a steam- er above. 121 P.M. A copious rain is falling, and some snow. Both banks of the river are covered with forests of small trees. The boat advances two miles the hour. We stopped at dark a mile below Presburg, being unable to stem the current. The Danube has risen very high, and is a perfect torrent, and very turbid. August 1st. We came to Presburg this morning. It is a handsome town, close to the Danube, over which a bridge of twenty-seven boats extends. The palace is on a very com- manding hill. We left Presburg before 8 o'clock A.M., in a carriage for Vienna. 28 LIFE AND LETTERS. On his arrival at Vienna, Dr. Olin was at once pros- trated by the fever which he had taken in the fens of the Danube, and which now attacked him in the form of congestion of the brain. Days of partial derange- ment, and several weeks of dangerous illness, ensued ; but he was under the care of a skillful physician, and friends with Christian sympathy and unwearied kind- ness ministered to the lonely sufferer, till, by the good providence of Grod, he passed the crisis of his disease safely, and was enabled, though still feeble, to leave Vi- enna on the first of September, in an Austrian diligence for Munich. He remained three days in this beautiful city, and then proceeded, by the way of Constance, Zu- rich, and Basle, to Paris. His anxiety to return home, and his extreme weakness, led him to forego a tour he had contemplated amid the mountains and valleys of Switzerland ; and, after resting three days in Paris and twelve in London, he embarked at Liverpool in the steamer Acadia for Boston, and made " one of the roughest, and, at that time, one of the shortest voyages ever made across the Atlantic." REST AND RECOVERY. 29 CHAPTER II. REST AND RECOVERY. DR. OLIN spent the first winter, after his return from Europe, at Columbus, G-eorgia, in the charming family of his sister-in-law, Mrs. Howard, where he enjoyed every comfort that watchful kindness and affection could provide. In the spring he went to reside with his brother, in Salisbury, Vermont. Many changes had taken place in the home circle during his absence in Europe. His father had sold his farm in Leicester, which was not compact enough to suit him, and had purchased another in the adjoining town of Salisbury. The house to which he removed was burned down shortly after their change of residence, and in it were consumed all Dr. Olin's letters' to his father and fami- ly, written before his departure for Europe. His broth- er repeated the exact words of some of these letters, which informed his father of his conversion, after a lapse of nearly thirty years ; and on being asked how his memory could retain them so long, he replied, " I lived upon them ; I never had expected to see my broth- er religious." The old familiar faces were not there to greet the returning traveler. His married sisters, with their families, had removed to Illinois ; and his eye asked in vain for the father's room, memorable from childhood, the great arm-chair, and the venerated form that used to fill it. His brother's place was a pretty, 30 LIFE AND LETTERS. cheerful New England home a new house, white, with green blinds, not far from the site of the one de- stroyed by fire. At a little distance rose the white spire of the church, built through his instrumentality, a new and powerful interest in religious things having been awakened in the neighborhood by the prayers and la- bors of this invalid Christian. On the 3d of August, 1841, Dr. Olin writes to his brother from Saratoga Springs : "I expect to set out for the White Sulphur Springs, Virginia, in two days. I may return to Vermont this fall, even if I winter in Georgia. All is uncertain now. I am lately quite feeble, but hope to be a little stronger in a few days. Upon the whole, I do not think my prospects brighten. I must be ready for any result. So must my friends. God will do right. I trust in Him. I may not de- spond. I offer body and soul to Him through Christ." He returned to Vermont, and spent the winter at Salisbury. A pleasant family circle, consisting of his brother, his brother's wife, his niece, and his youn- gest sister Clarinda, who is thought to resemble him more in person and character than any of the family, gave him the needful relaxation of society ; while with renovated health the ability to use his pen for four or five hours every day furnished occupation to his mind, gave an object to his life, and made the winter pass cheerfully. On the 19th of December, he wrote from Salisbury to his cousin, Mrs. Dwinnell, with whom he had formed a very agreeable acquaintance at Saratoga a few months before. " Early in August I went from Saratoga to New York, on my way to the White Sulphur Springs, RELIGIOUS JOY. 31 in Virginia. I, however, found myself unable to pro- ceed, and being admonished by my physician that the attempt would be not a little rash, I stopped three weeks on Long Island, and then came, with some difficulty, to this place. I, of course, gave up my plan of winter- ing in Georgia, and concluded to try the fierce climate of my native state. For three or four weeks I grew worse, and pretty much concluded that I might end rny race in a short time. With the cooler weather I began to improve, which I have done steadily, and I now am better than at any time within the past year. This is most unexpected to me, and the occasion of many thanksgivings. I trust I have been quite willing to submit to the will of God even in dying ; but if I may live still more, if I may live to labor for His cause and glory, it is much to be preferred. And I can truly say, no part of my life was ever made so abundantly desirable by rich and permanent religious enjoyments. It is according to the blessed economy of the Grospel of Christ, that one so bereaved and beaten down in the dust as I am should find indemnity in sufficient grace and hallowed anticipations. I know you will rejoice with me in this, and thank Grod in my behalf, and it is for this purpose, as well as to speak for the Savior's praise, that I thus write. My dear brother is in very feeble health, with no prospect of recovery, though, I hope, none of speedy death. No one is riper for heaven. He is a mature and lovely Christian, in whom is no guile. He has sold his farm here, and bought a house in West Poult- ney, where I have also bought a field to try the effect of labor. We go there, if possible, in April." 32 LIFE AND LETTERS. Mr. Olin sold his farm because he found that the necessary attention to it, and the anxieties connected with the religious interests of the neighborhood, were too weighty for his feeble health. This he did with the advice of Dr. Olin, in whose judgment he placed such implicit confidence that he always consulted him in every business transaction. In the spring, they removed to West Poultney, a pretty village in the lap of the hills in the southern part of Vermont. It is about half a mile from the New York state line, so that, in Dr. Olin's daily drives, his road frequently skirted two states. The house is pleasantly situated, nearly opposite the Troy Conference Academy. Dr. Olin added a wing contain- ing a large, cheerful room, with windows on three sides, and a small entry, with a door opening on the grassy court-yard. In this room he finished writing out his Journal in the East for the press, and here he expected to end his days ; but God had more work for his serv- ant to- do on the earth. Dr. Olin did not keep a journal of his religious life. He said he had begun it several times, but he was ar- rested by the fear that, unconsciously, he might be in- fluenced by the thought that the eyes of others would rest upon the page. At another time he said that these records, written in the still hour of meditation, would present the soul in its most devotional attitude, and would scarcely give a fair idea of its ordinary life. He has, however, erected four great landmarks of his spir- itual progress, which he did with the deepest solemni- ty, and as in God's immediate presence. The first com- memorates his entrance upon that life which leads to glory, honor, and immortality ; the second, on his birth- ENTIRE CONSECRATION. 33 day, and on beginning his journey through the desert, records an act of renewed self-dedication to Him who, amid the "dreary and unprofitable Sabbaths of heathen lands," was keeping his soul in peace, and enabling him to walk by faith. The third, in all humility and godly sincerity, bears testimony to that work of grace in his heart, which gave him "perfect repose in Christ; and the fourth, written as in the near prospect of death, declares his strong conviction that "the law of affin- ities will have place," and that the appropriate home of his spirit would be in " that gathering in the heav- ens." The third record in his journal is as follows : Salisbury, Vt., March 13th, 1842. I have been much exercised, for many months past, upon the subject of a universal dedication of myself and all I pos- sess to God. The experience I have had of His goodness, especially during my residence abroad, and under the pecul- iar privations and afflictions which I was called to sustain in my domestic relations, and in being separated for so long a period from the house of God and all social religious priv- ileges, has made a deep impression upon my mind. I have felt something like surprise that, under such circumstances, I was not quite carried away by the strong tide of my own corruptions, and quite estranged from the love of Christ, to- ward whom I was and am conscious of great infidelity and neglect. Still, I was kept from apostasy, and returned to my country not worse, I trust, but rather a good deal improved in spiritual things. I found the throne of grace especially ac- cessible, and confidence in God unusually strong and easy to be called into exercise. Upon the whole, I enjoyed more peace than I ever did before, and felt a more assured and steady faith in Christ. I have also been led to the exercise B2 34 LIFE AND LETTERS. of more lively gratitude, and have had a more affecting sense of the agency of Divine Providence in the things which have befallen me. This has especially been my frame of mind for the last year and a half, and it now is. I have seemed to be led by these feelings to a sense of obligation to con- secrate myself fully to God, and to seek perfect conformity to His will, which I never realized to the same extent be- fore. I think that I also perceive the reasonableness of the Meth- odist doctrine of holiness, and its entire conformity to the ten- or of the Scriptures and to the genius of the Gospel, with a clearness and application which they did not formerly pos- sess in my view. And I have been led strongly to desire a deeper experience in true vital religion. I have endeavored to make a new and solemn offering of soul and body to Christ, and am earnestly seeking for the experience of perfect love. I record my feelings now and my vows with the hope that this may give increased stability to my purposes, and be the means of inciting me to greater diligence in seeking for all the fullness of Christian experience. It will have this effect only if God will, in whose sight and in humble reliance upon the merits of Christ and the aid of the Holy Spirit, I here enter iny solemn vow, which I have often made, and which I now more formally repeat, that I will from this hour, and through all future life, make God's will the sovereign rule of my actions that I will perpetually present before him, in living sacrifice, my body and soul, my life and health, my humble talents and attainments, my influence, my time and property, to be used only as a trust for which I am strictly accountable. I will not consult my own will, but always labor to fulfill, so far as I may, the duty implied and imposed upon Christians in the Savior's prayer, " Not my will, but thine, Father, be done." I humbly pray for grace to keep this solemn pledge, which I here record with great delibera- tion, and under a deep sense of its import. O God, give rne ENTIRE CONSECRATION. 35 this needed grace for the sake of the infinite merits of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, in humble reliance upon whose blood I have come into thy presence with this act of self- dedication. Saratoga Springs, August 7th, 1842. Since the above record was made of my experience and feelings, I have continued in nearly the same general frame of mind and heart as is there expressed. My feelings are much influenced by the condition of my health, and, as my complaints are, to a great extent, nervous, I experience con- siderable vicissitudes from day to day, and at different hours of the day. It is not unusual for me to have great clearness and comfort in my morning devotions, while in the evening, and at other times of the day, my mind is clouded, and my feelings little moved. Still, I am preserved by Divine grace from all despondency. I am able to exercise faith and hope, commonly gratitude. Indeed, there is no view I can take of God and his dealings with me, that does not very impress- ively teach the duty, and really excite the feeling of grati- tude. I have encountered an unusual proportion of sickness, disappointment, bereavement ; but these, as it seems to me, have only afforded more and more eminent occasions for the manifestations of the Divine mercy. This is precisely that part of my history to which I am accustomed to look when I would provoke my heart to thanksgiving and praise ; I often think that, had I been less afflicted, I must of necessity have received fewer tokens of God's care and 'love. I am able to see his hand with especial clearness in the deliverances which he has wrought for me in the provision which he has made for my comfort and safety, when sick and alone in foreign lands, among strangers and heathen in restoring me to life arid a degree of health so often, when I had no reasonable prospect of recovery in supplying all my wants, and grant- ing me a degree of pecuniary independence, and even ena- 36 LIFE AND LETTERS. bling me to give aid to others in imparting to me perpetual cheerfulness in keeping me from being burdensome to my friends, either through my pecuniary wants or my infirmi- ties, my complaints being such as usually demand no nurs- ing, and as almost never to render me helpless. And as to my direct religious enjoyments, how very strik- ing and impressive is the goodness of God in the preservation of my hopes and comforts under circumstances apparently so little favorable to growth in grace and progress in spiritual life ! I am wholly unable to attend upon the preaching of the Gospel, or other means of grace, social or public. I can perform long journeys, take long walks, read or write for sev- eral hours in the day ; but a single half hour in a place of public worship produces sleepless nights, and days of disorder and anguish. As a matter of duty, I refrain from exposing myself to these painful and certain consequences of enjoying what I always prized as the dearest of privileges. It has cost me a protracted struggle to yield willingly and witluwt re- serve to this privation. It is precisely in this matter that I have the clearest manifestation of the Divine mercy. These years of estrangement from the sanctuary have been my best years. I never before experienced such rest in Christ such calm, unshaken faith such ready, unreserved consent of the heart to the Divine will such an utter surrender of my own will to God's. I can not find, after much prayerful examin- ation, that I have any disposition to do or to love any thing that is not well-pleasing in His sight. I write this with great self-distrust, but as the result of self-examination. Such a state of the affections in a Christian so little advanced, and so specially undeserving as I feel myself to be, appears in- credible to me, and I am constantly looking for the develop- ment of a still unsanctified nature. In the mean time, I ad- mire the grace of God ; I am surely thankful for the mani- festations of regard toward the most unworthy, unprofitable of his servants. ENTIRE CONSECRATION. 37 I would record it as a special mercy that I have been en- abled for several months past to study from three to five hours daily. I went up from New York to my brother's, in Vermont, last September, in a deplorable state of health, hav- ing little prospect of rising again to my usual low standard of strength and comfort. I began to mend in October. On the 26th of November I began to revise, or, more properly, with regard to the most of it, to recompose my journal in Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine. I aimed no higher than to prepare a few pages for the Methodist Quarterly Review, at the editor's request. I was, however, able to continue the work with not more than eight days' interruption from sick- ness, until the 1st of August, when I left home for this place, having gone over the ground I design to occupy with a pub- lication. I had a strong desire to prepare my travels for the press, but had quite despaired of being able to do it, as I had been sick more than a year after my return to the United States. I esteem it a great mercy to have been able so far to accomplish this desire. It is hastily and very imperfectly done. I was afraid to take time to elaborate. My object I hope my main object has been to produce a work that may be useful, especially to the young, in leading them to a great- er reverence and a better understanding of the Holy Scrip- tures, the natural though indirect tendency of a work writ- ten with truth and simplicity upon these countries. I have thought that my extensive acquaintance in the Methodist Church, and the confidence of many excellent ministers which I am happy to enjoy, might open the way for the circulation of such a book, and that I might in this way do some good, though laid aside from the ministry. These have been my aims and hopes. I have not expected literary reputation, nor sought it. I have offered the work from day to day, I may almost say from hour to hour, during its progress, to God. I have constantly sought his help to guide me, to save me from low, ambitious, selfish motives ; and now I think I may 38 LIFE AND LETTERS. say of 'it, at least as confidently as of any undertaking of rny life, that it has been enterprised and prosecuted " in sim- plicity and godly sincerity." The employment prosecuted under the influence of such motives and such trust in God, has been a source of daily pleasure. I commit the result, as I have often done, to the Almighty, praying for his blessing upon it through Jesus Christ. An extract of a letter from the Rev. Samuel C. Jack- son describes in vivid phrase an interview between friends, the warmth of whose affectionate attachment knew no change. Theirs was one of those friendships which look to a more favored clime for full develop- ment and expansion. "At our next meeting," says that gentleman, "he had reached the summit of his usefulness and fame. He had been successfully connected with different colleges as a pro- fessor or president. He was ranked among the first of the most celebrated preachers of his country ; he had visited for- eign lands, and, as an author, had instructed the public by his excellent volumes of travels, and what was then deeply and personally interesting to myself during this tour Provi- dence cast him, weary and sick, into the family of my youn- gest and tenderly-beloved sister at Constantinople. There, for some weeks, her kindness ministered to his comfort, and her gentle and delicate spirit made him welcome. In America, she had shared her brother's regard for him who was now her guest, and to meet and befriend him in her own home abroad was a pleasure which only Christian friendship which has been bereaved and denied could appreciate. As soon as circumstances permitted, after Dr. Olin's return to this country, he met me by appointment at my own house. I was then a country pastor, having had all my religious and professional life, since we last saw each other, at the home of my childhood, among the green mountains of our native A MEMORABLE INTERVIEW. 39 state. It was a memorable interview ! Few such occur in any life ! It was the second since we met in his sick-room on the day of his graduation. Between that day and our next meeting at my father's house, what a change in him ! And now again, since the morning of our parting in Shafts- bury, Vermont, what a change ! Then he was on the thresh- old of his public life. Then all his achievements for the Church and the world were in the future. Now he was in the meridian of his strength. The distinction predicted of him was a reality. He was the mature, honored, great man of commanding intellect, extensive attainments, rare pow- ers of eloquence, wide-spread usefulness, great influence over the most numerous religious denomination, his name and fame still extending, " ' And the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, this was a man? His varied treasures of information, gathered by extensive travel and intercourse in this country and in other lands ; his shrewd and common-sense observation of men and things ; his vivacious, facile, and original powers of expression ; his unconscious exhibition of intellectual supremacy, together with his entire simplicity of manners and generosity of spirit, rendered him no ordinary guest and companion at a greeting of old friends, or in any circle of friendship and intelligence. " My last interview with him was at my place of business in , where I had met him once before. It was during the winter previous to his decease. With a common friend he entered, gave his cordial greeting, dropped a few of his expressive and pointed utterances, with a friendly welcome to his home, and withdrew, to come no more. He is dead, and yet he lives lives on earth. True greatness is immortal !" 40 LIFE AND LETTERS. Letters written in 1841 and 1842. LXIII. TO THE REV. BISHOP ANDREW. Saratoga Springs, July 8th, 1841. You have perhaps thought me forgetful of my promise to write you, if able, soon after my arrival at my Northern home. I have not been able to write hitherto, and my nieces, whom I intended to employ as amanuenses, were absent from home attending school. I had a pretty rough voyage of nearly eight days. I was much pleased with Captain Brown. I stayed at New York eighteen days, including five of the Conference, which I vis- ited three or four times, fifteen or twenty minutes at a sitting. I was compelled to leave by ill health. I found my brother in improved health, for which I can not be thankful enough. I stayed with him about three weeks, and have been here the same period. As to my health, I remained in about the same state until since I arrived in this place, languid and dyspeptic, just able to walk a few yards.* I am now stron- ger, which I ascribe to the water. I walked nearly a mile this morning the greatest exploit I have achieved since last fall. I of course take some encouragement, and hope the water may prove decidedly useful to rne. Be that and all things as God wills. I am much more habituated to look upon my complaints as susceptible of no remedies but such as their final result will introduce me to. And God has long enabled me to look to that with composure and joy. I can not expect health, and yet who shall limit the Divine power and goodness ? Him may I honor in death or in life. If the water continue to act favorably, I shall probably spend the summer here. I have not yet bought the little farm I spoke of, though I * The night of the day of his arrival in the United States, he had a return of the malignant fever contracted among the fens of the Danube, from the effects of which he had not yet recovered. CORRESPONDENCE IN 1841. 41 am in treaty for one in West Poultney. I fear the climate, and am yet without any settlement of mind upon the matter. My Southern attachments and habits draw me powerfully in the opposite direction. I sent you and brother Capers walking-sticks from Mount Sinai, by T. Stewart. His is marked Jordan, but is, like yours, from Mount Sinai. LXIV. TO MISS MARY ANN HOWARD. Salisbury, Vermont, October 13th, 1841. I have felt much concern at not hearing from you for so long a time, and I am led to fear that a letter which I ad- dressed to you at the Merriwether Springs miscarried. It must have been near the last of August when I wrote to you. I was in New Utrecht, on Long Island. I left Saratoga about the middle of that month to proceed to the White Sulphur Springs, but on reaching New York I found myself too unwell to proceed, and my physician advised me to give over my jour- ney as highly perilous. I had intended, after spending some time in Virginia, to proceed to Georgia, after returning to New York for a few days only, if able. I spent three weeks on Long Island for the benefit of sea air, which proved injurious to me, and I then came, with no little difficulty, to this place, more feeble and emaciated than I had been for many months. I have since regained a good deal of strength, and am in that respect, very much as I was last winter in Georgia possibly, a little better. Here it is my intention to spend the winter, unless some indications should compel me to attempt a jour- ney southward, which, with my entire unfitness for traveling, I should greatly dread. The fierce winter of this climate, which already begins to show its teeth, has many terrors for me ; but I hope, by means of warm apartments, and an am- ple provision of blankets and other like appliances, to endure it without serious inconvenience. I shall, no doubt, have fre- quent occasion to think of the sunny skies of beloved Georgia, 42 LIFE AND LETTERS. as I certainly shall of the dear, kind friends there, who form a stronger attraction than even the balmy climate which they inhabit. I should be glad to spend all the winters as well as summers that may remain to me in their "agreeable society; but God disposes of these things for us, not always as we should choose, but always for the best. You will perceive, from my present arrangement, that I can not comply with your father's request to bring him a pair of horses and carriage. I wrote with regard to this before. I will thank you to make my affectionate saluta- tions to your father and mother, to sister Caroline, Arabella, and all the children. I think with great pleasure of you all, and pray that our merciful God may shower his blessings upon you. I pray especially that you may all be made the partakers of his rich saving grace by Christ Jesus. Of this I must always be allowed to speak as the best of blessings, as it is, of all things, most precious to me. Surely I shall, through this abounding grace, enjoy many dear friends in heaven. One, beloved above all, has gone before me. Many more you, my dear niece, and your dear family, though yet exposed to the world's temptations I ever hope and pray to meet, with her, in heaven LXV. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON, BROOKLYN. Salisbury, November 20th, 1841. I lose no time in answering your favor of the 16th instant, which came to hand last evening My residence in Vermont this winter will depend wholly upon the state of my health. I shall certainly remain here if I can ; and so far the cold weather has appeared to be favorable, certainly not injurious to me. Indeed, I have to thank God for a de- gree of strength and comfort quite beyond any thing I have previously enjoyed since my return to America. If, contrary to present indications, I should be compelled to seek a milder climate, I should, in all probability, continue my flight to Georgia. CORRESPONDENCE IN 1841. 43 I am greatly afflicted at what you say of the feeble health of Dr. Bangs. I trust that your fears magnify the danger, es- pecially as he is now better. I pray that it may be long be- fore his eye grows dim or his natural strength abates. Fail or fall when he will, however, he will have run a noble race a man of God full of good works ready always for any service shunning no responsibility he will leave few equals behind him in our Church. I have known but to love and respect him for nearly twenty years Write rne at large on all church matters. I am in a corner, you in the locus of light. LXVI. TO DR. AND MRS. PALMER. Salisbury, November 29th, 1841. Your very friendly letter was duly received, and though I have not made haste to thank you for the kind solicitude for my health, and the affecting religious sentiments with which it is fraught, yet I now do so with unfeigned sincerity. I have long esteemed the intercourse which I have been per- mitted to hold with devout lively Christians to be one of those peculiar blessings for which I am bound to thank God, and take courage in my journey to heaven. I had nearly said peculiarly bound to thank God ; but with the rich ex- perience I have had, and still have of the Divine goodness, I know not on what to lay especial emphasis in my thanksgiv- ings, except upon the gift of Jesus to be the Savior of the world, through which all other benefits flow out upon us in profusion. Beyond this, I know not for what I should be most grateful. I am soon lost if I attempt to enumerate to myself or before God the unnumbered blessings I enjoy. None of them seem to be small, since all are the occasion of quickening my sense of the Divine goodness, and of inclining me more and more to commit all my ways to God. All seem to me to provoke to love, to faith, to resignation ; in a word, to that blessed repose in God which describes, better 44 LIFE AND LETTERS. than any other expression I am able to use, the state of my mind and heart. I hardly know what I could ask for in addition to what I receive day by day from my heavenly Father. Great religious joys I do not possess, nor, in my situation, do I think them greatly desirable. I think I am enabled, in some good de- gree, " to rejoice evermore to pray without ceasing, and in every thing give thanks." I rather pray for a continuance of this state of the heart, and for such faith, resignation, and uprightness of soul as may at once insure its continu- ance, and constitute a meet sacrifice to God through Christ, than for any new bestowment. I am here led to speak of the most prominent topic in your letter. I cordially believe in the doctrine of Christian holiness, and my highest aspiration is that I may live with- out sin, perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord. God is my witness how fervently and incessantly I strive and pray for this. And yet, when I ask for the witness that I am now in the enjoyment of this high spiritual state, I feel something like a rebuke. I am thrown back upon the peace I enjoy the sweet repose in Christ which I feel to be mine the ab- sorption of my own will into that of God, which, so far as I know myself, I constantly experience. What more should I ask ? only that these things may remain in me and bring forth their proper fruits that I may be ever thankful, humble, faithful, believing, simple-hearted, and blameless and zealous in my life. I will confess, however, that this general spiritual satis- faction, if I may so speak, is accompanied by a strong wish, I may say is a little disturbed at times, by a wish to possess all that I yet lack of the fullness of the Gospel, whether that deficiency may consist in a want of deeper experience or a clearer evidence. I pray for this from day to day, and I am filled, in answer to my prayers, with confidence in God, and unruffled, inestimable peace. You will know how to receive CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 45 this very frank disclosure, and I hope will pray for me often, that I may be led in a perfect way. My health is a good deal better than it was when I saw you last. I ride and walk pretty much as I desire, and am usually able to devote one, two, or three hours to books or my pen. This is better than I expected I should ever be, even three months ago. I allow myself to look to the possibility of once more doing some service to the Church, and I thank God that I am enabled to look to such a consummation even without much perturbation resigned perfectly to his good pleasure. The cold weather, not yet intense, has not harmed me, and I still hope to winter here. I hope to hear from you as often as may comport with your more serious duties and engagements. XLVII. TO THE REV. JAMES FLOY. Salisbury, Jan. 30th, 1842. I was gratified by the receipt of your favor of the 17th in- stant. It did not reach me until the 25th, a week after I had attentively read your thanksgiving sermon, with which you were so obliging as to furnish me. Some of the choicest pleasures of my life I owe to the correspondence of pious, in- telligent men. Years of ill health, during which I have been unable to reciprocate their favors, and the shafts of death, which have fallen thick upon the ranks of my cherished friends, as well as desolated my domestic circle, have left me but a comparatively small number of those with whom I was accustomed to take sweet counsel. I have felt, and still deeply feel, the irreparable losses I have been called to sus- tain ; but I would not complain, nor indulge too much in sad- dening regrets. These dear friends are happy with Christ. I would not recall one of them no, not even her who was more to me than all other friends but the blessed Savior, whom she now sees face to face. I am becoming, with my improving health, more and more 46 LIFE AND LETTERS. conscious of social wants ; and I was glad to receive from you what, I hope, will prove only the first of many communica- tions touching the precious interests of the Church, and the best means for promoting our own attainments and improve- ment in personal piety. I would very gladly offer any observations upon your ser- mon that would afford you a useful hint, but I have little confidence in my own opinions and tastes in matters of this sort. I have written but little, and no sermons having been compelled to act, when I had a little health, rather than study or write. I should make but a poor return, however, for your frankness and kindness, should I forbear the expres- sion of my opinions because I do not think highly of them. I was gratified by the perusal of one or two articles ascribed to you in the Methodist Quarterly. I was especially struck with your simple, direct, transparent language, and appropri- ate, felicitous illustrations. I was at that time unacquainted with your ability to write well, and I thought more than once of writing to you to request you to improve a talent which you could make useful to the Church. I hope to have the pleasure of reading the productions of your pen frequently in our periodicals. It is incumbent on those who can write to improve their talent in this way. The direct fruit may be less than in some other kinds of effort, but not so, I think, the indirect and ultimate LXVIII. TO THE REV. MR. MERRIAM. Salisbury, Feb. 26th, 1842. I have long been anxious to hear from you, and I think I may say, have waited for a letter to which I thought myself in some measure entitled, from my having written to you from Georgia in March, 1841. The winter is unusually mild, and we have had but little sleighing. The mercury has not been below zero in Fahren- heit above half a dozen times. My health is much improved CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842.' 47 since the coming on of cold weather. I spent much of the last cold season in the South, and then came back in May no better. The summer I passed at Saratoga and on the sea- coast, after which I came here in September, and have been here ever since. I came up from New York in that time in a deplorable state as seemed probable, to go to my final rest in a few months at most, by the side of our departed parents. Such was not the will of God concerning me. I began to get better in October, and from the last days of November I have been able to walk or ride daily ; have not once lain upon the bed on account of sickness ; and have read or written every working day, except two or three, as long as three or more hours. I am beset with a very strong desire to visit you all in Il- linois. Still, it looks much like an impossibility. I have too many infirmities to render journeyings and absence from home tolerable to me. It takes a multitude of appliances to make me comfortable. The slightest deviation from my us- ual and straitened diet puts every thing wrong. I dare not, if I were able, come into the West in summer or autumn. In winter the traveling is bad. Have not I made out a case of impossibility ? Yet I may be better, and so able to grati- fy my strong desire to visit you. I do not expect to do any good any where. I am used up too far for that, I think. If God wants me, he will give strength. He does not need me, I kiiow ; but it may possibly comport with his designs to use me a little more. Still, I do not expect it. He enables me to repose in Him in Christ and I am not careful ; having, however, a desire rather to work a little more than to depart at present. Do write a very full letter, and tell all about yourselves, and brother and sister Adams of your children, your farms, your prosperity, and your progress in making yourselves com- fortable in .that new country. Are you all content glad that 48 LIFE AND LETTERS. you went ? We all unite in many good wishes and prayers for you all. Affectionately yours, S. OLIN. LXIX. TO THE REV. BISHOP ANDREW. Salisbury, Vt., March 6th, 1842. I received your letter of January 21st. I fear to obtrude upon you in your deep afflictions, though I very often am with you in spirit and in my sympathies. I am sure you have the benefit of many prayers offered by pious souls, both for the removal of your sufferings, and that grace may be given you to bear them aright. After all, however, that sympathy or even grace can do, the burden of such trials as you are called to endure must be heavy indeed, and it is only in the end, when their fruits appear, that they cease to be grievous, and become even joyous. There is a tendency in these overwhelming sorrows that is always good a tendency to drive us to God, which almost reconciles me to them ; and I have seldom ever enjoyed more than when, unable to rise in faith, I have sunk in self-despair unable to take hold on God, I have fallen upon him in sheer helplessness. Such a frame sometimes enables me to claim God as my heavenly Father with peculiar effect, and to enter into a special com- munion with Christ, as one who may be touched with the feeling of our infirmities. Pardon me ; I know to whom I speak, and I am not to admonish or teach. You will not judge me so harshly as to think so, but I spontaneously fall into such a train. I am acquainted with grief. I can not look upon scenes that are passed but with agony of spirit. Time has broken their tyrannizing power over me, but it has not healed the wound in my spirit ; and when I meet with a sufferer, such as God is making you, I find myself telling my own tale of sorrow, the particulars of which come up be- fore me, mingled, I know not how, with religious feelings. I weep and rejoice together. My heart is at once broken CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 49 and soothed the rod arid the love of God his severity and his compassion rise in review before me, and divide the present, as they seem to have done the past, between them. In such a state of feeling I find an apology for speaking of myself, which, I fear, my most indulgent friends can not ad- mit without some effort. I still indulge a hope that you will be spared the bitter cup which seems to be preparing for you, and that you will long be happy in the unbroken family cir- cle where you have hitherto gathered so rich a harvest of quiet, heart- felt enjoyments. I hope you do not allow your- self to be anxious about the Church and the services which you are prevented from rendering. I am sure there will be no feeling on this subject but one of deep sympathy and of regret for the causes which detain you from your beloved work. 1 am little able to give you any information about the state of things even in the region about me I lead a life so very retired. I hear, however, of many revivals, and am confident that our cause is decidedly advancing through this North country. Our people make vigorous efforts, often great sac- rifices, to sustain preaching such as are unknown in many parts of the work. They are building many good houses of worship more by far than any other people, and every thing promises permanence. . . . . My increasing strength, which is yet inconsid- erable, leads me to inquire, " Lprd, what wilt thou have me to do ?" I want to preach above all things, but probably shall never be able. As to teaching, I both fear and rather dislike it at least, I would prefer other work. I have had a letter from Dr. Bascom about being president of Transyl- vania College, upon which I threw cold water. God is my witness that I have an unfeigned desire to serve him to the utmost of my ability, how and where he may choose ; so feel- ing, I wait and pray for direction. II. 50 LIFE AND LETTERS. LXX. TO DR. AND MRS. PALMER. Salisbury, March 20th, 1842. Your favor was duly received. I have deferred answering it to the present time, partly because I have been very much engaged, and partly because I would not show too much carelessness in encroaching upon your time, which I know is fully occupied in useful pursuits. Indeed, I often think that you are peculiarly fortunate in this respect I mean in being able to devote so many hours to public and social religious engagements in addition to the performance of your profes- sional and domestic duties. Next to the entire consecration of life to the promulgation of the Gospel in the Christian ministry, I am sure yours is the most excellent way ; I think, too, it has some advantages even over the ministry, which, with one class of good men, falls into a sort ^.professional piety, and with another, less numerous, class into a continu- ous excitement, not very favorable to the calmness and pauses which are necessary for the purpose of making up our reck- oning and marking our actual progress. Strong passions and unsanctified affections will often consent to merge religious excitement and zeal, and flow along in the same channel with them even to swell their tide, when they quite refuse the processes by which the Spirit of God would purify or eradi- cate them ; and I think that it very often happens that men greatly absorbed in the promotion of revivals and other act- ive, exciting pursuits, find, when a season for repose and self- examination is allowed them, that the flame which they have aided in sustaining has failed to purge away the dross, and purify the gold of their own hearts that pride and self-will may even have grown strong in the midst of influences that have humbled many at the feet of Christ. It is, perhaps, left to a season of general declension to revive the graces and elevate the piety of the minister. He was too busy, too in- tensely absorbed before in building up the Redeemer's king- CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 51 dom around him, for which, indeed, he was for the time spe- cially anointed, to bestow much attention, upon himself. It has occurred to me that your course of life, which is made up of alternations of secular and religious engagements, may perhaps be as favorable as any other to the cultivation of deep piety, and for the formation of vigorous, healthful, re- ligious character. I need not say to you that I do not design a compliment by these remarks. I know too well that fa- vorable opportunities impose stringent and sacred obligations. Nor do I allow myself to think disparagingly of the holy call- ing of the ministry, which I love and honor above all pur- suits and. not the least for the opportunities which it affords of encircling the brow with a diadem of many shining stars. It is good, however, to contemplate the peculiar privileges and spiritual advantages of every situation in life. It tends to inspire admiration for the unsearchable wisdom of God, who has kncrwn how to connect with the condition of every good man peculiar facilities for becoming eminently pious and useful. It is a deeply interesting view to take of his dis- pensations toward the children of men. Who is able to say who can pretend to determine, which is the most favorable situation for glorifying God and working out their salvation ? When engaged in the active duties of the ministry, I have thought there was nothing half so favorable to growth in grace as the elevating, exciting scenes, and pursuits, and con- templations into which it leads the zealous, warm-hearted preacher. I have passed from the pulpit to a sick-bed, and found that a still holier place. I have drunk of a bitter cup of domestic grief, and even now I taste its dregs, yet Christ has made this the occasion of imparting grace such as I never knew before. I have been for years cut off almost entirely from the house of the Lord ; but, in the mean time, my pri- vate chamber the lands of the heathen the desert the ocean, have often, very often been made the gate of heaven to my soul. 52 LIFE AND LETTERS. I incline from my own experience, apart from the revealed word, to conclude that the circumstances appointed by Prov- idence are always, and without any qualification, the most favorable to our piety, and also to our happiness, now as well as eternally. Affluence and poverty, health and sickness, good fortune and misfortune, public or private stations, each is best for the Christian to whom it is appointed not in a roundabout theological sense, but really and practically best. One has, therefore, as much reason for gratitude for special gratitude as another. God does infinitely well by each even God could do no better. I rejoice in this view. I ex- ult in a hearty belief of it. I began with the intention of devoting this sheet to the subject of your last letter, but a train of thought, or, rather, of feeling, arose, which I did not invite, and supplanted the important topic for this time. I feel the deepest interest in that theme, and have the most lively sense of its importance. I trust that I am trying to press forward toward the mark. I am sure God wills us to be holy in this life. The whole Gospel plan supposes it. Indeed, nobody denies this it is only said the thing, if attainable, is never attained. I love my Calvinistic brethren as I do my own soul, yet I can but regard this as the natural bitter fruit of a fundamental error. God wills and enjoins what in practice and in fact is impos- sible ! He imposes a duty which even his grace does not en- able us to do. I wish that this one error was removed from the creed of this noble race of Christians. I expect to remove to West Poultney the day after to- morrow. I must go to the plow in quest of more physical strength. I am, for me, quite well. I mean to come to the Conference in May, when I hope to see you. CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 53 LXXI. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON. West Poultney, March 26th, 1842- I take an early opportunity to answer your favor of Feb- ruary 21st. You will perceive my change of residence. I came here last Tuesday, and my brother, with whom I live, two days later. After a fair showing of spring, we are again in the snow, though the weather is warm. I am to devote a portion of my time as much of it as I can to work in the field. It may be I shall gain some strength by it, which is what I seek only that I may employ it in a better way. It is my opinion, however, that I shall not be able to do much, if any thing, more that will even have a semblance of use- fulness I say a semblance, because I often think that my former efforts amounted to little more. Still, there was this reality in them that they were made in all sincerity, and, I trust, with a single eye to the will of God. This is my chief consolation in looking to the past. I can not see that I have done much good, but I have tried ; and I have certainly aimed at doing right upon right principles. This conviction of past unfruitfulness tends to reconcile me to my lot, present and prospective. It is probably better that my attention should be chiefly directed to the workings of my own heart, and to the cultivation of personal piety. To this high duty I seem to be left ; and I do not undervalue the opportunities afforded by retirement, by broken health, and freedom from the peculiar temptations to which a more public and active way of life might expose certainly would expose a man of my unfortunate tendency to self-confidence and ambition. I habituate myself to contemplate my situation in this light ; and I think I can discern the goodness of God in assigning my humble lot. I rejoice that you and others are allowed to honor your Master in higher and nobler fields. I trust I shall be thankful and content with the good opportunity I enjoy of saving my soul alive. I am much drawn out of 54 LIFE AND LETTERS. late after more devotedness to God. I am unusually sensi- ble of my want of a higher and steadier faith. I know not, my dear brother, how you could possibly do me a greater favor than by praying for me often that I may be humble and holy. I have been led to be very jealous of myself with regard to exciting topics and engagements which do not come within the unquestionable scope of practical, saving Christianity. It is so great a work to save the soul, and to do our duty in trying, in our measure, to save others, that there seems to be little time to attend to much else. I have been occasionally employed in revising a part of my journal in the East with some reference to publication. I still work at it ; but I could, indeed, wish that rny time were devoted to some pursuit more strictly and directly religious. This has afforded me satis- faction as an occupation; but I can not make a religious work of it, and I constantly experience regrets and misgiv- ings. I would burn every word if I did not believe myself trying to honor God in this attempt ; but I fear there is too much indirectness in it. There is certainly too much in the pursuit to awaken a desire for reputation, though I am per- fectly confident that I can win no fame by any thing I can do in this way. I traveled without preparation, and must publish, if at all, with slight prospects of nattering success. Still, it sometimes strikes me as, perhaps, a duty to throw out something which may be read by a good many of our young people, and which may keep out, as far as it goes, novels and other trash. I can be sure of giving truth in a plain way, which of itself may not be lost labor. I wander, however, or rather I rest upon a particular in- stance, when I was aiming to be general. I am jealous, I repeat, of all engagements that do not come fairly, at least, if not directly, within the embrace of the Gospel. I am, therefore, growing more cautious of saying what I think on other subjects on politics, abolitionism, ultra-temperance, CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 55 &c. They are all exciting subjects, in which Christians en- gage to the injury of brotherly love and charity. I am not conscious of being warm or excitable on any of these grounds, and yet, perhaps, I am ; and if not, I may move the feelings of others. LXXII. TO THE REV. DR. . West Poultney, March 27th, 1842. I thank you for your favor of the 21st instant, which I re- ceived yesterday. The very important subject to which it is mostly devoted has often engaged my attention, and, I may say, has often filled me with anxiety. I believe that our sys- tem has not worked well in large cities, and that, relatively, we are losing strength in these " great centres of influence." To what peculiarity of doctrine or economy these effects should be attributed is not, perhaps, quite obvious. I think you are right in ascribing much to the deficient education of our ministry, and to the principle of rotation. A more learn- ed and stable ministry, with equal piety, would, I incline to think, greatly increase our influence in the large towns. Per- haps, too, the general adoption of pewed churches and an abandonment of class-meetings, especially the former, would be requisite to put us on a par with others changes alto- gether which would leave us little or nothing distinctive but the name, since others have adopted our doctrines already, and we should, by the means proposed, virtually adopt their economy. The congregation rules in fact, when the pastoral relation, in its commencement and continuance, depends upon its will. In all of this there is not evil per se. One form is as good as another, if it produce as much good in the sphere of its operation, and upon the whole. This is with me the only question, when changes, not touching what is settled by Divine authority, are proposed in our system. Is our itiner- ant system better than any other yet tried for spreading the Gospel and saving souls ? Better, I mean, in the general, 56 LIFE AND LETTERS. and upon the largest scale. I believe it is. Experience has settled that question. Methodism has been fairly at work in the United States only since the close of the war for in- dependence say sixty years. It began with nothing with- out wealth, or learning, or colleges, or churches, or ministers, and with the whole world, in and out of the Church, its en- emies. In a period commonly assigned to the career of two generations of men, it has outstripped all the established de- nominations has diffused piety throughout our vast wilds, and done much to purify all the other Churches. We must conclude, also, that it has saved more souls now in heaven than any other Church during the same period. And it is now as vigorous, as diffusive, as pure, as prosperous I mean, upon the whole as ever, and increasingly intelligent and re- spectable. I think that I here claim nothing which can rea- sonably be denied to us, and I have claimed nearly every thing that belongs to the Gospel. It is a small matter, in this broad view of the subject, that we are somewhat deficient in the graceful or the convenient. The people we have raised up are as pious as those of other sects, and they are much more numerous. The main objects of Christ's death are thus completely satisfied. He came to seek and save the lost, which has been and is our work. The next important question with me is, to what is this unparal- leled success owing ? To our doctrines ? In some measure, I think, but not chiefly. Others now preach them substantial- ly, and have done so for twenty years, and yet we maintain all our relative superiority. It is not to our learning, nor, I think, to the superior zeal of our ministers, so much as to oth- er causes. I ascribe our great success, under God's blessing, to our itinerant system. There is no other important feature in our system which is peculiar to it. This principle of ro- tation has carried the Gospel every where has, by God's blessing, made the weak strong has been instead of learn- ing to our untrained young men has been the bond of a CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 57 comprehensive unity which gives strength to the feeble, and secures a favorable reception and ministerial influence to those who would otherwise be nothing. With the itineracy, our ministry has outstripped all others. They have saved more souls, which is their proper work. Now I apply all these considerations to every proposal that impairs the itinerant principle. I fear to modify it so as to suit towns. I do not deny that partial good would be secured ; but I fear general evil. Such changes would de- stroy the unity and symmetry of the system. They would probably render it impracticable. Men would not make the sacrifices they now do, if the system was made to operate partially. Perhaps Methodism was designed for the world not the city so much. Better to give up the towns to oth- ers entirely, than to hazard changes that would diminish its efficiency to save souls. Strong, rich, intelligent congrega- tions are to be preferred to others as a means, not as an end. And, as a means, I admit their importance ; but if we can be strong in cities only by impairing our means of general use- fulness, we had better give them up to others who are likely to provide for them, and who are now essentially what we should be with the modifications proposed. We ought to have no ambition for any thing but to save as many souls as we can. This ought to decide every question of reform, or change, or improvement. This is the will of Christ concern- ing us. I try to form all my opinions on church matters with an eye single to this end. The Church that saves the most souls, in proportion to its means, is the truest Church, no mat- ter in what else it may be deficient. Many other things are desirable, and even necessary, but they are collateral and aux- iliary, as they are of very secondary worth. I trust you will take my views in the kind spirit that dic- tated this frank, unstudied expression of them. I believe your opinions on these practical questions are likely to be import- ant to do good or evil, and I am glad to communicate free- C 2 58 LIFE AND LETTERS. ly with intelligent and ingenuous minds. May God lead you to adopt the soundest principles, and to effect the greatest good. I mean to come down to the Conference, when it will give me great pleasure to see you. LXXIII. TO JOHN M. FLOURNOY, ESQ. (On the death of his father). West Poultney, June 25th, 1842. I received your letter four days since, containing the pain- ful intelligence of your excellent father's death. After all that I had heard of the unfavorable state of his health for several months past, I was unprepared for this result, and was taken by surprise. Indeed, I had not supposed that the bodily complaints of your father were of a character to excite much apprehension could his mind be restored to tranquillity, and for this favorable change I continued to hope and pray. God has wisely and mercifully ordered the event otherwise, and has seen fit to take his afflicted servant to a better rest. We should have wished for his restoration to that happy, calm, religious frame which has characterized the man and his piety for so long a period, and could have resigned him the more willingly after such a change ; but God saw how unimportant it was to him, who was chiefly interested to wait for any such partial alleviation, and took him at once out of his painful, trying condition, into one of heavenly vision and complete bliss. It was a gracious dispensation to the sufferer, and we ought to seek for resignation cheerful, per- fect resignation to the Divine will. Your dear, honored father has been to me a faithful, long- tried friend. Frequently, during the period of our acquaint- ance, have I had occasion to regard his friendship one of the most valuable of the earthly blessings accorded to me by Di- vine goodness. The unreserved confidence which I have al- ways been enabled to repose in his discretion, as well as in CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 59 his perfect uprightness, and deep, enlightened piety, has made me quite easy with regard to my worldly interests during a series of years of utter prostration and helplessness, in which care and anxiety would have proved highly injurious prob- ably fatal to me. He has well understood my situation, and in all his letters to me and my dear departed wife, has taken the most generous pains to guard my mind against anxiety, and to lighten my sense of obligation. And now that God has exalted my dear, honored friend to his own right hand, it becomes me to submit without complaint to a bereavement which I am prepared to feel only less than his own family circle. I weep with you all. I pray that you may be sup- ported by the divine consolations of the Gospel. I am thank- ful that your excellent mother knows so well the worth of this blessed resource, and how to avail herself of it. May the mighty God of Jacob the widow's God support her in this her hour of need. I sympathize with her with the sol- itary, sad hours that are before her more even than with the bereaved children. Yet Christ will give her light the day- star from on high will shine upon her, and she shall be com- forted. What, my dear friend for such my love to your father, as well as all I have known of you, strongly induce me to regard you what shall I say to you ? Pardon me for obeying the strong impulse of my feelings. I am under the impression that you have hitherto neglected to take God for your portion. I could not but rejoice at the tone of your letter, and even hope that you were no stranger to the Spirit of Christ. I want to urge you to make this affliction the occasion of tak- ing the decisive step, and of making a full, avowed consecra- tion of your life to the Savior. This is certainly God's will concerning you ; it may be one part of his design in visiting your large family with mourning. May you hear and obey his voice. 60 LIFE AND LETTERS. The following touching account of the serene and joyful departure of Mrs. Andrew is taken from a long and deeply interesting letter, written by Bishop An- drew to Dr. Olin : LXXIV. Oxford, April 26th, 1842. On each day we thought her dying, and as often the work of blessing us and encouraging us was repeated. On one of these occasions, when panting for breath, she had, for some moments, scarcely been able to articulate. We had just risen from our knees, after commending her to God, she said, " I want to tell you how I feel. I feel like a little child that is just beginning to walk, and it is passing along a road that is muddy and rocky, but the father has it by the hand and is leading it. So it is with me ; I am passing through the dark valley, and the way is rough, and my feet are bruised, but I know my Father has me by the hand, and though he leads me a step at a time, yet he will soon bring me safely over." She seemed perfectly lost in astonishment that God should have so abundantly blessed such an imperfect, unprof- itable, and unfaithful creature as she was. This was the theme of her exultation the power, fullness, and freeness of the grace of God. " Much as I have suffered," said she, " I would not that there should have been one stroke or one pain less. I am not tired of the world there is no reason why I should wish to leave it. I have a kind husband and sweet children, and as kind friends as ever woman was bless- ed with ; yet I long to depart and be with my Savior. The battle is fought and the victory won, and now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." She charged me to be faithful, and devote myself to the great work of publishing a free and a full salvation ; " and now," said she, " when you all collect around my body and lay it in the grave, do not weep, but raise a song of triumph." ... It is a re- CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 61 lief to my full heart to speak of her to one who has known her so long, and who was so greatly beloved by her for she loved you with a sister's affection. LXXV. TO THE REV. BISHOP ANDREW (On the death of Mrs. Andrew). West Poultney, May 15th, 1842. I received your letter, fraught with the heavy intelligence of sister Andrew's death, on the 6th instant. I thought to answer it at once, but could not. My feelings were much affected too much to allow me to write. I was unwilling to add to your pain, and I had no word of consolation to offer. The solaces of religion were yours already, so far as nature could submit to receive them, and if they had not been, I was not in a state of mind to suggest them to another, or very fully to receive them myself. It was only two days previous to the anniversary of the darkest era of my own life that I re- ceived the intelligence of your sad bereavement, and the near concurrence filled me with such a vivid sense of my own ir- reparable loss, that I hardly understood the character of the agitating emotions that swelled my heart almost to breaking whether they sprung from sympathy or selfishness. And now my eyes are darkened by tears which I can not control. My sense of my own sorrows almost suppresses all other feel- ings. Yet I wept for the loss of dear sister Andrew, for you and your half orphaned children. I wept and still weep, and only find relief from such sorrow as I seldom experience by carrying your griefs, and theirs, and mine to the compassion- ate Savior, who careth for you, who is very compassionate, who can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, and who assuredly will, though it may be after days of heart- rending agony, appear for our healing and comfort who will cause a saving balm to flow in upon the wounded spirit, even from the dregs of the bitter cup of which we are called to drink. Do not infer, from my strange way of feeling and 62 LIFE AND LETTERS. writing, that I am not very much alive to your great loss. I ought to be able to speak as a comforter, as I trust I am recognized by you in the character of a brother and friend. If I had possessed more piety, more faith, I should long since have found resignation and settled composure under God's dealings with me, and have derived from them some lessons of submission and experience which might be blessed to the assuaging of the grief of other sufferers. It is not so with me ; I can only suffer with you ; I can not offer comfort. I am ashamed to write in this way to you, overwhelmed as I know you are with sorrow, and wish I had not begun, but I could not delay any longer, though I feared to trust myself. Well, God has taken our better parts to himself, and left us with but a poor excuse for loving this world. He has fairly shut us up to the one work of serving Him and getting to heaven, which is all the dearer and more attractive for the precious gems it has snatched from us. The compassionate Savior, I think, will not be displeased if we labor and long for that resting-place the more diligently and intensely, be- cause, in addition to the bliss of being forever with the Lord, we also covet a reunion with those whom the impulses of both nature and grace have taught us to love only less than His adorable self. I look back on my long acquaintance with your sainted wife with lively sensibility, and I shall not cease to remem- ber her unwearied kindness when I was a member of your family nearly twenty years ago. I was in bad health, and she felt for me, and did for me all that an own sister could have done ; and from that time she has seemed to me as something more than a common friend. On my return from abroad solitary, heart-broken, stricken of God one of the first messages of sympathy and greetings of welcome met me in the form of a kind letter from dear sister Andrew. I re- member well how directly it went to my heart, and made me feel, beyond any circumstance that I now recollect, that CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 63 J was again at home that I had friends still, though I had lost my all. The memory of these things is precious to me, now that God has taken her to himself; and I will remem- ber the message which she sent by you in your previous let- ter, that, though we should meet no more on earth, we should meet in heaven. Through the strength of Christ, I will meet her there. Yes, my dear brother, you will labor on, and gather many stars for your crown, and I shall wait in the midst of my infirmities, doing nothing, but still looking for the Lord's coming, with my lamp trimmed, and in the end we shall all yours and mine, you and I meet in heaven. Glory to God for this blessed hope, this only antidote. LXXVl. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON. West Poultney, June 5th, 1842. I reached home on Friday. I have made some visits and received some, and read up in part the large accumulation of papers which I found after an absence of a fortnight. To- morrow I hope to be at my work again, which has really be- come a great alleviation of my ennui, if not of more serious complaints. I had the pleasure of sailing up the Hudson with many of the preachers, including brothers Ostrander, Seney, Goodsell, J. C. Green, Creagh, &c. F. Garrettson, with his daughter and niece, came on board at Rhinebeck going to Saratoga. All this was pleasant, and the recital pretty well exhausts my stock of incidents. . I will venture to suggest a good rule, by the observance of which you will certainly be a gainer. Do not .let any body preach for you oftener than once in three weeks. Dr. Payson used to say that he felt about as grate- ful to a minister who preached for him as a hungry man would toward him who should eat up his dinner for him. This is excellent, and I used to have somewhat of this feel- ing. And now, were it possible, I would sooner preach Christ to men than enjoy any or all other things. I would gladly 64 LIFE AND LETTERS. suffer any degree of pain for it, or endure any privation not inconsistent with devotion to the work. Still, God wills oth- erwise, and I ought not even to wish, happy if I may save my own soul through the blood of the adorable Savior, whom it is the glorious privilege of others yours, not mine to proclaim. Oh ! may God anoint you afresh for this blessed work, and may this year be to you the most abundant of your whole life, in successes, in consolations, and in preaching. LXXVII. TO THE REV. MR. LANDON. West Poultney, July 31st, 1842. . You and I must not differ about this thread- bare, superannuated question. I would join your ranks to- morrow if I thought it right. How could I refuse, seeing I am soon to be judged ? I do most conscientiously believe, however, that no good is likely to come of your movement that none has come of it, and that it has done much evil. I do not say this for controversy, but to define my position. I love you and other Abolitionists ; but I think I understand this question as well as they. I think their course the course of many of them has been with us anti-Methodistical. To-morrow, if able, I am to set out for Saratoga, to rest a while, and then to come on to New York by the 15th of Au- gust. Where can I find cool quarters as well as comfort- able ? I design to be some time in New York to attend to the publication of my Travels. I am just now at the end of the task of composition have got over the ground for the first time, though the revision will call for toil. I thank God for bringing me to this point, when, should I be able to work- no more, another hand might finish the task. I began the work, I think, November 26th, 1841. During above eight months, with the exception of coming to Conference, one week of sickness, and the interruption of removing from Salisbury, I have toiled from three to six hours daily. I mention it with unfeigned gratitude to God for his aid. It has been uncx- CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 65 pected and abundant. I never felt my obligation to God more deeply in any event or act of my life, and I may say to my friend that I have never labored at any pursuit with a steadier reliance on the Holy Spirit, with more dedication of motive and effort to God, to the exclusion, as far as by grace I was able, of selfish, ambitious motives. I have got through, hastily and poorly, the book which will certainly do me no honor, and will do no good, without God's blessing. I am try- ing to commit this and all things to Him, and to "be careful for nothing." I succeed, at least in some measure, better than formerly, and I am therefore happier than I ever was before. I find God present with me in a new sense. I rest in God. I am satisfied with Him. His will is mine. Mine is swal- lowed up in His. Christ is my all and in all. Bless His holy name. Do I speak foolishly ? I speak to a brother be- loved of what fills my heart. I do not feel boastful, God is my judge, but I am constrained to confess His goodness to me LXXVIII. TO JOHN M. FLOURNOY, ESQ. Saratoga Springs, August 4th, 1842. I received your letter five days since in West Poultney. In the multiplicity of engagements with which I was occupied, preparatory to making a journey, I omitted to answer it till my arrival here. I felt a lively concern at your accident and providential escape. It was so like what befell your beloved father, and the consequences in his case were so lamentable, that I am the more anxious to hear that you are perfectly recovered from all the effects of your fall. In the mean time, I am tru- ly thankful that you escaped without even more serious in- jury, and that you are so soon even partially restored. May you very soon be quite reinstated in your usual good health. I trust that you see and gratefully acknowledge the merci- ful hand of God in this deliverance, as well as in the deep afflictions which have so recently visited you. 66 LIFE AND LETTERS. I do not think that I mentioned to you in. my last, though the occasion was so suited to it, a circumstance which recent events have made peculiarly affecting to me. In the last interview which I had with my excellent friend, your ever honored father, you became the special subject of our conver- sation, as you had frequently been before. I always made special inquiries in reference to you having been led to feel a lively interest in your welfare your religious welfare in par- ticular not only from my intimate relations with your father, but from your having frequently been the subject of conver- sation between me and my lamented friend, Dr. Fisk. Your father said to me, with emotion, that you fulfilled all his wishes as far as your general deportment and character were concerned, but that he had many fears with regard to your spiritual prospects. You were all veneration for the Gospel, but appeared to be without any personal feeling or concern upon the subject. He expressed a fear lest you were satisfying yourself with the correctness and amiability of your general deportment. I think it probable that your pious and affec- tionate parent often expressed these sentiments to you. Still, I felt it my duty to repeat them, now that they have acquired the character and claim of a message from the dead. May God give to this, to me, affecting incident all the effect to which, from its connection with him we loved, it is well en- titled. May he lead you speedily to a firm and blessed faith in Christ. LXXIX. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON. Saratoga Springs, August 12th, 1842. .... It was my intention to come to New York this week, but the weather continues so warm, and the water here so perceptibly does me good, that I incline to remain a little longer. My health is, I think, rather better than it was at the Conference, and I have worked uninterruptedly since till I left home. CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 67 You will have heard before this time, and I doubt not with surprise, that I have consented to go to the Wesleyan Uni- versity. My reason for attempting to do what I am obvious- ly unfit for, and what I had quite resolved not to undertake, was simply this : I thought it my duty, under all the circum- stances, to go and try. This reason will, I am sure, be good in your eyes, though many will no doubt think that I am mistaken in my course. Let what will be the result, I can never repent acting under such convictions ; and weak and poorly fitted as I am to assume high responsibilities, I must fear nothing. You know my motto " Be careful for noth- ing." I try to do all things "in simplicity and godly sin- cerity," and so doing, I may trust in God even " out of weak- ness to ordain strength." How blessed are we in being per- mitted and enabled to cast all our burdens on the Lord ! I love and admire the Gospel more and more, I may almost say daily. My experience of its sufficiency and adaptations was certainly never half so satisfactory as it has latterly been. I want to acknowledge and honor God in all my ways. LXXX. TO THE REV. WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN. Saratoga Springs, August 16th, 1842. I have often heard from you through the medium of the weekly manifesto which you address to thousands. These frequent allusions to yourself, and to a multitude of Southern interests and men, render your Advocate invaluable to me, independently of its literary and religious claims, which I am accustomed to rank very high. It is possible, however, that this cause betrays me into a measure of negligence in writ- ing to you and others, though I am rather inclined to offer as my apology the constant employment of my time in pur- suits which I do not feel quite at liberty to abandon, and to which I have thought it necessary to devote my entire atten- tion as the only probable means of arriving at any useful re- 68 LIFE AND LETTERS. suits. I may say that my whole time since November has been given to preparing my Travels for publication, though, upon an average, I have only been able to work four or five hours a day. This has been to me a great and unexpected boon. It is far better than I had ventured even to hope. It has enabled me to go over the ground which I wished to oc- cupy with a volume or two. I have yet a good deal to do by way of correction, but have got to a point at which, should I sink, you or some other friend might complete my task. I have made haste in view of probable interruptions from ill health. I was afraid to spend time to elaborate to finish. It will do me no credit as a literary performance ; but I have hoped and " prayed without ceasing" that it may prove use- ful to our young people in leading them to more knowledge of the Bible and more respect for it. I still think that a plain, true account, such as I give of the East, may do good in this way. This has been my highest I think my only aim, and I give thanks to God who has so unexpectedly sup- ported me in this labor. I expect the printers to begin as early as next month. I am now doing nothing, having ur- gent occasion for respite and rest. You will have heard that I have been re-elected to the Wesleyan University, and will, no doubt, wonder at my im- prudence in consenting to accept the office. I am quite unfit for it, and yet I thought it my duty to try. The circum- stances of the university are peculiar, and the call for me from all quarters has been singularly earnest and unanimous. Perhaps it is because I am deeply conscious of not deserving any measure of the unfortunate reputation which such a case implies that I am ready to ascribe it to Divine Providence, and do not feel at liberty to neglect it. I feel that I hazard every thing by engaging in a work for which I am so poorly fitted ; still, I am obliged to conclude that popularity and health, if they do not prove sufficient to enable me to be use- ful, are not worth taking care of ; and after trying CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 69 ing, I think I shall be content with the retirement and in- creased insignificance that must, of course, be the result. I try to desire no honor but that which God gives, and to be careless of any reputation which will not enhance my useful- ness. I was not consulted about the appointment. I felt it to be my duty to accept it, and am about to proceed to my work in the spirit of faith and humble resignation. Will you pray for me ] LXXXI. TO J. O. WALKER, ESQ. Saratoga Springs, August 19th, 1842. Among the consequences of my protracted ill health, upon which I have been compelled to look with much regret, is my inability to visit you during my stay in Vermont. In the order of Divine Providence, I have been unexpectedly called to bid adieu to my native state for the present, or, more prop- erly, to forego the gratification of returning to bid it adieu ; for, when I left home on the first instant, I fully expected to re- turn after a few weeks. It is since my arrival here that I have been reappointed to Middletown, under circumstances that seem to render it imperative upon me to accept the presidency, and try to fulfill its duties. I am still in feeble, though improved health. Every thing has been done to re- lieve me of labor. I shall have no classes, except at my op- tion, and I can have even, my peculiar duties done by anoth- er when there is need. The call was as pressing as unani- mous, and the friends of the university seemed to think its fate hung on my acceptance, so peculiar are the circumstan- ces with which past events have surrounded it. I know my manifold unfitness for the place. I shall certainly fail of sat- isfying the expectations which so unreasonably and unfortu- nately rest upon me ; but I dare not refuse to try. I design to go on to Middletown in about three days. I left my brother ill, but he is since better. He is very pleas- antly situated in Poultney, and I think there is no man in 70 LIFE AND LETTERS. the world whom he would more gladly see at his house than yourself a sentiment in which I, were I there, should most cordially join. Indeed, every member of my father's family, scattered, as it now is, far and wide, cherish toward you a feeling of respect and affection, second only to that which they exercise toward the memory of our honored father, and much akin to it. I know not of another man of whom I can say that he was my father's bosom friend and confidant from ear- ly youth to old age, and mine from boyhood to the present hour a period of thirty years. It is one of my most fervent wishes that your old age may be comfortable and happy, blessed with the love and kind attentions of your children, and cheered by the rich consolations, and supports, and hopes of the Gospel. These, after all, are the true foundation. I can truly say for myself that Christ is more and more my rejoicing. For all the changes and deep afflictions through which I have been called to pass since I last saw you, I have found His grace to be sufficient. I am always happy, though the loss of my dear, incomparable wife has made me a soli- tary man, and taken from earthly things their power to en- gage and please. LXXXII. TO MR. . Middletown, September 17th, 1842. In your letter, received two days since, you speak of some tJteoretical difficulties which hinder you in your attempts to become an experimental and spiritual Christian, and you re- quest me to direct you to some book or books which are best adapted to remove them. I am sorry to say that I know of no books upon the subject which I could recommend as like- ly to be particularly useful to you. Your difficulties are neither new nor peculiar to you. They are substantially met by every argument against a stern fatality a domineering, unalterable destiny in human affairs, and a great many good books might be referred to as exhibiting such arguments in a CORRESPONDENCE IN 1842. 71 clear and satisfactory light. Still, I can not presume that you are a fatalist and if you were, I would rather refer you to your own consciousness of the conditions under which you live and act than to books. Do you not feel and know that you are a voluntary agent ? and does not your perception of right and wrong in your own actions, motives, and affections, cany with it a conviction of moral freedom and accountabil- ity ? If not, I do not see how arguments could possibly work in your mind a conviction which it lacks the power of appre- ciating. Certainly you do possess this consciousness, and it is to this that the Gospel addresses its claims that the Holy Spirit and the preacher make their appeals. If this moral freedom and responsibility, then, is felt on your part, and is presupposed in the Gospel demands on you, it would seem to me that you have little occasion to meddle with metaphysical difficulties, or to solve dark passages of Scripture, in order to open your way to a conviction which could not, by any pos- sibility, be made clearer than it is already in the light of your own consciousness. This I take to be a fundamental principle in logic as well as religion. This interior testimony must be esteemed the very highest. You follow it as your best light on ordinary occasions you are left to it in relig- ious matters. The Bible concurs with and appeals to it, and does it no violence. Does the case of Pharaoh seem to con- flict with it ? You are at liberty to suppose that he had be- come reprobate by his sins, and was made an example of, or to explain away the difficulty as you are able ; but you should not bring an individual case of this sort into conflict with the entire scope and analogy. So of the old question, why God allowed man to fall, or why He creates men who will sin ? It may be difficult to remove all objections from this quarter, but not, I think, to perceive their inapplicability. I do not know ichy I am so made, but I do know that I am so made. I see, too, that if I were not liable to sin, I could have no probation, and form no moral character, to both of 72 LIFE AND LETTERS. which free agency is essential. The Gospel presupposes this liability. Had God permitted none to live whom He foresaw would sin, there could have been no such race as that of men; no trial no rewards no virtue nor piety, the very essence of which is free agency. I have not room to say more ; only I will add, believe in Christ, be a true Christian, and these speculative questions will soon cease to trouble you the love of God will dissipate the metaphysical fog, and bless you with clear light. I would advise you to postpone these questions as at least non-essen- tial, and seek first the kingdom of heaven. The way to Je- sus is simple and short. " Pray without ceasing." " Strive to enter in." OfTer your body and spirit to God ; in a word, believe with your heart unto righteousness. I pray that God may guide you. I pray for your speedy conversion. May you not die while you are waiting and settling preliminaries ! Dark as you may think the Gospel, Christ demands of you to embrace it without delay. Is He unreasonable a "hard master ?" DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 73 CHAPTER HI. DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. WHEN, by the lamented death of Dr. Fisk, the pres- idency of the Wesleyan University became vacant, all eyes turned very soon to Dr. Olin. Dr. Fisk died on the 22d of February, 1839. In the month of April follow- ing, the Prudential Committee of the joint Board of Trustees and Visitors resolved on the propriety of invit- ing Dr. Olin to become a candidate for the vacant pres- idency. Accordingly, they appointed a sub-commit- tee to communicate their wishes to him, who, as is stated elsewhere, was at this time traveling in Europe for the benefit of his health. The following letter suffi- ciently shows the view of the committee upon the sub- ject: " Middletown, April, 1839. " REV. AND VERY DEAR SlR, " You have probably been apprised of the mournful dispen- sation of Divine Providence, which has removed from us our much-esteemed President Fisk. He died on the 22d of Feb- ruary, in cairn assurance of immortality and eternal life. We have full confidence that he is beyond the reach of care and sorrow, and is forever at rest. The extinction of such a bright luminary leaves a cloud of visible darkness upon our religious, moral, and literary hemisphere. The Church mourns ; the community mourns ; and, most of all, the officers, members, and friends of the Wesleyan University mourn. And permit us to say, that after recovering the sad shock, and bowing D 74 LIFE AND LETTERS. submissively to the will of God, our eyes are turned to you. There is but one feeling and sentiment on this subject. The Prudential Committee has appointed the undersigned a com- mittee of correspondence, to make known their wishes to you, and solicit your affectionate regards for the Wesleyan Uni- versity, and your consent to become its future president. We are apprised of your delicate and uncertain state of health, and fear that you will shrink from taking such responsibility. But every thing will be done to lessen the burden and care that the nature of things will admit, and no part of the in- struction will be required only at your option. We have full confidence in our present Board of Instruction, and believe that they would be to you all that you could wish. " The Wesleyan University has successfully passed its struggle for existence, and acquired a degree of maturity and solidity, and has so far commended itself to the public as to secure its future permanency. It is the laudable ambition of the corporation and patrons to omit nothing within their power that may be necessary to place the Wesleyan Univers- ity at the head of the Methodist institutions in this country, and to make it worthy of the highest station in the Methodist Episcopal Church. " We make no proposition of a pecuniary nature, because we know that it will be the least difficult matter to settle, both with yourself and us. We have an elegantly finished house for the president to occupy, and every attention will be given to make his situation pleasant and agreeable. Should it be your intention to reside some time longer in Europe, or to extend your tour, we have no wish to hurry your return, if you will but permit us to use your name and identify your interest and influence with the Wesleyan University. 1 " Please to consider our circumstances, and the united wishes of the corporation, faculty, students, and community at large, and take your own time to give your answer. Should any serious doubt remain in your mind respecting your health, DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 75 or from any other cause, we desire you would not be hasty in giving a decisive answer, but correspond with us on the general interest of our institution, and we shall be happy to communicate to you any intelligence in our power, or satisfy any inquiry you may see fit to propose. "With high esteem, we are, reverend and dear sir, yours most affectionately, " LABAN CLARK, ^ _, / Committee of ELIJAH HUBBARE, > , ,, I Correspondence. VVM. J. TRENCH, ; To this communication, so urgent in its tone, and so liberal in its offers and proposals, after mature deliber- ation, Dr. Olin returned a very guarded reply. After mentioning his precarious state of health, he said that his greatest desire "was to be exclusively engaged in the work of the ministry, as he purposed to be should his health permit. But, next to this, his preference would be for a situation in which he could assist- young men in preparing for this work ; and as the Wesleyan Uni- versity was exerting an important influence that way, the connection proposed would not be averse to his feel- ings, should his health allow him satisfactorily to per- form the duties of the station, of which, however, he expressed strong doubt. We have not the letter at command, but the above is the substance of it. With this encouragement, which, in truth, was not very great, and without his formal or positive consent, the joint Board, at their next meeting, determined to place his name at the head of the Faculty as the president elect. On Dr. Olin's return to the United States in 1840, it has already been seen that his health was not such 76 LIFE AND LETTERS. as to admit of his entering on immediate duty. Yet, in the hope of its improvement, and of possessing his much-desired services, the friends of the institution would not consent to his resignation. At length, how- ever, the interests of the university began to suffer from the want of a president. The professors, sufficiently burdened with their own duties, were ill able to supply the lack of presidential service ; while Professor Smith, the senior officer, on whom chiefly devolved the duties of the vacant office, was sinking beneath his load. Learning these facts, fearing that his retention of the office was only preventing some other being elected, Dr. Olin positively resigned, and united with others in recommending the venerable and reverend Nathan Bangs, D.D., in his place. Accordingly, at a special meeting of the joint Board, called at Middletown, in February, 1841, Dr. Bangs was elected, and very soon commenced his labors, gaining the affection of the stu- dents by his general talents and his paternal deport- ment. Dr. Olin immediately felt his mind relieved of an op- pressive load of responsibility, and very soon began to regain his strength. He returned to Poultney, and, after some months, began to resume his intellectual labors. He was now busy in preparing his travels for the press. Meantime, the students in Middletown, who had friends at the Troy Conference Academy, located at Poultney, were receiving constant intelligence from them of Dr. Olin's progressive health. This created dis- satisfaction with what they now considered his hurried resignation, and the too ready acceptance of it. This feeling increased as the tidings became more and more DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 77 favorable. At length it became apparent to Dr. Bangs, who throughout behaved with the utmost magnanim- ity and Christian dignity. He believed it would be wise in him to retire from a position from which anoth- er had been prematurely released, and whose services, in all probability, might now be enjoyed. Accordingly, at a regular meeting of the joint Board of Trustees and Visitors in 1842, his resignation was presented and ac- cepted, and Dr. Olin was re-elected without dissent. The following communication from the Hon. Seth Sprague, president of the joint Board, will show the feelings with which he was elected : " Middletown, Aug. 2d, 1842. " DEAR SIR, I have the pleasure, ,by the direction of the joint Board of Trustees and Visitors, to inform you that you have this day been elected president of the Wesleyan Uni- versity ; and I beg leave to say that the greatest harmony and unanimity prevailed in the Board, and that the Faculty most heartily concur in the choice. I believe I can say with truth that the friends of the university in every quarter look to you as the only man who can restore that harmony and confidence which are necessary to the successful operations of the institution. I have no doubt every thing will be done to make your situation easy and agreeable to yourself. So anxious were the Board to secure your acceptance, that they have instructed a committee representing the Faculty and the Board to bear this communication to you. I doubt not they will give you such entire satisfaction on this subject that you will not hesitate to accept the trust. " With great respect, I am your humble servant, " SETH SPRAGUE, Juri., " President of the joint Board of Trustees and Visitors of the Wesleyan University. " S. Olin, D.D." 78 LIFE AND LETTERS. In order to fulfill the design to make Dr. Olin's situ- ation as easy as practicable, as stated in the above communication, and also in the letter of Rev. L. Clark, Professor A. W. Smith was constituted vice-president, and was thus clothed with full power to act in case of Dr. Olin's indisposition or necessary absences. Thus no inducement was omitted to secure his acceptance of the appointment, while every measure was taken to make the president elect feel easy in his position in his precarious state of health. The committee appointed to convey the message of the Board were Professor Augustus W. Smith, and the Rev. Messrs. Laban Clark and Charles Adams. They proceeded immediately to Saratoga, where Dr. Olin then was, and succeeded in obtaining his acceptance. Great was the joy diffused among the friends of the institution. Giadness beamed in every countenance among the members and friends of the institution, while congratulations poured in as a flood. There was but one sentiment upon the subject. So intense was this feeling among the students, that there was a strong disposition to celebrate his arrival in September by some public manifestation; and permission to do so would probably have been solicited of the Faculty, but for the suggestion that it might be construed into a marked disrespect for Dr. Bangs. We have been thus full in our statement, that the reader may understand the history of the case. Indeed, this is required in justice to both Dr. Bangs and Dr. Olin. But we have not thought it necessary to go more minutely into the details, as these would be quite un- interesting to the generality of readers. In regard to DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 79 Dr. Olin, however, we would remark, in addition, that if his frequent and protracted illness, and his absences from his post, were ever remarked on, they were all an- ticipated and provided for at the time of his election, and every thing practicable was done to put his mind at ease upon that subject. On no other condition would he have consented to retain his office ; and, even as it was, he repeatedly expressed his wish to resign, and once signified it to the joint Board, who, however, were unwilling to release him from his post. The period of Dr. Olin's entrance upon the presiden- cy of the Wesleyan University was a peculiarly trying one to that institution. For this there were several reasons. In 1837, Dr. Fisk returned from Europe with the prestige of foreign travel added to his former fame ; and the consequence was an unusual rush of students to the college. Many of these were not of the religious and orderly character of the earlier classes, and a tone of feeling arose quite alien to what had usually pre- vailed. Heretofore the predominant influence in the college had been religious : now it became the reverse. A good deal of irregularity was introduced, and it re- quired a strong and a steady hand to restore order. In addition to this, the finances were in a deplorable state. There was no endowment whatever. The mon- ey raised on scholarships had been unavoidably con- sumed in meeting current expenses, and thus there was tuition pledged without any corresponding income. The receipts did not meet the expenses ; consequent- ly, the officers were all in arrears in their salaries, and there were not adequate means to provide, with suffi- cient liberality, the appliances for the high course of instruction contemplated. 80 LIFE AND LETTERS. In regard to the former evil, a gratifying change was soon effected. A more stringent course of discipline was adopted than had heretofore prevailed. In many instances this stronger administration would have en- countered resistance; but such was the general re- spect I may say reverence for the new president, that all, or nearly all, readily yielded, and the few who were restless found but little sympathy with their fel- lows. The character of the administration was some- what different from that of Dr. Fisk. In both, strict- ness and kindness were blended, producing toward each administrator a union of fear and love. But while kindness and love predominated in Dr. Fisk's case, I should say strictness and fear prevailed in the other. But then it should be remembered that precisely this difference was required, and so Providence seemed to adapt each instrument to the work. While the insti- tution was young, the students few, generally of ma- ture age, and for the most part of religious principles, greater leniency in government was proper. Rigidity was not required. The students came to college to learn, and governed themselves accordingly. But now that there was a larger number, with greater mixture of age and character, the former leniency would no longer answer. True, some of the mature and self-re- liant complained somewhat of being placed under gov- ernment better suited to boys ; yet they admitted the necessity of governing strictly and impartially, and yielded a ready acquiescence. In fact, the better class of students, forming still a considerable proportion of the whole, fully sympathized with him, and gave their ex- ample and influence on the side of order and strict ad- ministration. DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 81 Thus Dr. Olin soon had the gratification of seeing his efforts crowned with success. Great improvement was soon observable. This improvement consisted in a more general appearance of order and decorum, greater attention to study, with increased regularity in keep- ing study hours, more uniformity among the officers in visiting the rooms, and greater punctuality among the students in attending the recitations and chapel exer- cises. In accomplishing these results, it ought to be re- marked that the president was well sustained by the Faculty They fully appreciated the merits of his ad- ministration, and did what they could to forward his aims. There was no undercurrent working against him no counterplot or division of interest. The sympathies of the Faculty were with him. In all his efforts at improvement they concurred, and it was by this union of effort that this higher standard of schol- arship and this elevation of moral tone were effected. Some irregularities, of course, there were, and all did not, by any means, make the desirable proficiency. Hence cases of discipline occasionally arose. Yet these were not very frequent, and in due time the Universi- ty recovered all, and perhaps more than all, its former character for strict administration, good order, and prof- itable study. Our history of Dr. Olin's connection with the "Wes- leyan University would not be complete did we say nothing of his influence in regard to the finances of the institution. On this subject he had not adequately informed himself. We remember hearing him say that, had he done so, he would have been deterred from un- D2 82 LIFE AND LETTERS. dertaking the charge. But, on discovering the almost ruinous condition of the concern, he addressed himself vigorously to the remedy, and succeeded as few men could have done. It was chiefly under his influence that some of the wealthier members of the Methodist community in the city of New York agreed to raise $10,000 in the city, provided the New York Conference would engage to raise a like sum in the rural districts, for the endowment of a professorship, to be named aft- er the senior bishop, now deceased. It was a part of the plan to induce the other Conferences patronizing the university to raise sufficient to endow two other professorships, making altogether the sum of $60,000, which, added to the tuition fees and some claims yet outstanding, would, for the present at least, make the pecuniary condition quite easy and comfortable. This arrangement was finally effected, the Eastern Confer- ences becoming responsible for one of the two profess- orships, and the Western Conferences assuming the other. The arrangement may now be considered vir- tually completed, and the university is in a better pe- cuniary condition than it has ever before known. In carrying these designs into effect, and securing the co-operation of the Church, Dr. Olin expended a vast deal of labor. One winter vacation he spent in the city of New York, in constant effort for this object. He preached once each Sabbath, and twice or thrice during the week, presenting the necessities of the Church and the claims of the institution with such force as profoundly to move many hearts and quicken them to unwonted liberality. His sermons on the Sabbath on these occasions were such, for the most DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 83 part, as he had bestowed previous labor on ; but his week-night discourses were generally studied in the morning, and, with little or no writing, delivered in the evening. Yet these comparatively unstudied efforts were full of deep and original thought, pertinent and graphic illustration, and delivered with a depth of sens- ibility that melted many a heart that never expected to respond to such appeals. Many who attended mere- ly to hear the celebrated preacher became liberal con- tributors to the enterprise. While prosecuting this business, Dr. Olin visited the several Conferences patronizing the institution. Thus, by his intercourse with the ministers privately, and his addresses before them in their assemblies, he suc- ceeded in awakening a profound interest in behalf of the cause. The addresses he delivered on these occa- sions were powerfully effective. Education is not a subject to make many men eloquent, or one by which deep sensibility can often be called forth in another. But Dr. Olin, while displaying the effects of ignorance, the necessity of education to the Church, the import- ance and duty of educating our youth, caused many a heart to melt and many an eye to moisten, while scores, under his stirring appeals, felt like the Thebans un- der the oratory of Demosthenes, when they cried out, " Lead us at once against Philip !" It is to be regretted that no complete copy of any one of these addresses exists. We have, however, a running sketch of the one delivered before the New York Conference, which may serve as a specimen of the train of thought pursued on these occasions. The reader will of course not expect to gain from it any 84 LIFE AND LETTERS. adequate idea of the entire performance, much less of the manner and effect of the delivery. " Will the Church sustain the university ? I suppose there is no question between this or any other that it is this or none. It is a question of college or no college. " Will the Church have a college take part in the edu- cation of the people of the country educate its own youth ? Then we must keep up the university : for lower teachers can not exist without higher. " It is not a question of providing for the rich. They can send their sons elsewhere and they have done so. But they can not raise up a Christian college if they would. None but the Church can create and sustain this, or any other in- stitution of the Church. It can not be isolated. " The rich will, indeed, be the chief givers, but they can only be reached through the Church. " We have already vast numbers of youth who, in the or- der of God, should have been pillars in the Church. God would form churches of all classes, rich, poor, learned, and unlearned, each helping all, and being helped by all. It is folly to act upon a plan that thwarts his designs to repel the children of the rich to drag the net full to the shore and throw back into the sea a most valuable portion of its contents. This is a sin against Providence, duty, and com- mon sense. " But our students are not one in ten sons of the rich, but of working fathers in moderate circumstances. A large part are poor, struggling to educate themselves bold, aspiring youths, pressing on against wind and tide. They mean to do good to teach or preach, or neither, as God wills. They are just such men as the Church wants and must have men who will be educated somewhere, and will exert influ- ence in the world for us and for Christ, if we will tram them against both, probably, if we will not. They are DR. OLJN AT THE WESLEY AN UNIVERSITY. 85 children of Methodist families ours by birth-right, by bap- tism, and therefore a hundred-fold more likely to become pious under our training than under that of any other. " Every part of the Church is alike interested in this work the ministry, the press, the schools. Whose religious com- fort and progress does not depend on these, and which of these great instrumentalities does not lean upon education and in- telligence ? " It is a good figure of speech, that which used to be em- ployed in the pulpit and prayer meetings of New England, likening colleges to sources that send out refreshing, fertiliz- ing streams to gladden all the Church and the land. Men think little of these streams, except they see manufacturing villages on their banks, or the play of water- works or steam- ers floating on their surface. They forget how many beasts and men slake their thirst there how many rills flow away underground to feed smaller springs how they lend to the morning all its gentle dew, and to summer its showers, that soften the furrows and make the fields green. 1 might right- ly claim for the higher institutions of learning, that their in- fluence is felt, indirectly, perhaps, yet powerfully, in all the pulpits of the land in all the books, periodicals, newspapers, and tracts that form the intellectual and moral element of all classes of our people ; that they are chief agents in all the sound and really valuable teaching in all other schools. " My conclusion is, that the Methodist Episcopal Church can not dispense with such an instrument. She must edu- cate her own youth and those of her adherents, or prove false to her trust, and lose them and generally they will be lost to others. She must stretch out her arms and embrace all the lambs of her flock. This is a great work, for God has made us a great people. We are pressed with calls, not be- cause we are poor, but because we are rich in success. We are like the man who found it necessary to pull down his barns and build greater, that he might have room to bestow 86 LIFE AND LETTERS. all the fruits that his ground brought forth so plentifully. We have more churches to build, because God fills them so fast many institutions to endow, because God gives us such a rapid development. It is a glorious destiny this of follow- ing God's workings, and co-working with him. " I say the Church must train its own youth, if it would save them if it would retain them if it would have pol- ished shafts in its quiver bold champions to meet the ene- my in the gate. It must not leave its goodly young men to fall away to the enemy, or even to join the ranks of the al- lies. We want them all for our great work. We must nur- ture and cherish them must polish them as our jewels as our bequest to the future and to Christ. " Some fear encumbering the Church with too much work. There may be danger, but not if it be the right sort of work. I think the work of education peculiarly appropriate to her sphere. We should attempt nothing that is foreign from the great end of saving souls and honoring Christ. But our col- leges and schools should live in the heart of the Church be part and parcel of it be imbued with its spirit imbosomed in its holy atmosphere. So impressed am I with this truth, that I would resign my office to-day should the Church dis- join my work from its operations, and supervision, and pat- ronage. This is my cherished sentiment. I am Christ's minister ; I must do his work. If this be not his the work of his Church then I would know my error. I may not do a strange work. When I entered the ministry twenty years ago, I declined a chair in a college to do so, on this same prin- ciple. Disabled from preaching, it was by the advice of my brethren that I became professor in a state institution, which I left to join a college under direct religious influences. It was without my consent or knowledge that I was made pres- ident of the Wesleyan University, and a member of this Con- ference. It was because I thought it a call of Providence that I entered on a work which I love greatly less than I do DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 87 the ministry. I have supposed, too, that I was where this Conference would have me. I suppose so still. If not, I will rejoice to obey its voice, and receive the humblest, hardest field of labor I may be physically able to occupy. Sir, I have an unsatisfied desire to preach Christ. I can do other work as duty, but not of choice. I have been broken in by long, deep afflictions, and have done almost nothing useful ; but I have not seen a day in twenty years in which I would not have preferred my chance in your ranks to any other situa- tion under heaven. I have had too many near views of eter- nity to think much of worldly considerations, and am under too many obligations to Christ and his Church to be at liberty to think of any opportunity to serve him in any other light than that of privilege. You will pardon these too personal remarks. It was perhaps allowable that, in my circumstan- ces, I should say something of myself. It is the first time I have spoken to this body of ministers, into which I have come as a stranger, and have been received as something more than a brother."* The reader may perceive, from the specimen given, how spontaneously Dr. Olin's thoughts took the course of the sensibilities. This gave him wonderful power over the heart. He could hardly address an audience upon any subject without exciting deep sympathy. Yet it was by no factitious appeals, nor studied art, nor superficial oratory, nor the glitter of sparkling embel- lishment. He took broad, deep, comprehensive views ; and the mighty thoughts he would evolve sunk pro- foundly into the souls of his auditors, and brought up gushes of emotion too powerful to be repressed. On one occasion, he attended, in Middletown, a Conven- tion, the object of which was to project a new rail-road, * The remainder of the address we omit. It consisted of a state- ment of the plan of endowment already given. 88 LIFE AND LET TEES. the celebrated Air Line ; and being called on by the president to make a few remarks, he arose and com- menced, and in a few minutes some of his auditors were in tears ! His theme was the moral and social influence of modern facilities of locomotion.* The same quality gave him wonderful influence over an audience in religious services. In regard to his more public performances it is not our purpose to speak. "We allude to his collegiate services. His state of health did not allow of his joining the religious meetings that were held in the college ; but we had frequent, indeed almost constant illustration of it in our daily chapel duties. He always, when able, conducted our even- ing worship ; and his prayers on those occasions were a treat. They showed wonderful variety, appropriate- ness, compass of thought, and fervency. They were never mere theological disquisitions nor cold abstrac- tions, on the one hand ; nor, on the other, boisterous, empty declamation. Eminently he prayed with the spirit and with the understanding also. His prayers had wonderful power in bringing other spirits with his own immediately before the mercy-seat. It was like one talking to the Divinity. In this, we believe, is uttered the opinion of all who were capable of forming a correct estimate of the nature of this sacred duty. "We have said he did not usually attend the religious * A few days after this, while driving out, he was accosted by a farmer driving his team, who introduced himself by a name well known in that region. He asked him if he were going to preach the next Sunday, or at what time he would preach. That he had heard him speak at the "Air Line" rail-road meeting ; and that he wished to come with his friends and neighbors, who were Univers'alists as well as himself, to hear him preach. DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 89 meetings in college. Sometimes he did, and one occa- sion of this sort deserves to he mentioned. It was dur- ing a season of unusual religious interest. Dr. Olin was confined to his chamber by one of his frequent attacks ; yet he inquired at every opportunity as to the progress of the work, and became deeply interested in several cases that were related to him. At length he determined to be present and take part in what was going forward, if only as a spectator. He attended a prayer-meeting in one of the recitation-rooms. The Faculty and their families, with a large number of students, filled the room. After two or three hymns and prayers, Dr. Olin arose, and, having alluded to his debility and unfitness for speaking, remarked that he wished to say only a few words. He then commenced an exhortation or address that lasted over an hour. It was a deeply-thought, clearly- conceived, and well-rea- soned oration, full of religious as well as intellectual power, that profoundly moved the entire company. There were few dry eyes in the room. The design of the discourse was to invite the inquirer to Christ ; to remove hinderances from his way ; to answer objections to the plan of salvation ; and show the sufficiency, will- ingness, and readiness of Christ to save. The topic was common ; but the ideas and illustrations were original, and equally convincing and powerful. Few who were present will forget that address ; and some, no doubt, will remember it through eternity.* * One of the students, who had resisted all the entreaties of his class-mates to seek the salvation of his soul, came in, as he said, to that meeting through curiosity. He went to his room saying to him- self, if the way by faith he thus simple, surely I can try. He kneeled alone in his room that night, and there was converted to God. 90 LIFE AND LETTERS. It would hardly be expected from Dr. Olin's early history, his want of interest in religion during his edu- cation, his early call to preach after his conversion, and the brief period in which preaching and teaching relig- ion was his exclusive or primary business, that he should be an extensively or profoundly read theologian. We remember hearing him say, that of religion as a science, or of systematic theology, he had not been able to read much. His theology was very much that of the heart, and, intellectually, it consisted of broad and deep principles, that, indeed, took in the whole compass of revealed truth on a purely evangelical basis ; but it, was singularly free from all merely scholastic expres- sions or cant phrases. Perhaps it was this that gave an air of good sense and liberality, a sort of non-profes- sional character, both to his preaching and his conver- sation, on religious topics. The odor of the schools a sort of bookishness, hangs about most clergymen, that serves to repel men of taste and liberal views ; just as we naturally shrink from a physician who always talks in the phrases of Hippocrates, or a lawyer forever quot- ing Blackstone and Kent. Yet the effect was not the less salutary. Nay, it was more effective, from the un- studied simplicity and naturalness of his manner both in the pulpit and out of it. In reading the earlier part of Dr. Olin's life, the read- er has seen how, from a state of skepticism, he was di- vinely led to Christ. He did not receive his religion from books, or any other mode of human instruction. Being unexpectedly and providentially brought into contact with divine things, and led almost necessarily to reflection on the subject, religion became a felt ne- DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 91 cessity of his interior nature, and it was the Spirit of Grod that led him, through his own consciousness, into a belief in the truth, and power, and excellency of the Christian faith. It was also his own personal experi- ence that led him to the doctrine of Christian holiness. For some time after his conversion, he was skeptical as to this high degree of individual piety ; so that, when he was admitted into Conference on trial as a preach- er, it was, as we heard him say, with an understood reservation on this point. But, in after years, his own sense of want, his spiritual necessities, his need of a stronger, clearer, more realizing faith in things divine, led him more closely to Christ. It was especially un- der the deep affliction he passed through in Europe, consequent on the death of the first Mrs. Olin, that he felt the want of this blessedness, and of a more perfect submission and conformity to the Divine will ; and we remember his saying that it was during his wander- ings in Egypt, and while engaged in deep meditation and mental prayer on the banks of the Nile, that he first felt that " perfect love casteth out fear." From this time the doctrine of full redemption was very pre- cious to him, and he looked with painful feelings upon any thing calculated to bring it into disrepute, or lower the standard of piety which it implies. Perhaps we may be pardoned for introducing here a little incident, showing how the evangelism of the heart served the purpose of a theological system. On one occasion, the conversation with a friend turned on the question whether, in every sermon, the minister should preach Christ distinctively, or whether he might not construct his sermons, taking the knowledge of the 92 LIFE AND LETTERS. way of salvation among his hearers for granted. Dr. Olin, after Chalmers, inclined to the latter view ; his friend, following Legh Richmond, Cecil, and others, ad- vocated the former, remarking, that he could not con- ceive how any heart that deeply felt its own interest in, and dependence on, and obligation to Christ, that realized how completely Christ is the very centre and soul of the Gospel economy, could preach a sermon on any ordinary occasion without presenting the Savior. The doctor replied that, for his part, he never con- sciously, or from forethought, constructed his sermons on this plan. His friend added, " Then you so much the more confirm my view ; for I have never heard you preach a sermon without preaching Christ ; and I have sometimes referred to you as a practical illustration of my views ; for you show that a heart that lovingly and confidingly rests on Christ, can not fail to keep Him in view in its manifestations of religious truth and enforce- ment of religious duty." He appeared much struck with the remark, and urged his point no further. We would not have it inferred, from any thing said above, that Dr. Olin was not an extensive reader. Far from it. In addition to the entire curriculum of stud- ies which he went through very thoroughly, he read largely while in college. He kept up this practice of general reading afterward. While at Athens and Ran- dolph Macon, he read all the leading authors on the several branches embraced in his department. For poetry and works of imagination he, perhaps, had not much sympathy. He preferred prose, and that of the most robust and vigorous kind. In mental and moral science he preferred Butler, Paley, Locke, and Reid, DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 93 to the more elegant Stewart, the polished Mackintosh, or the ornate and exuberant Brown. In his later days, when oppressed with protracted illness, he still kept the run of current literature, so that one was often surpris- ed at his acquaintance with authors, as vrell as at the mature views he expressed in regard to their merits. John Foster and Arnold were great favorites with him ; Isaac Taylor, also, he liked, but not so much. He liked Chalmers, but his style was not compact and terse enough to suit his taste. Carlyle he could no way tolerate. He did not believe in his theories ; much less did he like his style. I should, however, except his " Oliver Cromwell." Nor was he vastly pleased with Macaulay, though he liked his essays much better than his history, which he considered quite godless and anti-Christian. He had also read to some extent, how far I do not know, the continental writers on mental philosophy, and he adopted the sound spiritualism of the German school, without going the length of the ultra-transcendentalists. He adopted the distinction between the reason and the understanding, but preferred the Scottish modes of expression for gen- eral use, as more intelligible to the masses. Yet, after all, Dr. Olin was more a thinker than a reader. What he read was the source of new ideas to him, and so incorporated itself with his mental texture as to become part and parcel of his own mind. Thus one detected his reading, not by any references to it, much less by any resemblances or imitation, but by the enlargement, depth, and comprehensiveness of his views, and his thorough familiarity with his subjects. It was remarkable that he seldom made quotations. 94 LIFE AND LETTERS. We scarcely recall a single instance. Even in his ser- mons and prayers he seldom quoted Scripture, but gave the idea in his own language. So much was this the case, that he would not follow the common custom of using the Lord's Prayer at public service ; indeed, he seemed to have some inaptitude at remembering words. He so accustomed himself to think through his topics, that, provided he had the idea, he cared little about the mere dress in which it was arrayed. And we may here remark, in closing this paragraph, that it was quite impracticable for him to memorize his own ser- mons. On his more elaborate discourses, it is true, he wrote largely, but it was only to help him to think more satisfactorily, and see more clearly through his subjects. But he never thought of confining himself to his written language. His sketch was usually left in his study, and he preached without note or memo- randa, and often with the Bible closed before him. "We can not conclude the sketch of Dr. Olin's con- nection with the "Wesleyan University, without dwell- ing somewhat on his influence in the formation of the mental and moral character of the students. This in- fluence, however, was not exerted in the recitation- rooms, for he never conducted a class through any study. More than one attempt he made, being exceed- ingly desirous to come in contact with the minds com- mitted to his government, in that way. But the at- tempt was vain. After a very few recitations, he was obliged to give it up, and the labor devolved upon an- other officer. Yet his power was sensibly felt in an- other manner. His very presence in the building had a perceptible moral influence over the little commu- DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 95 nity. His tread within the walls was one of moral majesty. His presence at the chapel service, and the daily prayers he offered, when able to "be present, had a hallowing power. But besides this, his greatest in- fluence was exercised by his occasional, and especially by his baccalaureate sermons. Of these discourses, al- ready before the world, it is fitting that we should speak more at length. It was not until the close of the second year of his connection with the college that he ventured to preach before the graduating class. This was at the com- mencement, 1844. His text on that occasion was from Titus, ii., 16 : " Young men, likewise, exhort to be sober-minded." Without announcing a verbal crit- icism on the word sober-minded, he gave the true im- port of the Greek word oufypovtiv, and stated the topic of his discourse thus : " The young are admonished to form their plans of life with thoughtful deliberation, and to subject their conduct to such laws as the com- mon sense and experience of the human race have de- veloped and prescribed." In the elaboration of this top- ic, he delivers some lofty, generous, and noble thoughts. He shows the importance of young men beginning life aright. " Youth is confident, and inexperience is rash errors for which (rod provides an antidote in the les- sons of history and religion." He shows that "our misfortunes or miscarriages do not commonly arise from a deficiency in native talent or acquirements, or from the untowardness of circumstances. I do not hesitate to affirm, that a liberally educated young man, of or- dinary capacity, has, in this country at least, all the means necessary to insure usefulness, respectability, 96 LIFE AND LETTERS. and happiness." He points out some of the causes of the failure of young men. "We will not "be wiser for the past. History is, for the most part, lost upon us every one must learn for himself must make his own mistakes must learn wisdom from adversity caution from imprudences temperance from excesses indus- try from want or from avarice. He enforces the neces- sity of being sober-minded, discreet, of giving heed to the lessons of history and experience, of respecting the laws of their own nature. He strenuously enforces the necessity, in order to success in life, of adhering to an elevated standard of moral integrity. He says, " al- ways resolve to do right." He refers as well to thoughts and feelings as to overt acts. He eloquently carries out this idea. " The soul derives its character and its tendencies still more from its cherished thoughts and feelings than from external influences. That will be- come a great mind which is in the habit of revolving great thoughts, and the young man who seeks to make the most of himself must be select in the musings of his solitary hours no less than in his associates and books. The sentiments which find welcome during these seasons of repose, not only mark, but make the real character of the mind. He who delights to com- mune with low, impure thoughts in his chamber, is, or soon will be, thoroughly debased ; nor can all liberal studies and able teaching supply an antidote to the malignant poison that works and spreads within. He, on the contrary, who nourishes in secret an ardent love of truth, of justice, of mercy, and of purity whose heart warms at the thought of doing good, or of suffer- ing in a good cause whose indignation burns at the DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 97 suggestion of a base action, or of a selfish, dishonorable motive who would blush to plot, or perpetrate, or coun- tenance, under the hope or promise of concealment, a deed which he would be unwilling to meet before the eyes of all men and of God such a young man is treasuring up in his noble bosom the resources of a moral and intellectual power, which in some great day of crisis or duty will come forth in the forms of an over- bearing eloquence or influence, under which persecuted innocence, or the cause of truth or patriotism, will de- light to seek shelter." After discoursing at length in this liberal and elevating strain, gradually approach- ing the ultimate point at which he aimed, he says, "I have now reached the point for making that disclosure. What did I aver to be the true sources of all high elo- quence and influence ? A heart full of pure, lofty sen- timents a veneration for the pure, the merciful, the upright a tender sympathy with man and with good- ness. Something, doubtless, may be done toward the attainment of these essential principles of success by a watchful and painstaking mental culture, but religion is their only sure and proper source. One of its pre- cepts fulfilled in the heart, and the life will do more to make an educated man truly eloquent than all the dog- mas of Longinus or Cicero. ' Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,' is the fundamental principle and the deep spring of all the melting sympathies of high eloquence. The soul which religion has purified from its gross alloy of selfishness, and sensuality, and sin, is just then prepared to enter into harmonies with what- ever is ennobling to our nature."* * Dr. Olin's Works, vol. ii, p. 115, 117, 118. E 98 LIFE AND LETTERS. Such was Dr. Olin's manner of discoursing to the graduating classes. This method of approaching the subject of religion is well calculated to awaken kin- dred sympathies in the breasts of high-minded and as- piring young men, and move them to adopt lofty and noble aims in conduct. It had this effect, undoubt- edly, on many. We have seen the tears repeatedly start from the eyes of his rapt auditors, as for the last time they were thus receiving golden instruction from their venerated president. The second of his baccalaureate sermons is, in point of intellectual power, fully equal, if not superior to the first, and it was more overtly and thoroughly evangelic- al. The text is Rom., xiii., 14 "Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfill the lust thereof." " This text," he states at the outset, "is an exhortation to be evangelically and thor- oughly religious." Having thus laid down his topic, he proceeds to elaborate and enforce it, with a wisdom and vigor not often given to man. We shall not at- tempt to follow him in his train of thought. We com- mend the sermon to the perusal of our readers, assur- ing them, especially educated youth, that it will repay their labor. It is entitled " The Resources and Duties of Christian Young Men." The third of these discourses is on " The Relation of Christian Principle to mental Culture." It is founded on the text, " As he thinketh in his heart, so is he." Prov., xxiii., 7. This struck us, at the time of its de- livery, as the most original, comprehensive, and most complete of all his baccalaureates. In the elucidation of the subject contained in the text, he lays down some pregnant preliminary thoughts, each of which he very DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEY AN UNIVERSITY. 90 happily expands. " In every act of life man is as his intentions are. The human mind is as the thoughts with which it is chiefly conversant. The mind wants an ample supply of worthy ideas, to furnish it with in- teresting, productive occupation." He at length con- verges these preliminary thoughts into a comprehen- sive proposition : "A man's moral and intellectual character are ' as he thinketh in his heart' are as those deep and earnest thoughts which constitute the moving forces of the soul, and which regulate the life." He then proceeds to draw out the profoundest views of the true theory of human life, in all its best relations to time, to eternity, and to God ; clearly and devoutly, in most elevated strains, pointing the soul to Christ, as furnishing the only safe and adequate motives to men- tal culture, as well as the only ground of hope for eter- nity. He closes this sermon with the following elo- quent appeal : " I have brought you to the cross, my friends, and I leave you there. Oh ! be content to receive your illu- mination from this, the great central light of the uni- verse ! Hence, if you will cultivate the loftiest ambi- tion, and secure the best attainments, hence draw your inspiration ; hither come for power and for joy ; hither bring all your honors and successes, and consecrate them ' to Him who hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.' "Write the name of Christ upon your banner ; exalt the cross high above all idols. ' In hoc signo vinces.' Be ' Siloa's brook, that flow'd Fast by the oracles of God,' your Castalia. " To such good auspices it is my privilege once 100 LIFE AND LETTERS. more affectionately to commend you. And may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you, now and ever. Amen." The last sermon delivered to a graduating class by Dr. Olin was in August, 1849. The topic is, " Early Piety the Basis of elevated Character," from 1 John, ii., 14. This, in the opinion of some, was, in point of excellency, the greatest, as it was the last of his efforts of this kind, and I believe the last public discourse that he delivered. It involved an amazing expendi- ture of nervous, intellectual, and moral power. Some idea of the draft upon his physical system may be inferred from the fact that he was not less than two hours and forty minutes in delivering it ! One can not form an adequate idea of the effect of these discourses by any verbal representation. To ap- preciate this it would be necessary to have seen and heard for one's self. They were not uttered as coldly intellectual productions. They were not delivered memoriter, nor from notes. As in his other pulpit dis- courses, he wrote copiously, but left his notes at home, and did not pretend to confine himself to the ipsissima verba. This gave a freedom and naturalness to his manner, and an unrestrained use of the eye and play of the features. His gestures, not particularly grace- ful, nor yet ungainly or awkward, were appropriate and impressive ; for they seemed to flow spontaneous- ly from the impulses of his own heart. They were evidently not studied or thought of beforehand. His voice was not naturally musical, and yet, in preaching, it was touching and effective. Indeed, his whole ap- pearance and manner in the pulpit, his gestures, voice. DR. OLIN AT THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. 101 and countenance, tended to produce conviction of his earnestness and depth of feeling. One could not avoid perceiving that his whole heart was in the work, that his soul was filled with deepest, tenderest sensibility. Ever and anon his voice would rise above its usual pitch, his breast would swell up with emotion, his eyes fill with tears, while he would pour out his pon- derous stirring thoughts in long, rolling sentences, that held both thought and feeling in highest tension. Powerful were the impressions then produced. No one of serious mind, of manly thought, or earnestness of purpose, could avoid entering into deepest sympathy with the preacher. And invaluable was the influence which such a mind, in such a position, exercised over the youthful spirits committed to his supervision. It was in the year 1845 that the Faculty and Trust- ees of Yale College gave the following testimony to their respect for his character and attainments : "Yale College, August 27th, 1845. " REV. AND DEAR SIR, I have the happiness of stating to you that the corporation of this college, at our late public commencement, conferred on you the degree of Doctor of Laws. We present to you this expression of our regard, not with the expectation of elevating the rank which you already hold in public estimation, but as a just tribute of respect to moral and literary worth. " I am well aware that these academical titles are in dan- ger of losing their distinction by being distributed with too lavish a hand ; but this college aims to proceed on the prin- ciple of selecting those who will confer honor rather than re- ceive it, by being enrolled in the list of its favorites. " With respectful regard, your friend and servant, " JEREMIAH DAY. " Rev. President Olin, D.D., LL.D." 102 LIFE AND LETTERS. CHAPTER IV. FIRST DAYS IN MIDDLETOWN PUBLICATION OF TRAVELS IN THE EAST HIS MARRIAGE. THE course of the narrative has been somewhat an- ticipated that a full view of Dr. Olin's relations with the "Wesley an University might be presented. We now take up the thread of his personal history after his re- moval to Middletown, by quoting from the memoranda of a friend, one of the circle who extended to him a most cordial welcome to his new home. " The doctor showed his usual promptitude in coming on to Middle- town immediately, or very soon after his acceptance of the presidency. My nephew announced his unexpect- ed, but most welcome arrival, when he came down to dinner, and told us of the eager joy which had been expressed by all the students. They were once more to have a head and such a head ! How well I re- member that September day, ' so calm, so cool, so bright.' I had some dear friends staying with me, one of whom, whose mind and heart were akin to his own, he has met in heaven. She loved the Church and its institutions, and her sunken eye brightened when we spoke of our risen hopes for the University. ' Will it do for us to visit him ?' we asked, doubtfully ; ' will he be too tired to see us, or too dignified to be intruded upon at this early hour ?' How strange these doubts appeared to us in after days ! My young friend, E. B., and I went to Professor Smith's together. We were FIRST DAYS IN MIDDLE TOWN. 103 shown into the parlor, and sent our names. Oh, ho\v very often has my first glimpse of him recurred to my mind. It was the moment when he stood ' grand made and strong,' like a full-sized picture in the door of the little room at the right. All timidity vanished the moment he spoke to us ; he was our dear friend our brother. Would he come to tea the next evening ? I asked. I had an invalid friend who wished to become acquainted with him ; but she could bear no other com- pany ; and would he come early ? He did come early, and a lovely visit we had. The conversation was car- ried on principally between poor, dear Mrs. N and the doctor. Long was it since such a treat had been afforded her.* We were all struck with his manner of asking a blessing at tea it was worship, and thanks- giving, and praise, not a formal rite. This we always felt afterward ; but that was the first time, and it af- fected us deeply. That afternoon was the commence- ment of a series of delightful interviews with Dr. Olin How much we enjoyed his society how elevating to the mind and profitable to the heart I always found it ! Soon after this he drove me out, one glorious autumn day, and he spoke of his affection for the ladies of the Faculty. He said he had not seen a more united com- pany ; that he prized our efforts to make him happy ; he loved our cheerful associations and little tea-drink- ings, but, he added, ' you do not pray together ; you meet, laugh, and talk together ; but, as far as I under- * The impression Dr. Olin made upon her was so strong that, shortly before her death, which took place in New Brunswick in De- cember, she spoke of him, and blessed God that he had kindled such a light to illuminate our Church. 104 LIFE AND LETTERS. stand it, you never pray together.' His conversation was rich, varied, and discursive. He was ever ready, at the slightest suggestion, to pursue any subject, and draw from it rich treasures of wisdom. We spoke of paintings, and he said that he was able to study them when abroad ; that, on entering the Louvre, he was quite overwhelmed and confused by the multitude and beauty of these works of art, but that he commenced systematizing them, taking one picture at a time for examination, and he had thus become familiar with the French, Italian, and Flemish schools. He admired the policy of Louis Philippe in throwing open galleries and palaces to the people, and he thought it a great means of civilization. He could not but contrast the peasantry of France as, with clean faces, and in their well- washed blouses, they gazed with interest on paint- ings of merit with our citizens, wrangling over penny papers, screaming politics, and abusing their rulers.* " On the 4th of December, 1842, he preached for the first time in six years. I believe only one individual in Middletown had ever heard him before. On being asked, 'What is his preaching like ?' he replied, ' Like standing under Niagara.' Dr. Olin said the day be- fore, to a friend, that he felt his position to be rather a painful one, in having to preach with the raised expect- ations he had been told were entertained, but there was only one course for him to pursue to preach the * He returned to this country in the autumn of 1840 when the people were deeply moved with the approaching presidential election ; and, accustomed as he had been for many months to the still life of Oriental lands, the contrasted uproar and noisy whirl of this Western World strongly impressed him. FIRST SERMON IN M I DDL E T O \V N. Grospel in all simplicity. Too long had he hung be- tween life and death, too near had he been to eternity ever to pay the slightest deference to the opinions of the world. And well did he perform the vow he had made to his Grod ; for so pointed and pungent an ap- peal to the consciences of the professed Christian and the sinner I have never heard. I turn to the printed sketch of this sermon, and oh, how meagre does it ap- pear ! Toward the close, weeping and trembling with emotion, he asked, ' Do you long to work for Christ, and can you find nothing to do ? Oh ! go to the humblest Sunday-school, knock at the door, ask to be permitted to sit down by the lowliest child, and teach him the alphabet of religion tell him Christ died for the world.' Then, with tears coursing down his cheeks, he said he must thank Gfod for giving him another opportunity of declaring His Gospel, after having, in consequence of protracted illness, long resigned the hope of ever being able to do so." In a letter to his brother, dated December 6th, Dr. Olin says, " You may be interested to hear that I tried to preach last Sunday. I did not suffer seriously in the effort, at least so far as consequences have yet ap- peared. I was enabled to rise above all care but for the glory of Christ, and I think he was clearly present to confirm a very simple and direct testimony. This, after all, is the work desirable above all others. I fear I could not be here were I able to preach regularly. Yet I am very happy to do Grod's will even here ; and if, in addition to my professional duties, I may do something in the way of preaching, I shall be thankful indeed. " We have had a quiet, profitable term. The num- E 2 LIFE AND LETTERS. ber of new students received has been greater than at any former period of the same length. I hope you all pray for this institution." He spent the winter vacation in New York, in the family of his friend, Mr. Fletcher Harper, where he al- ways met with the most thoughtful kindness and the most considerate hospitality. He was engaged at this time in reading the proof-sheets of his Travels in the East, which were published in the spring. They were received with great favor, and obtained a wide circula- tion. Shortly after their publication, the Hon. H. W. Hilliard, charge d'affaires at Brussels, wrote to Dr. Olin from that city, on the 13th of July, 1843 : " Egypt and the Holy Land are both fields of undying interest to mankind, and it is no small privilege to be able to read the narrative of one who has so fully explored them, and who was so well prepared for the task, you will permit me to say, by bringing to their observation a mind enriched with learning, and guided by a pure Christian faith. I am particularly struck with the manliness with which you give your assent to the tra- ditions which preserve so many consecrated spots in Palestine, while many superficial observers make it a point to question their claims to sacred recollections. The great objects in the scenery of that land must re- main much the same as they were at the time when those events transpired, which have thrown over them a sacred and immortal interest." The following extract, from a discriminating notice in one of the periodicals of the day, indicates the dis- tinguishing excellences of the work : " We are glad to see a third edition of this valuable work TRAVELS IN THE EAST. 107 announced. We formed a high estimate of it on its first ap- pearance, and are happy to find our judgment confirmed by its extensive sale. In many respects, it is the best book for general readers that has yet appeared in regard to the countries of which it treats. This is eminently true in ref- erence to Dr. Olin's account of Egypt. He certainly occu- pied his time on the Nile to the best advantage ; and he has not only given a very clear account of the remains of antiq- uity which line the banks of that river, but has also brought an amount of information in regard to the policy of Moham- med Ali, and the present condition of the country, that can be found in no single treatise that we know of in the lan- guage. His account of Petra, too, is superior to any work that is accessible to common readers. Laborde's elaborate book has not been republished in this country. Mr. Ste- phens's graphic narration does not profess to give any accu- rate details. Dr. Robinson was very industrious during his visit to Petra, and has recorded what he saw with his usual fidelity ; but his stay was too short to allow of very exten- sive observations. Dr. Olin. remained three days without any molestation, and ha* recorded the results of his investi- gation with great jerspieuity. We have followed him, in- deed, throus^ ^ his tour with wonder at the activity and zeal with which, invalid as he was, he prosecuted his re- searches. Few men could see so much in the same time, and fewer still could describe it so well."' In January, 1843, Dr. Olin went to Lima, in West- ern New York, to deliver an address at the opening of the Grenesee "Wesleyan Seminary. This address on academic teaching, which may be found in the second volume of his works, is thus characterized by Professor Whedon : " It abounds with sound doctrines ably sus- tained. The review of the various literary bubbles 108 LIFE AND LETTERS. which have been flung up by the levity of popular hu- mor upon the surface of the popular current, moment- arily to burst and return to their own nothingness again, sounds very much like the triumph of a champion who has conquered a boastful foe with scarce the trouble of a battle." In the spring, he preached at one of the annual Conferences, with what power we may learn from the annexed testimony of one of his hearers : " Never shall I forget the impression made upon my mind and heart by one of his first sermons after his return from Europe, as he stood, a spiritual prince, before the thousands of Israel, at one of our annual Conferences, and, in his own impassioned and peculiar manner, discoursed of the deep things of God. His text was the language of our Lord : ' Let not your heart he troubled ; ye believe in God, believe also in me.' How "beautifully he developed the thought couched in these divine words the necessity of faith in Christ to allay our fears and assure our hopes . He drew a picture of a world without a Savior. He supposed its fallen and guilty population to have a\l the knowledge of God of his power and dominion of hia holiness, justice, and truth which we now have ; but no knowledge O f a Redeemer, and no intimation or hope of redemption. They saw death and the grave before them, but no Gospel had brought life and immortality to light. The vast procession of humanity, swept on by an invisible fate, went plunging into a midnight gulf. Generation after generation disappeared, and no one knew their destiny. The picture was the most vivid and terrific I ever saw executed in a pulpit ; and the feeling in the audience was rising to agony, when, stretching himself to his utmost height, and throwing himself forward over the pulpit, with his long arms reached out as if for help, and ev- ery muscle of his gigantic frame quivering with intense emo- tion, he exclaimed, 'And here we are, driven forward, an un- SERMON AND ADDRESSES. willing herd, toward that fatal limit looking for light, and there is no ray calling for help, and there is no answer !' At this moment one vast groan burst from the whole assem- bly, mingled with sobs and cries, as if all were plunging down the precipice together ! Then the preacher introduced the Redeemer dying for our sins and rising for our justification ; and showed how faith in him could assuage the fears of sin- ners, and inspire the hope of saints. Never, either before or since, was I so perfectly entranced by the eloquence of the pulpit, and the two hours that intervened between the text and the close seemed but a few short moments." His speech at the anniversary of the American Bible Society in May is published in his works, and embod- ies deep and cherished sentiments on Christian union and fellowship. He also made an address at the twenty-fourth anni- versary of the Missionary Society of the Methodist Epis- copal Church, unfolding and enforcing the great truth, that God holds the Church responsible for the evan- gelization of the world. " Did the Church," said he, "really believe the Gospel to be as necessary to the heathen as it is to us, there would be, at once and for- ever, an end to her guilty repose. They who give full credit to such truths do not sleep over them. It would be easier to find rest in our beds above the throes of an earthquake. The agonies of Laocoon and his children, dying in the coils of the serpent, were but pastime com- pared with those of the Church, until she had either unlocked herself from the grapple of this tremendous conviction, or disburdened her conscience by a faithful consecration of her energies to the work of rescuing the world from its doom." With returning health he was ready to respond to 110 LIFE AND LETTERS. the calls which reached him from various quarters. Many were the congratulations received from his friends on his restoration to usefulness, occasionally coupled with warnings against a too lavish expenditure of re- turning energies. His early friend, Bishop Andrew, who well knew his liabilities, wrote him an earnest let- ter on the subject, which is included in the correspond- ence of this year. On the 16th of May, he gave an ad- dress at the laying of the corner-stone of a Methodist Church, in Norfolk Street, New York. His theme was, that city churches are great centres of usefulness. His second topic was, that multiplying facilities for relig- ious worship and instruction in large cities is a most useful work, considered either as the means of prevent- ing evil or of doing good. He described the population of large cities " a congress of the bad, the destitute, the ignorant, the reckless of all nations, where sin was rife and rampant, temptations numerous and powerful." He showed that these masses could be regenerated only by religion; that "other safeguards and antidotes were too weak and partial in their operation." " There is need," said he, " for the coming forth and inter- ference of a great pervading principle, adapted to all ranks, and minds, and habits. That principle is religion. When God stretches out his arm, and lays his hand upon the heart of the multitude, the tumult is hushed. A common tie is dis- covered a common sympathy is awakened. Strong tenden- cies to union, and affection, and co-operation, and progress are evolved. The loose stones of the quarry come together and take the lovely forms and proportions of a temple of peace and purity of a temple of God. " Now, and not till now, the foundation of real improve- ment of permanent good is laid. Now that men begin to CHURCHES CENTRES OF USEFULNESS. Ill reverence the Bible, they may consent to reverence the laws of the land. The new associations in which religion bands them together become alliances for the promotion of knowl- edge, and charity, and humanity the centre of many sys- tems of benevolence and love the source of mutual confi- dence, and sympathy, and happiness. Civilization, and re- iinement, and true dignity of character have a basis for their operations, and a future opened before them. " The opening of a new church in a needy district of the city is a new and powerful guarantee for public order, and social and civic happiness. High aspirations and pure affec- tions will be called into play, which had else been forever dormant. Fresh agencies move away in their several spheres to do the work of mercy and of Christ. A company of gen- erous youths, who never did any good before perhaps, now that an open field lies before them, enter joyful into the rip- ening harvest. The children are gathered from the streets, and lanes, and cellars, and garrets into Sabbath-schools, where they learn their duty and destiny from the Bible, and their tender hearts learn to show forth the praises of the Redeemer in hymns and spiritual songs. Kind-hearted, gentle females are seen on angel errands in the habitations of the poor, dis- tributing tracts that may save souls, and luring to the place of learning and the house of God the neglected lambs for whom yet Jesus died. " The new church, too, makes active and useful a large class of men who were but drones and cumberers of the ground before. Now, these feel for the honor of Christ's cause, and toil and give for its prosperity. They become part and par- cel of the great movement. They care for the prosperity of Zion. They love her very stones. They devise and pray for the peace of Jerusalem. They become deeply interested in all the decencies of public worship stand on the right and left of the pastor, and hold up his hands. "A new messenger of Christ a new witness for the truth LIFE AND LETTERS. and righteousness a new advocate for virtue, honesty, and industry, and all the decencies and charities of civilized and improved life, is brought into contact with the mind and con- science of the multitude " City churches possess many very peculiar advantages for doing good and honoring the Master. They naturally and in fact constitute the centre and heart of all the churches of the land. They are in some sort the eye the sentinel of the rest. They are lights to others. They are the guardians of the general interest advisory councils, and depositories of all trusts. We all rely upon their pecuniary aid upon their quick, strong sympathy with the general interest. The pulses of the city churches beat quick. They are well band- ed used to co-operation. They confide in each other. One city Christian is commonly worth more to missions and other interests than ten country Christians. They give, and are used to it. They rejoice in opportunities of thus honoring Christ. They come to be partakers of his joy and sorrow to be part of his kingdom !"* In the correspondence of this year will be found a letter from Dr. Olin's highly respected friend, the Rev. Dr. Ignatius Few. A close friendship, formed at a pe- riod when, in each life history, doubts and darkness had given place to the calm and abiding certainty of a satisfying religious belief, and, aided by a strong con- geniality of sentiment and character, soon bound to- gether with enduring ties these kindred spirits. Most characteristic is Dr. Olin's tribute to the memory of his friend. It was written (March 27th, 1849), at the request of the Rev. Dr. Sprague, for the pages of the work which he is editing Sketches of eminent Amer- ican Ministers ; and from the copy of a letter kindly * MS. sketch. SKETCH OF DR. FEW. 113 furnished by Dr. Sprague, the following extract is ta- ken : " My acquaintance with Dr. Few commenced in 1824 or 1825, immediately after his conversion. I was then strongly impressed with his very remarkable intellectual powers and resources. He was already approaching the maturity of middle age. After the customary period devoted to collegi- ate and professional study (he was a lawyer), he seemed to have devoted himself industriously, almost exclusively, to general reading. He was at home in nearly every depart- ment of human knowledge in history, philosophy, poetry, and the sciences. In this wide range of subjects, he had been not merely a reader, but a thoughtful student. His conversation was solid and brilliant, simple and unostenta- tious, yet rich in allusions and illustrations supplied by his large acquisitions. He had great familiarity with ethical and metaphysical speculations, and I think fondness, as he certainly possessed uncommon capacity for them ; and to these, perhaps prosecuted eagerly, but without any well-set- tled principles or aims, he was indebted for his confirmed skepticism in regard to all the truths and interests of relig- ion. I at least inferred this from his ascribing the infidelity of a friend, a man of rare genius, and for many years his as- sociate and intimate, to a false theory of metaphysics. Dr. Few had just escaped from the snare of the devil, and was rejoicing in the liberty of a child of God at the time of my first introduction to him. I can never forget the strong im- pression made upon me by that interview. He seemed still to be panting with his recent struggle against the powers of darkness. His noble intellect had grappled manfully with all the dark problems of unbelief, and had triumphed over them ; arid he now looked back with trembling, tearful as- tonishment into the abyss of error and sin where he had dwelt so long and so unconsciously, and from which the grace of 114 LIFE AND LETTERS. God had granted him a deliverance so manifest. He entered at once into the genial spirit of the Gospel, and comprehend- ed, as by a new-born intuition, the breadth of its divine phi- losophy, and its wonderful adaptations to the wants of a mind like his, so long and so grievously misled and tormented by vain speculation. Doubts and fears had vanished, and he sat at the feet of Jesus all grateful and adoring, humble and teachable as a child, and yet with an air of holy triumph at having won a position so impregnable and secure. From that time Dr. Few was a most decided, unwavering Chris- tian. In all my subsequent acquaintance and correspondence with him, I never heard of a doubt or a misgiving. He was called to endure heavy trials, and his whole life was made up of suffering and sorrow, but I think he never moved away from the cross, nor failed in the faith which makes appropria- tion of its lessons and resources. The last letter which I re- ceived from him, written nearly twenty years after the peri- od of his conversion, and only a short time before his death, affords pleasing evidence that he maintained to the last that simple, child-like' piety which characterized his entrance on the Christian life, and shed so mild a lustre on his high intel- lectual attributes " Dr. Few entered the ministry very soon after his conver- sion ; but he was enabled, during twenty years of his remain- ing life, to devote a few only to this sacred calling. Through- out the whole of this period, he was manifestly the victim of incurable disease, which, while it was made the instrument of invaluable moral discipline, interfered perpetually with his public labors, imposing upon him long and repeated intervals of silence and inactivity. As a preacher, he was always able, and often eloquent. He had ever a perfect comprehension of his subject, which he discussed in a method equally logical and lucid, and in a transparent style, remarkable for grace and purity. Even in his most ordinary performances, the hearer felt himself in the presence of a powerful intellect DR. O LIN'S MARRIAGE. 115 equal to any task, and sanctified without reserve to the Sav- ior's cause. This seemed to me to be the great charm of his preaching that he was ever deeply penetrated, and abso- lutely pervaded by the solemn importance of his theme, and spoke as a man giving utterance to no doubtful speculations of his own, but to the veritable oracles of God. Hence it was that he spoke with ' authority' and a subduing unction, which all were constrained to feel an effect, no doubt, en- hanced by his commanding person, dignified mien, and grace- ful action. ... I think it detracted somewhat from the efficiency of his pulpit efforts that he carried with him to this new sphere a forensic, rather than a clerical manner, ac- quired at the bar in early life. This unprofessional air sel- dom fails of winning applause ; but it is iisually found in practice to be some slight drawback upon efficiency. " He was for some time president of Emory College, at Oxford, Georgia, and was chiefly instrumental in the estab- lishment of that now flourishing institution. Ill health, how- ever, soon compelled him to withdraw from a position of so much responsibility to a retirement which, I think, he was never able to leave for the discharge of public duties." On the 18th of October, 1843, Dr. Olin was married to Julia M. Lynch, the daughter of Judge Lynch, at GHenburn, on the Hudson River, the summer residence of the family, in the town of Rhinebeck ; " entering," to use his own words, " upon the responsibilities and cares of a relation which God, with all possible ar- rangements within the scope of his choice, has chosen as, on the whole, the best for man, the best for time and eternity for happiness and holiness." The few weeks before the winter vacation were spent with the family of Professor Smith, where Dr. Olin had, during his residence in Middletown, enjoyed all the comforts 116 LIFE AND LETTERS. of a home. In February he was to furnish and take possession of the president's house, where he had hith- erto occupied only a study. The winter vacation of eight weeks, in December and January, were spent in New York, principally in forming plans, and entering upon a series of systematic efforts in behalf of the uni- versity. Here many social demands were made upon his time, but the guests invited to meet him were cultivated, in- tellectual people, and Christian friends and brethren, with whom he passed quiet, pleasant hours. On one of these occasions he met Margaret Fuller, whose history proved to be so deep a tragedy. In conversing with him she spoke of the doctrine of eternal punishment, of which she doubted ; and she asked him if we did not proba- bly attach a greater weight of meaning to the declara- tions of Scripture on that subject than they were in- tended to convey, adding, that fear of the threatened ill might deter many from the commission of crime. He quietly answered, that he was old-fashioned enough to believe that the Bible meant what it said. Had he known, said a lady, to whom Dr. Olin had men- tioned this interview, the sore need of her spirit her longings after a satisfying portion her struggles of mind and heart he might, by revealing his clear, broad views of truth and duty, have made an era in her life ; he might have led her to the " leaning-place for her weary heart." But with his distaste for ambi- tious conversation, and with his impression that Mar- garet Fuller was a complacent, self-sufficing woman of genius, scanning holy mysteries with a philosophic and not a reverent eye, he did not enter upon themes upon A WORD IN SEASON. 117 which he never spoke but from the depths of his spirit ; and the word she may have waited for never came. He writes, on one occasion, after traveling with a lady of a very different order of intellect from Margaret Fuller, hut one who " had her opinions, and was ready to utter them:" "I have found her quite agreeable, and yet I always find something to regret after being long in such company. I have talked too much non- sense. I try to throw off care. There is not much community of topics. I would not startle and alarm by too much seriousness, but I always try to leave something that shall make right impressions. In the end, I am dissatisfied with myself, without perceiving exactly where my error lies, or how to do better next time. Oh ! for wisdom, for devotion to the highest in- terest of our associates, for an ever-present, controlling sense of eternal things !" At the opening of the college term, the Sound being frozen by the unusual and intense cold of that winter, Dr. Olin went on by land to Middletown, leaving his wife in New York till the navigation of the Sound should be practicable. The Sunday after his arrival, he preached on " Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to- day, and forever." " Let me ask you," writes Mrs. to Mrs. Olin, "what has become of that most beautiful sermon which he preached on February 4th, 1844. I have not found it in the published volumes. The text was Hebrews, xiii., 8. To me it was one of his most impressive sermons. The evening after he spent with me, and remarked, in answer to an observation of mine, ' You are right in the main ; but every thing goes on by excitement. You are unmoved by what, to a coarser 118 LIFE AND LETTERS. and less enlightened mind, would be stimulating and affecting. You are deeply stirred, however, by clear, luminous, lofty expositions of scriptural truth; your zeal is awakened you are impelled onward in the course of duty. It is the same impulse, thus imparted to you by another, that carries you onward in the same manner that the Christian of less refined mind is pro- pelled in his spiritual career.' On the 5th he took tea with us, and expressed his pleasure at getting home. That evening you arrived, and you remember our hap- py meeting in your new home." There were bright smiles and cheerful greetings from near friends that evening in the half-furnished president's house, with its prophecies of home comforts for coming years. Three days after, Dr. Olin was obliged to leave it for a month's toil in New York, to promote the interests of the university. "It is certainly an ominous begin- ning this," he writes to his wife; "but the future may treat us better. Heaven at least will, to which it be- comes us to direct our chief attention." The emotions with which he consecrated his new home found expres- sion in the following letter to his wife : " God only knows what the future has in reserve for us, and I never in my life committed its interests more unreserv- edly to His control. Yet I venture to anticipate a lot not peculiarly marked with disaster and suffering a destiny as tolerable as belongs to sinful, fallible beings in a world of probation and progress. And this will be good enough. We need toil, and trial, and disappointment, and suffering ; for we need moral training, which they are the predestined in- struments for imparting. These conditions, under which we are called to work out our salvation, I would by no means GOOD COUNSELS. 119 modify. And I want no guarantee in regard to coming ex- igences ; for the hand of God holds the issue, and He is our friend. The future is God's, as the past has been. His prov- idence, His promises, His grace, are its inheritance in all time to come. I trust I arn ready I believe you are ready to meet the allotments of Providence cheerfully and thankfully, and they are to be in our case, no doubt, various, disciplinary, dark, painful ; for such is the common lot such the genius of our religion. Making all allowance for vicissitudes, and invoking religion as the only and sufficient antidote for these seeming evils, we may yet anticipate much happiness in the career on which we have entered. Mutual love, and respect, and confidence are so many living sources of enjoyment a peaceful, pure home, where we shall see enough of the world, and yet can afford to do without it. What better arena for the culture or the manifestation of cherished virtues ? And then our daily pursuits will be useful, improving, sanctifying. We may do good not merely as we have opportunity. Our vocation our course of life, if we order it aright, must con- stitute one constant opportunity for promoting great inter- ests." Again he writes : " You seem to have your hands quite full of visiting. The good people mean to make you feel at home. I hope you will have years of enjoyment in that fine community ; especially, I trust that our relations with our colleagues may be ever kindly. Much of our happiness, and, what is more, much of our usefulness, depends upon this. I have always thought that what we chiefly lack in our intercourse is the infusion of more religion. We must pray more together, must sympathize more perfectly in good aspirations and works. We must not lose sight of our plan for social, religious meetings. I cherish this as a blessing in reserve. You must not fear them. Aft- er some use, I am sure you will both enjoy these meetings 120 LIFE AND LETTERS. and find them useful. I trust that you habituate yourself to think of your new relation to society as a minister's wife that you are more called on than others, or ever, to do good by example and by direct effort. You may find this an in- convenient responsibility, but I trust it will also be a useful one. If rightly improved, I think this relation to society en- ables a lady to be useful, perhaps above any other. I have the best hopes of you in this and all other respects. The new cares which will fall to your lot will come in the guise of du- ties, and duties you know are the means and handmaids of happiness. For myself, I delight to think of the future. I see with no blinded eye. It is clad in cares, and responsibil- ities, and toil ; yet it opens a field for action, for usefulness, for holiness, for happiness. Doubtless, God will smile on us if we continue to trust him. I think we shall serve God to- gether better than we could asunder. I dwell not chiefly on earthly pleasures. I think of our morning and evening pray- ers at the domestic altar of a loving, confiding watchful- ness over each other of being mutual intercessors in the closet of sympathies and counsels in plans and efforts to do good. Indeed, I think I shall begin from this time to lead a more holy life. I feel that I am living for you as well as for myself, and you are on my heart when I go to the throne of grace." Dr. Olin's anxious labors in New York bore with no light pressure on his returning strength. Four or five sermons every week, followed by addresses, stating the wants and claims of the university and these appeals, made in the evening, and insuring late hours and wake- ful nights heavily taxed the powers of a nervous man, who had scarcely been able to preach or attend an even- ing meeting for fifteen years. It was a remark of Bishop Janes, "that Dr. Olin's pulpit efforts helped to destroy him that he could not content himself with SERMON IN THE COLLEGE CHAPEL. 121 beginning his sermon in a didactic form, and reserving the strength of argument and exhortation to the close, but that from the beginning to the end there was an expenditure of thought and feeling that no constitution could long endure." He returned to Middletown the beginning of March, prepared to enjoy a few weeks of rest and home. " On the 8th of March," writes the wife of one of the pro- fessors to Mrs. Olin, " I have a little entry in my journal of a call upon you. The paper announced, while I was there, the appointment of Calhoun as Secretary of State. The doctor rejoiced in it, particularly because he thought the appointment would have a tendency to quell the disturbance on the Oregon question. He feared ' some whiffler would have been chosen, who, having nothing to lose, would not mind hazarding a war.' Then he laughed at you about your little or- naments on the table, &c., and feared they would in- jure the feelings of some plain brother. On the 17th of March I heard him preach in the college chapel, on a very rainy Sunday, a sermon upon grieving the Spirit, which I certainly thought was among his very finest sermons. I am sorry to see such scanty memoranda of it. There was a forcible illustration about Balaam's urging God to let him have his own way until Grod al- lowed it, which is not in the printed notes. The notes of his sermon upon Prayer, too, ' I will, therefore, that men pray every where, lifting up holy hands without wrath and doubting,' give a very inadequate idea of its great richness and power." On the 21st of March he went to Boston, to invite the co-operation of the Churches there in his enterprise. F 122 LIFE AND LETTERS. He made a noble beginning in Brorafield-street Church, where more than two thousand five hundred dollars were subscribed at that time, a sum subsequently in- creased by a member of that church to twelve thousand dollars. " On the whole," he writes, " I see nothing to discourage, though much to wear one out in this ar- duous enterprise of endowing the university. I am fairly committed to the work, providentially and actu- aljy. I must not faint if strength is given to me from above. If my health lasts, I believe the work will be done. My trust is in Grod, who has spared me, perhaps, for this special service. I am ready to toil at this most distasteful vocation if His will be so. I do not know how to be away from the institution. I offer many prayers for it. I am glad to find that I can leave home, with its manifold strong attractions, because it is my duty." On the 28th of March, he writes : " I attended last night a levee or tea-party, given by the Rev. E. Tay- lor, of the Mariners' Church, at the Tremont Temple. We were three hours in a terribly hot room, and I was not disappointed in getting only an hour's sleep. I was pretty much compelled to make some off-hand remarks, about ten o'clock, in my usual over-heated style. I am afraid they had the appearance of being claptrap, though not so intended. I have concluded that I must give myself to these improvisations when there is a call for it. It savors too much of selfishness to refuse for want of preparation. By going off extempore, I may some- times make a hit and sometimes a flat, but I shall do my duty, trying to do it in all simplicity." During his stay in Boston he found a most agreeable EFFORTS IN BOSTON. 123 home in the kind family of his friend, Colonel Brod- head, the son of the Rev. John Brodhead, a name fra- grant in the annals of New England Methodism. The evening after the levee in the Tremont Temple, he preached in the Methodist church in Russell Street. The evening was rainy, and he increased a cold which he had previously taken. The east winds of Boston were peculiarly trying to him ; and, after waiting a few days, with the hope of throwing off this attack of influenza, and regaining strength to prosecute his mission, he was obliged to return home with his work but half done. There, for a month of illness, he suffer- ed from the effects of a month of overdoing. Letters ivritten in 1843 and 1844. LXXXIII. TO THE REV. WILLIAM M. WIGHTMAN. Middletown, March 8th, 1843. But for the fact that you address me a very interesting epistle weekly, I might preface this with reminding' you that you forgot to answer the letter which I wrote you some months since. Your Advocate is to me instead of epistles from many Southern friends ; still, I would have more special communi- cations from you for many good reasons, and among them, because you tell of precisely such things as I do not get by the paper, and yet feel much interested to hear. This, besides some reasons growing out of my old recollections, long and still warm personal attachments, will perhaps make me a little out of humor if you quite dishonor the custom you used to follow of writing to me especially once or twice in the year at least. I greatly rejoice in your religious prosperity, both in Car- olina and Georgia. It is wonderful to contemplate the man- ifestations of God's goodness, especially within the bounds of 124 LIFE AND LETTERS. our vastly extended work. I rejoice, if any thing, yet more at the noble stand you have taken in the missionary cause. The only drawback upon our general and unexampled pros- perity I have felt to be the decline the decline, too, when a great advance was most needed, and most naturally ex- pected in our missionary operations. A million of mem- bers, a hundred thousand converts, a falling off in missions, and an income of less than $100,000 !* The thing is humiliating and ominous. If our adversaries would leave off railing about our Church polity, our doctrines, &c., and take us to task on the ground of great unfaithfulness to the missionary cause, I know not what we could answer. The cry of hard times is really rather a pretext than any thing else, considering the small sums in which these offerings are made. We should not hesitate to brand men as rogues who declined paying debts of no greater magnitude on the same plea. It pains me to say that I believe the chief fault to be in the ministry, who, by trying, could get such a pittance from our people for any object in which they might please to interest themselves. The obligation is too little felt per- haps it is too little understood. From all I can discover, the missionary spirit is positively declining in our Church. I feel confident that we can not proceed much further in this di- rection with impunity. Either God will stay our career of progress and success, or we shall become more bloated and unwieldy worse in spirit and in tendency by our growth in numbers. I am tied to my providential vocation, but I often feel a desire to go from town to town to toil in the cause. I know I could do less than others, and have no strength or talent for the work, but my spirit is often painfully stirred within me.f May God have mercy upon us, and not allow * The income has now nearly doubled. t Early in the year of 1848, one of the leading men in the Church . wrote to him : " The missionary secretaryship is, or ought to be, the paramount interest of the Church, and should command the PLANS FOR THE SUMMER. 125 us to slight and abuse his grace. Ours is, indeed, a glorious system of truth, and a mighty scheme of working ; but what it may become if the Spirit depart arid leave us to the^un- speakable curse of formalities and dead dogmas, I tremble to guess. LXXXIV. TO MISS CLARINDA OLIN. Middletown, March 22d, 1843. I intended to answer your letter some weeks since, but have been busy with other matters, with which, however willing, it is not always in my power to dispense. In truth, the kind of life in which I am now engaged is a very busy one, leaving me few hours that I can call my own, though I can not say that I do any thing of much importance ; and I have an habitual feeling that I am doing but little, and noth- ing with good effect. Do not infer from this strain that I am discontented. I am far from it, and only feel a strong desire to work more than I am able at present. Especially do I feel the want of strength to engage more in social meet- ings, which are just now very interesting. I do not venture to go near them, and I seldom go to church above once on Sunday, though I ventured twice the last two Sabbaths. . I am as well, upon the whole, as my most sanguine hopes have at any time flattered me to expect. You and other friends who have not seen me since last summer, would, I think, be a little surprised at my increase of flesh and grow- ing ruddiness of complexion. My plan of operations for this summer, if carried out, will call for a good deal of extra exertion. I design, God willing, to visit the New York, Troy, Providence, New England, Black strongest laborer in the Church. If the interests at Middletown can be secured properly, I think that the field would suit you better, and I know that you have the right spirit and views for the work. Rich- ard Watson made the Wesleyan missionary spirit in England. You could do it for us here." 126 LIFE AND LETTERS. River, and Oneida Conferences all, as you will infer, with a hope of promoting the interest of the university. This has become my chief care. I fear it is fast becoming an engross- ing concern with me, and could I have health and influence to promote this high interest to the extent of a sufficient en- dowment, and the establishment of a theological department, I think I could be quite satisfied. The times are as little fa- vorable as possible to such enterprises, and yet it is neither prudent nor possible to postpone the attempt. It is precisely the work that I am least fit to engage in, and yet I do not see that it is likely to be done without me. So we are car- ried along not always or often as we choose, but as the great Ruler " shapes our ends." Still, the great object of life will be perfectly attained if He shall direct us. LXXXV. TO THE REV. STEPHEN OLIN. Oxford, Georgia, April 3d, 1843. In common with the Church and your numerous personal friends, I praise God for his manifold goodness to you, in that He has heard the many prayers which have gone up from thousands of warm hearts to heaven in your behalf; that the clouds which have so long darkened your sky have been at least in part removed, and that you are so far restored to health as to return to your beloved work of publishing the un- searchable riches of Christ to your dying fellow-men. I re- joice with you, brother beloved, in this blessed change in your circumstances, and you will take it in good part if an old friend, who is not altogether a stranger to your previous hab- its, should say, Be not too prodigal of this returning strength ; be a little economical of it remember it is no very difficult matter to put you on your back, but not so easy to raise you again to your feet. But enough of that, I trust that you are permanently restored to health, and to a long and successful career of enlarged and constantly increasing usefulness to the Church and to the world. God has no doubt been teaching SALUTARY DISCIPLINE. 127 you in a school better than all others for showing us the plague of our own hearts, and bringing us to a full and unfal- tering reliance on the blood of atonement, the intercessions of our glorious High-priest, and the immutable stability of the word of God's promise to us in Christ Jesus. You have doubtless learned, during the long time that you have been in the furnace, many invaluable lessons, which would not be so thoroughly learned any where else ; and now that God seems to be restoring you to the work of the ministry, how invalu- able will be the experiences of the hours of darkness and sor- row through which God has been leading you. It is thus that God often prepares those whom he designs to call to special usefulness in his Church. God Almighty bless you, my dear brother. May God give you long life, and usefulness in- creased a thousand-fold Believe me, as ever, Yours very affectionately, JAMES 0. ANDREW. LXXXVI. TO THE REV. MR. . Middletown, April 17th, 1843. A distinguished British statesman said, "Let me make the ballads of a nation, and I care not who makes its laws." Somebody else says, people must needs come to believe what they often hear. I am left to suppose that it is in virtue of some old saw of this sort that Abolitionists are ever giving line upon line repeating the dose driving through our skulls what we won't let in through our ears. In conclusion, I rank you with heroes in further illustrating your reitera- tions by the example of the great Cato, who ended all his speeches by saying, " Carthage must be destroyed!" I al- most hear you say, " You are erudite, doctor a little pe- dantic withal." Never heed that ; I am in a good humor, though I am so unceremoniously fumbling about one of your foibles. And now, my dear friend, I say in sober earnest, may you live long and happily to see your great grandchil- 128 LIFE AND LETTERS. dren thrive in the world till the 39th (is it the 39th ?) rule is abolished till Abby Kelly has her rights till all black and colored men shall be as free as their masters till the Methodist Episcopal Church shall be as pure as the new con- cern at Lowell. Oh ! that all of this glory even now rested upon us. How cheerfully then could we go about our Mas- ter's work, with no let or clog united, loving, &c. I must not be a deceiver, a holder forth of false hopes. So I freely declare that I do not look for all this good in our day, and so I conclude to snatch a little in advance, by " leaving the dead to bury their dead," and following the Master; by loving both and all parties by trying to convert those who wear a yoke by trusting in God more than in elections by following peace with all men, &c. If I did not love you, and have great confidence in the goodness both of your head and heart, I should burn all this, and start anew. / LXXXVII. TO THE SAME. Wesleyan University, April 27th, 1843. You speak blindly of grave matters on the car- pet. I should be more alarmed than I am, but that I recol- lect you are a little addicted to direct heavy artillery against " small specks" of war. I shall be able very fully to partici- pate with you in regret and mortification at any dereliction of purity or propriety in ministers of the Gospel. How strange, that men set apart for the holiest pursuits should not be able to rise above the lowest tendencies. Selfishness management undermining detraction among embassadors of Christ : how humiliating the spectacle! how baleful the influence upon the cause in which they labor and pro- fess to have sacrificed more than self ! I can truly say that there is no evil into which I should so reluctantly fall ; and yet far better men than I have not always escaped the snare. May God, in His mercy, preserve us, my dear brother, from TOWN AND COUNTRY LIFE. 129 such a grievous fault. I hope to keep aloof from all ambi- tious aspirations, and so from the liabilities which they in- volve. Oh ! if we could be content to preach Christ, and leave self-seeking and party strife to others the dead to bury their dead what a glorious impulse would be given to the cause of piety ! what new energies would be released from low pursuits to honor the Master ! LXXXVIII. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON. Middletown, May 2d, 1843. I feel some reluctance to interrupt the quiet tenor of my life here by plunging into the bustle of New York, though I can not say that I have any very special taste or liking for seclusion. I rather prefer, and that very de- cidedly, the quicker circulation and more stirring thoughts and incidents of the crowd. Indeed, if I had firm health, I believe I should be content to dwell in the midst of excite- ments, assemblies, parties, controversies, where all sorts of things come up in review, and claim to be discussed or done. One has so many more and more powerful impulses the re- sources of thought, of feeling, and purpose are so greatly mul- tiplied, that a man of the right stamp lives to more effect, is really wiser and greater every way, in the city than in the country. But this rapid whirl of the machinery of life soon wears me out, and I slink away to my hiding-place with my gear out of repair. . . . In a month or two, one gets not only rested, but wearied with the means used to secure rest. Every day is just like the rest. We get up, eat, sleep, go from the dwelling to the study to the chapel, &c., by the sound of the bell. It is fortunate for me that the small num- ber of faces which I am destined to meet with so often are all kind and intelligent faces. They belong to dear friends, who love to contribute to my happiness in all practicable ways, who are interested in my reputation and success, and who, I quite believe, sincerely like rne, as I most certainly do F2 130 LIFE AND LETTERS. them. Upon the whole, my situation is a very desirable one. I like it chiefly because I think it providential. I could hardly wish that the institution were in a better condi- tion as to good order and attention to study, or that the Fac- ulty were more harmonious and obliging. LXXXIX. TO THE REV. STEPHEN OLIN. Clarkesville, Habersham county, Georgia, June, 1843. I am very anxious to hear from you directly once more before I leave a tenement for which my lease seems nearly to have expired. It would afford me a pleas- ure, which few other things which can now occur would, to have one more conversation with you personally, and, next to that, to receive a letter from you. Not for the reason which might induce many others to seek for an epistolary intercourse with you not to obtain any reflection of that light of distinction which the world is shedding on you, nor even to participate of that intellectual wealth which experi- ence and enlarged opportunities have enabled you to accu- mulate since we last met. Sincerely as I rejoice in them on your behalf, to me they can scarcely in any other way be beneficial ; but I would seek that communion of spirit, that frank interchange of thought and expression of feeling which characterized our religious intercourse, and made it both profitable and pleasant to me. May I say that it was the most unreserved I ever enjoyed with any man, except a few poor and ignorant, but deeply pious people, whom I have known ? Some persons would wonder at the exception, but I will not dishonor your religious philosophy by giving any explanation. If I could find a man who was trying to love God with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength, I would rather sit at his feet to receive instruction than in the acad- emy where Plato lectured, or even in the church where Wes- ley preached not because I doubt whether the last was of that number. Nor do I doubt that many who are accessi- CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP. 131 ble to me may be, but you will acknowledge that the religious sympathies which would establish our communion with such an one must rest upon something more than mere speculative reasoning or outward conformities ; in other words, upon con- viction, which depends something upon feeling as well as ra- tional evidence. Now I do not seek for what I suppose to be very rare among the professed disciples of Christ, but for such an intimacy of intercourse and such a mutual confidence as would make available to me the spiritual treasures of a soul simplified and exalted in its religious affections by the unity and excellence of its object. I ought now, surely, to think that I have nothing further to do with the inferior objects of life. If the kind chastise- ments of my heavenly Father had not heretofore produced that conviction, my last attack would leave me without pre- text for hesitancy. Six months since I threw up five quarts, or ten pounds, of pure arterial blood from my lungs in four days, and, during the same period, lost an equal quantity from the arm. It was wonderful that I lived one hour. It is a miracle of mercy that I still live ; but without another mira- cle, I can not survive much longer. My debility is now such that I can not walk twenty feet quickly without being ex- hausted and out of breath. Still, I walk and ride a little ev- ery day ; but the effect of extensive adhesions or dropsy will probably finish the work before long. I am among the mountains here, enjoying a scenery which, for magnificence and variety of light and shade, for a blend- ing of softness and grace in color and outline, with stern, cold, and severe majesty, could scarcely be surpassed ; in a cli- mate unrivaled, so far as I know, from scientific observation or personal information, for equability of temperature and a sanative constitution of the atmosphere, enjoying the hospi- tality and brotherly care of one of the few friends of my boy- hood which death and the vicissitudes of life have left to me 132 LIFE AND LETTERS. Robert C , of Augusta, whom you may remember to have seen with me at the Madison Springs in 1826. He is a native of Ireland, who came to this country when he was fifteen years of age. We became acquainted in 1802, when I was twelve years old, and an unbroken friendship has sub- sisted from that time between us. He is, and ever has been, a noble, magnanimous-tempered man, ready (as he has prov- en, in a measure) to stand up for the oppressed, like Athana- sius for truth " against the world." He raised about the only voice heard in behalf of the wronged Cherokees, and memo- rialized our Legislature on that subject. His hand has been open to pour out the treasures which the Lord has endowed him with, to relieve any who were distressed, and promote every good institution or laudable object, not by hundreds, but, as I know, by thousands, and yet he would " blush to find it fame." For many years after my own conversion, I knew he was an earnest seeker of religion, which I believed for the last few years that he had found. He did not connect himself with any church until within the last twelvemonth, when he became a Presbyterian ; his wife, one of the excel- lent of the earth, is a pious Episcopalian. So here we three are living together Presbyterian, Episcopalian, and Meth- odist somewhat, I hope, as we shall live together in heaven, where, as the Gluaker said, there are neither Gluakers, Meth- odists, nor Presbyterians, but only Christians. Is not this, in some measure, apropos to the subject given you recently be- fore the Bible Society ? He came for me some distance in his carriage, and brought my niece and myself to his house, to watch over and nurse me. Ought I not to be thankful ? and have I not some apology for occupying so much of my letter with an account of him ? I hope you will write to me soon. Direct your letter to Athens, Georgia, as all my letters will be forwarded thence to my transient resting-places. If I live to receive a letter from you, and am able to answer it, CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP. 133 you will find me a more punctual correspondent than I for- merly was.* Affectionately your friend and brother in Christ, IGNATIUS A. FEW. * A little more than two years after the receipt of this letter, Dr. Olin was much affected at the intelligence of the death of this hon- ored friend, accompanied as it was with assurances of undiminished affection, uttered in those last fading hours of earth. "About two weeks before his death," writes the Rev. William J. Parks, "when he thought he was dying, he said, ' I should like to feel some of those bright and heavenly manifestations now, in this my dy- ing hour, which many of God's people have experienced, but thy will be done, O God. If I am to die with what I now feel, a firm and stead- fast faith rather than such displays of thy grace, so let it be. I sub- mit. I am resigned ; for, God, even this, to such a redeemed sinner as I am, is mercy beyond expression.' .... He then made a pause, became much engaged in prayer for several minutes, and pres- ently, with joyful countenance and uplifted hands, exclaimed, ' Glory, glory ! it is mine unexpectedly, and unworthy as I am.' He then spoke to some friends who were present in terms lofty and soul-stirring, after which he exclaimed, ' my God ! if I had to preach again, rather than stand and argue with sinners in the pulpit as I have done, I would get oh my knees and weep over them, and beg them to come to Christ.' From that hour of ecstasy until his death he was favored with no more such bright and glorious manifestations ; but at all times, when asked, professed to have an unshaken faith in God, which, as he several times assured me, had not faltered for one moment. " He desired to die in calm thought, with no noise about him. God granted his innocent desire. He was reclining in a large arm-chair all was calm, serene thought, silent prayer, no noise ; death was doing its work on a great and good man. His eyes closed, he breathed softly and yet more softly, until all ceased. I said, ' He is gone !' Some weeping was heard, he breathed again, and made a slight motion. I said, ' Restrain your feelings, if you can, and let him die as he wish- ed.' He breathed softly twice or thrice more, and all was over. His countenance was only marred by the paleness of death, but no mus- cle distorted. So died this great man, at half past seven o'clock, No- vember 21st, 1845." 134 LIFE AND LETTERS. XC. TO . September 10th, 1843. Last Sunday I preached to the Genesee Conference a body of nearly two hundred ministers. It was a season of the presence of God, and will long be remembered by many who were present. I was enabled to say plain things, and the hearts of the people were open. I love such seasons. They are eras in my past life on which I look back and thank God. In nothing do I so exult as in this work of the min- istry this holding up Christ as the one object of faith, and love, and admiration. I have often thought that I would willingly spend six days of every week in a cell on a sick- bed, if on the seventh I might be allowed to preach Christ crucified. It is not merely a duty, and so grateful to the conscience in the discharge of it ; it is always a joyful sea- son a feast to my own feelings. And yet I am not likely to do much of this work. I overdo, and can not avoid it. Providence, moreover, calls me to other duties less pleasant ; but it may be, in the long run, not less useful. To-day I have heard preach an excellent sermon on prayer. I thought, at the close of it, as I always think when I hear him, that he is the best preacher I know. I always feel how superior he is to me, though I am quite able to rejoice in it, and am glad to sit at his feet. I believe that hearing a good sermon fatigues me even more than preaching. I am too excitable. My feelings enter too deep- ly into religious exercises to allow me to continue them long. This is true both of public and private duties. I seldom go more than once to church, and then am good for nothing the rest of the day. I must read, or talk, or write to restrain my thoughts and divert them into less sensitive channels. It is, I trust, a blameless expedient that I adopt this afternoon I must have diversion from trains of thought that overmaster me. EXPECT GREAT THINGS. 135 We do not expect much, and therefore receive little. The ennobling peculiarity of religion is chiefly seen in the agency of faith. It becomes about what we have the courage to ex- pect : " Be it unto thee according to thy faith," teaches a great general truth. Unbelief dishonors God, and He is not likely to do the best things for those who entertain debasing views of his grace who do not quite rely upon his promises. " To him that believes," on the contrary, all things are possible ; and the largest expectations that depend on Christ for their satisfaction, are far more likely to be realized than the small- est. By looking for little we fairly deprive ourselves of the benefits of religion. In the Gospel economy, he who expects most honors the Savior most. The more unworthy the peti- tioner, and the greater the gift he asks, the higher praise does he ascribe to Christ. A great but penitent sinner, coming boldly to the throne of grace, and asking "the best gifts" through the merits of Christ, is the highest achieve- ment of Christianity. Angels rejoice over it. No doubt the Savior exults at such a spectacle. " Expect great things," is the true motto when God's compassion in Christ is the fountain of supply. To expect little is to insure little or noth- ing at all. So it is in experimental piety. They who fix the standard of hope low seldom rise above it. They sow in unbelief, and often reap in disappointment. God loves a confiding soul that can trust his mercy without stint or fear, expecting all things through Christ Jesus. What a glorious economy is this ! How adapted to the wants of poor sinners, who without God can do nothing, but " through Christ can do all things !"* * This letter was written to a young friend, who was enabled, by the clear and simple views of faith presented by Dr. Olin, to obtain the assurance of forgiveness of sin through faith in Christ Jesus. 136 LIFE AND LETTERS. XCI. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LANDON. Middletown, September 13th, 1843. I reached home last Thursday night after an absence of five weeks. I have so far been overwhelmed with business ac- cumulated in my absence. Matters will soon grow easier, and I think myself bound to devote my earliest leisure to you. You know that I gave the first days of my vacation to an old, dear friend, whom I never see without pleasure, whose long- tried friendship is one of the resources on which I rely for the future, as his warm-hearted kindness has been a rich resource in the past. May God bless him and his with all blessings, spiritual and temporal. I went, as you know, to the Oneida Conference, Wilkes- barre, Pennsylvania a laborious journey, but a most inter- esting region to visit. The Conference gave us an agent, and will, I hope, render some valuable aid to the university. I returned by way of New York, stopping only two nights at Jersey City, and called on our old, esteemed, and excellent friends at Rhinebeck. I preached twice there, and stayed twelve days, the rain and other causes detaining me longer than I had expected. I saw a number of your acquaintances Mrs. Livingston, Mr. F. Garrettson, and others. From Rhinebeck I made a forced march to the Genesee Confer- ence, at Yates, thirty miles this side of Niagara, and got home by another last Thursday. That Conference proposes to do what it can in aid of the university. It is an interest- ing Conference, youthful, ardent a little mercurial, strong in resources and talent. I hope they will prove to have bal- last for all weathers. We are doing as well as usual here. New students are coming in, of whom we have already re- ceived more than thirty. I heard from my brother on his arrival home about Sep- tember 1st. He was as well as he was when he began his journey southward, and less fatigued than he feared. I feel, TO THE SON OF HIS FRIEND. 137 perhaps, too much anxiety about him. My family attach- ments are centered on him very much, and his death would inflict a blow on me heavier than I could well bear. Yet God will do right. No one is better prepared for heaven. There, it is a comfort to think, we shall meet dear friends to part no more. XCII. TO JOHN M. FLOURNOY, ESQ. (On his marriage). Middletown, September 25th, 1843. I am truly glad to learn that you are about to be married. It will certainly promote your happiness, unless, indeed, you shall have been unfortunate beyond what is probable in se- lecting from the better classes of Georgia ladies a class no- where surpassed for high qualities, and for the heart and grace with which they generally adorn and bless the conju- gal relation. May God shed His richest blessings upon you, and upon her, the partner of your weal ! You and I have become, I trust, fast friends, having never seen each other. May I not obtain through you some pretensions to be a fam- ily friend, and to become the friend of your wife ? I hope you will see to that as well as you can. You will naturally visit the North next summer, if no sooner, and I now invite you to make my house your home while in this part of the world. I should be highly gratified to have with me my friend, and the son of a most beloved and honored friend. To make you remember this invitation, I couple it with this piece of intelligence I, too, expect to be married in Octo- ber, to Miss Julia Lynch, daughter of Judge Lynch, of New York. I think her well qualified to make me happy in this most interesting relation. Will you allow me to remind you how much and how spe- cially you will need God's blessing upon your household how fit the occasion for giving yourself and the woman of your choice away to Christ. God forbid that you should for 138 LIFE AND LETTERS. a day postpone such, a consecration. Rear up, my dear friend, a family altar for the morning and evening sacrifice ; and may He who hears and answers prayer "build you a sure house." XCIII. TO THE REV. DR. M'CLINTOCK. Middletown, September 26th, 1843. . . . . I am a little selfish, I fear, in this matter. I want to secure friends younger than myself, partly because, when my head becomes whiter, I may assert an old man's prerogatives ; partly and chiefly, because young men are less worldly, more frank and fearless, and, as a class, they are more intelligent and of larger views. I wish to keep in com- munication with the warmest hearts and the most enlight- ened minds. It postpones the coming of the chills of selfish- ness and caution, and superannuation. What is yet more material, I have a keen relish for intercourse and correspond- ence with those I esteem and love. It is good for the heart and good for the head. One has more thoughts, and better, in this way. So much for preliminaries. I was delighted with your frank criticism on my first vol- ume. It is precisely the sort of liberty I would have you use in regard to me. Many compliments would not have grati- fied me half so much. I will return the esteemed favor by philosophizing a little in the same spirit. I think better of the comparative merits of that volume I should think a good deal better than you do. It exhibits the result of a great deal of industry in collecting scattered information, and is, so far as I know, quite the best economic account of Egypt to be had in the language. I think this is the reason why you feel less interest in the book. I remember thinking that you concerned yourself less about such things than most men of your cast of mind. I doubt not this is well, upon the whole, but if this remark is correct, it gives a reason for your criticism not wholly incompatible with my escape. I am waiting with some solicitude for Dr. Robinson's article in TRUST IN CHRIST. 139 the North American, though I do not really anticipate any thing to complain of. I am glad you think well of my argu- ment on the sepulchre. XCIV. TO THE REV. MR. LANDON. September 27th, 1843. . I feel an unwonted confidence in this, as in all matters for some time past, that He does guide me. I mean to devote myself entirely to Christ I feel new obligations and incentives. Indeed, the signal spiritual blessings of the last year or two call for more entire conse- cration. I seem to myself never to have got fairly into the way of religion until lately. I never saw the full excellency of Christ and the system the -length, and depth, and height of its genius and aims. I constantly distrust myself, and fear to speak out what I feel and hope. Yet it is not I, but my Savior, whose honor is concerned. I must not withhold the honor due to his grace, though I take shame and confusion of face to myself. I fear bringing reproach upon the cause by a way of life so little marked by many of the sobrieties and graces of the Gospel, yet I am bound to testify of the good- ness manifested in making me willing to consecrate all to Christ. I feel greatly changed, as it seems to me, in two things. I am enabled to commit the future to God, as I nev- er could before, throwing off in many things all anxious con- cern. Then, in regard to sickness and other afflictions, I now see and feel them, as essential parts of God's plan, as I never did before. I would not be secured from them if I could. I may want them. Upon the whole, I never had such re- ligious feelings and views before. I think I love Christ and the Gospel decidedly more than I used to 140 LIFE AND LETTERS. XCV. TO THE REV. DR. . Middletown, November 2d, 1843. Your letter of October 22d, so full of demands on my re- spect, gratitude, and affection, came in due time, and I do not presume that you regard my delay as long. Yet I feel reproached for any delay. I could not tell you if I tried how much I congratulate myself upon having formed your ac- quaintance, and having become, I feel, in no common sense your friend. This interest will, if it please God, and you are minded favorably, have a future to it, and I shall often enjoy the happiness and benefit of interchanging sentiments and counsels with an intelligent, warm-hearted, Christian man in whom I fully confide. How much this stands for in one's account of earthly good few men know better than I do, both from having enjoyed and having lost a few such. May God make this correspondence, and the, I trust, mutual sentiments of regard, of love, in which it originated, a lasting arid great blessing to us both a blessing for the soul, no less than for the taste, the affections, and the intellect. With my congratulations on the well-merited commendations bestowed by all upon your last article in the Review, I pass to the topic with which your kindness induced you to fill so large a part of your letter, the critique on my Travels in the North American. I expected something of the kind you know, and though the whole is utterly false and groundless, I should not have been greatly moved by it but that I was ill, in bed, and in a most excitable state of the nervous system. Dr. Robinson, to whom I addressed a note, denies all responsibility for the article, though he repeats, in very respectful language, some of its complaints that I have paid so little regard to some of his claims to originality. I have explained in another letter, not yet answered, and so the matter now stands. I was in Boston and tried to see the editor, but he was absent. I have since written to him, ask- CONGRATULATIONS. 141 ing a place for a calm defense in the North American. I am waiting for his reply, which I rather expect, and quite hope will be favorable Mr. said that the cri- tique led him to suspect personal motives, and that it estab- lished nothing else. Thus you see I am at a stand for the present. Should Dr. Robinson be satisfied, our correspond- ence published may be sufficient, as I wish only to clear my- self, and not to touch him. If not, which I more expect if he shall be out upon me in his forthcoming Bibliotheca Sacra, which I think probable, then I must choose my ground with an eye to all the circumstances. I must probably wait to receive a work from London, which is needful to my defense. I can not think that I have any thing to fear, as I have all the truth on my side. Yet I recoil from a controversy. I can not trust myself in such work if I can keep out of it. I must be gentle and forbearing, or my religious feelings will suffer. My book must have endless coincidences with Dr. Robinson's. Yet I can demonstrate, with regard to the chief counts, that I am guiltless. I shall roundly deny it of all, without trying to prove a negative XCVI. TO JOHN M. FLOURNOY, ESQ. Middletown, Nov. 14th, 1843. . . . . Allow me to congratulate you on your marriage with one who, I doubt not, is well fitted to increase your hap- piness. May God shed upon your union his choicest bless- ings. May you both consecrate yourselves to the service and interests of piety, and richly enjoy its supports and guidance. I thank you for the kind and even affectionate language you are pleased to use concerning me. I esteem myself fortunate in having the friendship of my friend's son. I doubt not you will do honor to the name and memory of a man for whom your respect can hardly surpass mine. I hope that the ter- mination of our business intercourse will not estrange us. I have always been highly gratified with the spirit in which 142 LIFE AND LETTERS. you have conducted our affairs. It is not common, I fear, for such transactions to lay the foundation of lasting respect and friendship between interested parties as, I trust, it has in the present case. I shall not cease to feel a lively interest in your welfare, growing out of my veneration and gratitude to- ward your excellent father, and hardly less out of the feelings which have sprung up during our correspondence. I expect to keep house after January. My wife is with me at Professor Smith's, where we are, of course, very well accommodated. I shall still hope to see you and Mrs. Flour- noy at no distant period here, I trust perhaps also in Geor- gia for I assure you I would make a detour to have that pleasure XCVII. TO THE REV. DR. . New York, Dec. 14th, 1843. I received your letter full of good things a few days before leaving home. Much business prevented my giving an im- mediate answer. I came to the city on Friday last, and found some social duties to do, of a character not to be postponed. If a man gets married, he must take all the consequences, and his friends, too, may have their claims to attention a little jostled out of place. This is the first letter I have writ- ten since my arrival here. The North American Review will contain a brief explanation from me. Brief as it is, it will probably prove sufficient until more is said on the other side. I can not hope to escape a controversy that shall bring out every thing, and think I have no reason to fear such an one, though I dread and shun strife. The ground I take is this : I deny wholly unfriendliness or plagiarism in regard to Dr. Robin- son, to whom I do ample justice on proper occasions. In de- scribing the same objects, obtaining information also from the same books, traditions, and resident informants, perpetual co- incidences are things of course, if both tell the truth. Dr. BRIEF EXPLANATION. 143 Robinson, was in Jerusalem in '38 ; I in '40. He published in '41 ; I in '43 having never seen his work till February, '42, and being perfectly ignorant of its contents from my ill health. My travels were mostly written out for the press at that time. I never heard of his discoveries in the East, nor till I saw his book. Of the charge about Sinai, I say that all my argument was written there in the convent. Lord Lindsay, whom Robinson had read, gives the substance of his argument, which I am accused of copying. Lord Lind- say, Laborde, and Carne all refer to the plan of the encamp- ment. All were known to Dr. Robinson, though he as good as claims the discoveiy of the plain. Of the ancient arch, I reaffirm my statements, and say that Catherwood declares my account correct. As to saying, I did not know that this had been mentioned by any writer, this is dated April, 1840, and was true then. I knew noth- ing of Dr. Robinson's views till 1842, and never heard till then of his discovery, &c. As to Bethsaida, I know not Dr. Robinson's opinion even noiv. I give none, but only state several of other men. As to the subterranean conduit con- necting the fountains, I confess my error in referring memori- ter to Pococke ; but I quote Richardson, who gave me the idea, as he probably did to Dr. Robinson, who, at least, teach- es no more than he. So of the tower of David, my information was wholly independent of Dr. Robinson's, though coincident. He got it from the same sources, probably, that I did. I never dreamed, till the reviewer told me, that he pretended to any originality in these topics, except in the matter of the bridge, which I knew to be a mistake, at best. You have here my explanation in brief. I hope it will please you. I am to be here seven weeks. We hope to keep house in going to Middletown again. I am full of business of all sorts clerical professional social domestic. I wish to hear often from you about all things and thoughts. 144 LIFE AND LETTERS. XCVIII. TO TIIE REV. . New York, Jan. 17th, 1844. I received yours of the 12th instant yesterday. I lose no time in answering it ; and if I could hope to write what will afford you a small measure of the satisfaction which the lan- guage of your epistle, and yet more, the spirit that pervades it, gave me, I shall much exceed my expectations. Only one thing gave me some anxiety what you say about hard work, and your health and spirits. It so happened that I had just returned from dining in company with a common friend, who knows more of your hahits than I do. We had a conversation on the subject. I felt afraid for you, from what I heard, and, on entering my room at home, your letter con- firmed my apprehensions. Doubtless you work too much are very imprudent, and must hold in. It is the poorest pol- icy you can possibly adopt, that of habitually overtasking yourself. It may do for a while, but must produce a bad re- action. Then will come vain regrets and self-accusings, and yet you may accuse yourself of imprudence, suicide, &c., with- out producing any sensible alleviation of nervous symptoms, lean speak oracles on this subject. Parsfui, I beg you to hear me this once, and follow my counsel. Instead of work- ing as much as you can and live, have some reasonable, mod- erate limit, beyond which you will never allow yourself to go. This is the only thing that can save you. You have no right to do wrong in this respect. I am very sorry to hear that you are not happy. You ought to be, I am sure ; and I trust and pray that you may be very speedily. A great deal may be done by meeting these exigencies as questions of duty. Send out your faith in quest of alleviations. The future, upon which you should draw freely, has sunbeams enough to gild the sky of the present, despite of clouds and storms. Religion can do every thing for us. The more burdens we impose upon it, the better it JOURNAL LETTER. 145 will serve us. I rejoice that your wife is well, or nearly so. That was the chief evil. The misfortunes which you can not relieve you ought not to grieve over. They are proba- bly veiled mercies for somebody. I have been disabled much of the time since I came to the city by a most inveterate influenza a type of cold of which I have had no experience until now. Add to this, I have been at dinners and parties full three or four times in the week ever since my marriage. I am worn out with late hours and company, and yet, as these attentions come in the shape of compliments, as tokens of welcome to new circles and new relations, we can not well decline them. They are now nearly over, and a little repose will put all right. Meantime, I have preached five times in little more than a fortnight. I am a little harassed by the wants of the uni- versity, and the partial attempts made to relieve it. All will come round in due time, I think ; but I have no heart for affairs. I would rejoice to be set free from all work but that of preaching ; Deo volente always, and giving meet strength I feel deeply in regard to the missionary interest. I am little capable of devising plans, and wish I were more capa- ble ; but this is not my talent, I fear. Yet, if possible, I will do my duty in the premises. I shall be very glad to ex- change views with you on this great topic. XCIX. TO MRS. OLIN. February 4th, 1844. I arrived home on the afternoon of Friday. The journey across the country I found rather cold and comfortless, yet, after breaking down twice, we reached New Haven in safety at 11 P.M. Such a line of transportation as that which the closing of the Sound has given rise to has not often been seen in this country. It consists of all the old hacks and ill- conditioned horses wont to carry passengers from the towns II. G 146 LIFE AND LETTERS. along the shore to the boats. They are wheeled round to a right angle with their former routes, and form an almost un- broken line of the most abominable vehicles and animals that I remember to have seen intrusted with the limbs and lives of human beings. New Haven and Bridgeport look fantas- tically enough. You see "Howard Hotel," "Astor House," on the carriages that fill the streets The house was warm and ready for you. James has distributed the furniture as his tastes and talents could, through the rooms, around and centrally. I want to see you preside over the affairs of this semi-furnished house. It seems even more lonely from the scattered tokens of civilization, only that they give symptoms of better times. I suppose there is no pros- pect of your coming for some days. This keen, still weather is making thick ice momentarily. I must, if possible, be in New York again next Friday, to prosecute my mission. . . I heard brother Griswold preach a good sermon this morn- ing, and, seeing that he was hoarse, I offered to preach in the afternoon, which I have just done, from " Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever." I had much com- fort, though I was too much excited. I trust that GJ-od will make the things I was enabled to say profitable to the peo- ple. A glorious privilege this, of preaching Christ ! How happy could I do nothing else ! Y 7 et be it as God wills. I have a very lively sense of the fullness of Christ. How strange it is that I am not more devoted ! C. TO THE SAME. New York, Friday, February 16th, 1844. . I went to Williamsburgh on Tuesday. Preach- ed a funeral sermon to a crowded church in the morning, and preached again at night, after which we got a subscription of $470. I am to go to Willett Street to-night. Sunday afternoon I am to preaph in Second Street, and to attend to the subscription. I do not propose to do this on Sunday, but JOURNAL LETTER. 147 when it is proposed to me I can not object, for I think it holy work. I need to think so of it, to sustain me in it. I hope it will do me good to do such work. It has the advantage of imposing self-denial, which is always useful. Upon the whole, this indispensable effort to endow the university is likely to require time, toil, patience, faith, and sacrifices. Could I have foreseen all, I should hardly have taken office. Yet I do not regret that I did. I should much pre- fer to preach, but I have no right to choose. If I may be useful, that is all I ask. I think it a vital interest, and, trusting in God, I mean to toil on so long as there is any good prospect. I expect to succeed, because I think Provi- dence will favor so good a work. I can form no conjecture about the time of my return. You must be patient, and so encourage me. ... I doubt not that your parlors look tempting and bright. Truly, I could wish to look in upon them some night before long. I should be soothed by other notes than those of the piano. CI. TO THE SAME. New York, Monday, Feb. 19th, 1844. I preached last Friday night at Willett Street, and got a subscription of $548. This was well for that congregation. It will probably be increased to $600 or more. Yesterday afternoon I preached to Dr. Bangs' congregation a searching sermon on secret faults. The subscription exceeded a little $250. For this week, I have appointments for Tuesday, "Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights, at Eighteenth Street, Norfolk Street, Bedford Street, and Sullivan Street Churches I try not to expect too much, and am glad to feel myself not too bitterly disappointed by small results. I suppose the object in view is likely to be accom- plished, so far as I can see. I could wish that I liked this begging a little more, or, rather, had less disrelish repug- nance for it. Yet I have a clear conscience. I try to man- 148 LIFE AND LETTERS. age the business religiously. I preach Christ honestly, as if I had no favors to ask, and then, after stating my case fairly, I just ask them to do their duty. I can not use the fashion- able arts of practiced platform speakers. My taste and con- science are both against it. I do not see the end of this business yet. I have full work for at least two weeks more, and an appointment is already out for next Sunday week in Allen Street Church. ... I do this as a duty. I bear it as a cross. CII. TO MRS. OLIN. New York, Feb. 27th, 1844. I rejoice to know that you are contented and happy. So, I trust, you will continue to be, even when in- creasing cares and serious duties shall press on you with an accumulated burden. These, met in a Christian spirit, are not necessarily incompatible with the highest degree of hap- piness of which our present condition is susceptible. They make life thoughtful and serious, but not melancholy. They are sustaining. They give existence an importance and a value it can not have when left too free from care and occu- pation. I speak from much experience on this subject. I have had but too much of this sort of leisure. I am now trying a life of toil and responsibility. Indeed, I was never so burdened before. Yet I prefer to have my hands full of work, though I might not exactly choose to have the sort that falls to my lot. I will not repine at this, even. I am glad to beg, if that come in the way of my duty, as, indeed, it seems to, though certainly I might shrink from this as a vocation. " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" This must be my motto. It has been, I trust, for twenty years, though really I have done nothing valuable, or hardly any thing. Yet I have borne my cross. I have stood in my lot, and I hope, in the great day, to have extended to me the welcome of my Lord, " Well done, good and faithful servant," REVIEW OF THE PAST. 149 not, certainly, through my own faithfulness or merit, but through the infinite merits of Jesus Christ. To His name I give now, in my inmost heart, all praise for what hope I have, and what religion has done for my support and happiness heretofore. I am deeply conscious of manifold wants and deficiencies, arid I most earnestly desire to seek and wait in faith for brighter, fuller manifestations. My meeting in John Street succeeded better than I had anticipated. I preached to a good audience on the Widow's Mite ! The subscriptions amounted to a little more than $1700 making, with the amounts previously subscribed by two members of this church, $2500. The people were sur- prised at their own liberality, and apparently no less delight- ed. To-night I am to be at Greene Street Church. To- morrow I am to preach in Vestry Street, where $1500 are already subscribed, and I fear no great additions are to be expected. CIII. TO THE SAME. New York, Friday, March 1st, 1844. Your letter of Tuesday made me very glad on Wednesday, though I confess it breathed rather a melancholy tone and spirit. We love sympathy. This, you know, has passed into a proverb, and yet sad tones do not cheer the sad. It so hap- pened that I had rather less of cheerful spirits than usual the day I received your letter. I had hoped to find a restor- ative in it. There was really in it nothing to produce or to increase sadness, and yet the want of the buoyant spirit which you commonly manifest produced an uncomfortable frame of mind, from which, I regret to say, the progress of two days has not quite relieved me. I have really nothing to com- plain of. I am very well, with the exception of the lassitude which a good deal of overdoing has brought on, and which a little repose will no doubt entirely cure. I ought to be very grateful and much encouraged. I have worked recently, 1 150 LIFE AND LETTERS. think, without serious, or more than transient injury, as I have not been able to work before in twenty years, certainly as I had no expectation of doing again in this world. This is the more a matter of gratitude from new and most interesting ties that bind me to the world. I have for many years re- garded life not only as uncertain, but not very desirable. My thoughts have been much on the transition which I seemed destined soon to make from this to another state of being. Under the pressure of pain and care I found solace in looking to the swift-coming future. Never, I trust, was I disposed to repine or complain of my lot. I have, indeed, esteemed my- self, upon the whole, a fortunate man. I have enjoyed life. I have loved my friends, and have been loved and cherished by them to an extent that has quite surprised me, and for which I could see no good reason but in their great kindness and in God's over-ruling mercy. I have been, in many re- spects, what the world calls a fortunate man ; and the many pains and changes I "have felt have not soured me toward the world. Yet I have experienced a measure of weariness, and have oftener thought of heaven as a place of repose than as one of enjoyment. It still looks most desirable to me in that view, and I yet look away from responsibilities and cares, which often fill me with anxiety, to the land where neither the world nor the heart can molest any more where rest and holiness will be a delightful portion. Yet I have experienced a change of feeling in these re- spects. I trust I do not love heaven and its hopes less. I have, however, dearer objects than before on earth, which give new and stronger attractions to the present. I can now do some little service, thank God, and I could gladly work on a century, if in my generation I might promote the cause and glory of Christ. If I could, indeed, feel assured that my labors were effective to that end if I could see that they made the Church better, more useful, more holy, how gladly would I toil ! I often feel, however, that I am not fit for my A NEW HOME. 151 place. I lack many qualities and qualifications most desir- able, if not indispensable, in such an office. I want learning ; I want a higher piety ; I want wisdom, patience, love, zeal. I often fear I shall do no good ; and yet I seem to be doing all I can. Oh, if God will guide and uphold me if I may have a deeper baptism into the spirit of Christ, I may yet possibly do some good I may, at least, be saved from doing harm. Pray for me, my dear friend. Do not neglect to pray for me mightily. I intended to say that, besides the religious con- siderations to which I have referred my endearing relation to you the home which you will gild and bless the do- mestic satisfactions, of which I doubt not you will minister a goodly supply my desire to do you good and help you in your I'eligion, that I may comfort, guide, and protect you, are in- spiring considerations, which throw light upon future years, and support me under the pressure of urgent wants and cares. I was at Vestry Street last night ; they had already sub- scribed $1500. They made this amount $2000 last evening, which is about what I had hoped for. I preached in Greene Street the evening before, and I am to preach in Allen Street Church next Sunday. I hope to come home Monday or Tuesday. CIV. TO JOHN M. FLOURNOY, ESQ. Middletown, March 6th, 1844. I returned last night from New York, where I have spent the last three weeks on a tour of duty for the university. I have obtained subscriptions toward its endowment to the amount of $11,500. You will infer the great improvement in my health when I inform you that I preached fourteen times in three weeks. I have not attempted such a labor before in nearly twenty years, nor, I think, been so well able to bear it in fifteen years. I have overdone a little, and, though not sick, feel the want of a little repose. I am pre- pared to enjoy it at my own home. This is language that I 152 LIFE AND LETTERS. could not have used, until this moment, since 1837. I am not sure that my trunk has been unpacked during that en- tire period, in which I have sojourned in hotels, lodgings, tents, &c. I have just now entered on housekeeping in the president's house, which I have just furnished. I feel some peculiar emotions on entering again on such a course of life, and I look for as much satisfaction as ought to be expected from domestic life. I am very happily married, having noth- ing to desire in that respect. It will give me the greatest pleasure to see you in my house when, if ever, Providence shall direct your steps to this northern region. You will please to remember that if you ever visit the North, say Philadelphia or New York, I shall expect you to come and see me, and I shall certainly feel very happy to see my friend, and the son of my friend, in my own home. Mrs. F is of course con- sidered as resting under the same injunction. CV. TO THE REV. LE ROY M. LEE. Middletown, March 8th, 1844. REV. AND DEAR BROTHER, I have returned within the last three days from a three weeks' absence, and did not, un- til this morning, find an hour to devote to the reading of your sermon on the ministry. Presuming that I am indebted to you for the copy sent me by mail,* I have determined to lose * Dr. Lee writes, in answer to this letter, " You were not mistak- en in supposing I sent you the copy of the sermon preached before our Conference. In doing so, I designed to express my grateful re- membrance of the brief period I was once permitted to spend in your company, and of the pleasure you had afforded me by allowing me to sit down in the quiet of my study, and yet journey with you through a country rich in sacred associations, or, as I have pictured it to my imagination, to lie down with you upon sands once overshadowed by the pillar of cloud, or where the Lord Jehovah had kindled his watch- fires, and stood sentinel over the slumbering multitudes of Israel. It was with feelings like these, rather than from any expectation of im- parting a pleasure to you, much less to elicit a letter expressive of your approbation of my work, that I forwarded it." SERMON ON THE MINISTRY. 153 no time in tendering you my thanks for this agreeable proof that you recollect rne, and for the valuable and timely serv- ice you have done to the religious public by the publication of this discourse. I am habitually and conscientiously spar- ing in bestowing praise. I am always glad of all opportu- nities to give to my friends proofs of my affection and confi- dence ; but in the matter of expressing favorable opinions of their performances or abilities, some who know me best, and are in the habit of speaking to me most confidentially, so oft- en complain of a fastidious reserve. I have my reasons for this chariness. There are so many mouths ready to utter laudatory paeans when they are deserved, and when they are not, that I think I may well indulge in my humor, which suits my taste, my habits, and my principles. You, I am sure, would not demand, though I hope you will tolerate, this apology for the expression of my sentiments upon your sermon. You are familiar enough with compliments, and I am not ignorant that the pamphlet in question has called forth many of much more value than mine. Yet none are more sincere than I am in characterizing your discourse as excellent for the subject and the occasion as well written and well reasoned, and as decidedly good, both in its temper and theology. I have read it with satisfaction as a Method- ist and a Christian, and as a friend and a scholar. I hope it will be extensively circulated. It will not fail to do good to all who read. It will suit the latitude of Virginia and North Carolina admirably, no doubt, and it will suit any oth- er latitude just as well ; for the ridiculous pretensions which it combats so successfully are unfortunately rife every where. This absurdity is just now endowed with ubiquity. I do not hope, of course, that you will make proselytes. There is nothing so invulnerable as egregious folly. Just make it ex- cessive, and you have made it invincible. It is fairly taken out of the region of common sense and argument. It is even likely that a certain class of minds will make it a matter of G-2 154 LIFE AND LETTERS. faith. Yet, if you make no proselytes, you may prevent apos- tasies. Some persons are addicted to will- worship, and are always on the eve of adopting the silliest and most incredible dogma that may happen to be at hand. It may suit such to have the monstrosity of the one just now in fashion so clearly depicted. The thing wanted is not precisely to show the in- credibility of the dogma. That, with many, is an incentive to faith. Let them perceive the mischievous character of the error, and its incompatibility with some other facts and prin- ciples which they can not afford to renounce, and you admit them to the best possible chance of return to a sound mind, and, at least, of avoiding one blunder. I shall be glad to hear that your sermon has had as wide a circulation as it de- serves. The book agents in New York ought to give it the benefit of their facilities, so that it may reach all parts of the country. Allow me to thank you for the Advocate, which reaches me with great regularity, and keeps me advised of the state of things in a region of which I have very many endear- ing recollections. I never by any chance hear from a Vir- ginia preacher. I never, except most accidentally, hear from my old associates in the college. Yet the years spent in Virginia are of precious memory. My intercourse with my brethren was ever delightful the memory of it is very re- freshing. Do you ever see brother Early ? Smith ? Crowder ? If so, do remember me to them. Allow me to assure you of my unimpaired respect and affection toward you. Your unworthy brother in Christ, S. OLIN. THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844. 155 CHAPTER V. THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844. To the results of the deliberations of this Conference many in the Church were looking forward with anx- ious interest. Grave matters, involving great inter- ests, would, in all probability, claim serious thought and decided action. The vexed question of slavery, com- plicated as it is by political and ecclesiastical relations, would, In some shape or other, demand the attention of the delegates. The coming events cast their shadows darkly before ; but men found the difficulties they had anticipated presented in a new and hopeless form when it was revealed to the Conference that the appeal case of Francis A. Harding, suspended by the Baltimore Con- ference in consequence of his refusal to manumit slaves, of which he had become the owner by marriage, was but an introduction to the more involved subject, with its far-reaching consequences, which was for weeks to weigh upon the heart and the mind of the Conference. This Conference was an eventful one to Dr. Olin. He had come as a stranger among his Northern breth- ren, and they had warmly received him, and showed their confidence in him by electing him as one of their representatives in the great deliberative assembly of the Church. He was detained at home by illness for the first ten days of the session, and he was consequently absent while the case of Francis A. Harding was un- der discussion. The day after his arrival in New York, 156 LIFE AND LETTERS. the vote was taken, on the motion of Mr. Early, to re- verse the decision of the Baltimore Conference, and Dr. Olin was excused from voting, on the ground "that his credentials were only presented the day before, that he had not heard the journals read, and had only heard a portion of the debates. ' Sometimes,' he said, ' it was a pleasant thing to avoid responsibility, but in this case he had no disposition to shrink from re- sponsibility, and would much rather have voted, but could not do it conscientiously.' " The motion was lost. On Tuesday, May 14th, Dr. Capers presented the fol- lowing resolution, which was received with a gush of Christian feeling : " In view of the distracting agitation which has so long prevailed on the subject of slavery and abolition, and especially the difficulties under which we labor in the present General Conference on account of the rel- ative position of our brethren North and South on this perplexing question ; therefore, " Resolved, That a committee of three from the North and three from the South be appointed to confer with the bishops, and report within two days as to the pos- sibility of adopting some plan for the permanent paci- fication of the Church." " Dr. Olin spoke to the motion under the most powerful emotion, and in a strain of tenderness that moved every mem- ber of the Conference. He said he felt, from his relation to the Conference, as a member for the first time, it became him to explain why his name was attached to the resolution. It had been shown to him within five minutes, and he had asked upon it the advice of one whose opinion was entitled THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844. 157 to great weight. He could not refuse to second it, believing it was offered in a spirit of conciliation. He had feared for these two or three days that, though possibly they might es- cape the disasters that threatened them, it was not probable. He had seen the cloud gathering, so dark that it seemed to him there was no hope left for them, unless God should give them hope. It might be from his relation to both extremi- ties that, inferior as might be his means of forming conclu- sions on other topics, he had some advantages on this. And from an intimate acquaintance with the feelings of his breth- ren in the work, he saw little ground of encouragement to hope. ' It appears to me,' he continued, ' that we stand com- mitted on this question by our principles and views of policy, and neither of us dare move a step from our position. Let us keep away from the controversy until brethren from oppo- site sides have come together. I confess I turn away from it with sorrow, and a deep feeling of apprehension that the difficulties that are upon us now threaten to be unmanage- able. I feel it in my heart, and never felt on any subject as I do on this. I may take it for granted that we speak as op- ponents here. I have had no part in this controversy. It has pleased God that I should be far away, or laid upon a bed of sickness. I have my opinions and attachments, but I am committed by no act of mine to either side ; and I will take it on me to say freely, that I do not see how Northern men can yield their ground, or Southern men give up theirs. I do, indeed, believe that if our affairs remain in their pres- ent position, and this General Conference do not speak out clearly and distinctly on the subject, however unpalatable it may be, they could not go home under this distracting ques- tion without a certainty of breaking up their Conferences. I have been to eight or ten of the Northern Conferences, and spoken freely with men of every class, and firmly believe that, with the fewest exceptions, they are influenced by the most ardent and the strongest desire to maintain the discipline of 158 LIFE AND LETTERS. our Church. Will the Southern men believe me in this, when I say I am sincere, and well informed on the subject ? The men who stand here as abolitionists are as ardently attached to Methodist episcopacy as you all. I believe it in my heart. Your Northern brethren, who seem to you to be arrayed in a hostile attitude, have suffered a great deal before they have taken their position ; and they come up here distressed beyond measure, and disposed, if they believed they could, without destruction and ruin to the Church, to make concession. It may be that both parties will consent to come together and talk over the matter fairly, and unbosom ourselves, and speak all that is in our hearts, and, as lovers of Christ, keep out passion and prejudice, and, with much prayer, call down the Holy Spirit upon our deliberations, and, feeling the dire ne- cessity that oppresses both parties, they will at least endeavor to adopt some plan of pacification, that if they go away it may not be without hope of meeting again as brethren. I look to this measure with desire rather than with hope. With regard to our Southern brethren and I hold that on this question, at least, I may speak with some confidence that if they concede what the Northern brethren wish if they concede that holding slaves is incompatible with holding their ministry they may as well go to the Rocky Mountains as to their own sunny plains. The people would not bear it. They feel shut up to their principles on this point. They love the cause, and would serve God in their work. I be- lieve there is not a man among them that would not make every sacrifice, and even die, if thereby they could heal this division. If their difficulties are unmanageable, let their spirit be right. If we must part, let us meet and pour out our tears together ; and let us not give up until we have tried. I came into this Conference yesterday morning to offer another resolution. It was that we should suspend now that the Sabbath had intervened, and shed its calmness and quiet over our agitated spirits that we should suspend our THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844, 159 duties for one day, and devote it to fasting and prayer, that God might help us if he would, that if we have not union we might have peace. This resolution partakes of the same spirit. I can not speak on this subject without deep emotion. If we push our principles so far as to break up the connection, this may be the last time we shall meet. I fear it ! I fear it ! I see no way of escape. If we find any, it will be in mutual moderation, in calling for help from the God of our fathers, and in looking upon each other as they were wont to do. These are the general objects I had in view in second- ing the resolution, as they are of him who moved it.' " The reverend gentleman sat down amid the most deep and hallowed excitement, and the responsive prayers of the whole Conference." This resolution, with the substitution of the words " a committee of six" for the words " a committee of three from the South and three from the North," was unanimously adopted, and Drs. Capers, Olin, and Wi- nans, and Messrs. Early, Hamline, and Crandall were appointed the committee on the question of pacification. " Two days," said Dr. Capers, " were allotted to the conference with the bishops, and the first of these was set apart for fasting, and the business of the General Conference was suspended for a prayer-meeting, to in- voke the blessing of Grod and his guidance in the mat- ter. Well, the committee met with the bishops, and they reported that, after a calm and deliberate inves- tigation of the subject intrusted to them, they could not agree on any measure promising peace. But, after all, who can tell but that the issue to which we have been brought involves the very and only plan of per- manent pacification possible in our circumstances. We looked and labored another way perhaps every other 160 LIFE AND LETTERS. way meaning to secure peace without even the pain of friendly separation. But no expedient could be found, and if we had supposed we could have found one, and agreed to adopt it, still our agreement might not have been followed by the pacification of the Church at large." It was an hour long to be remembered that mid- day hour of prayer in the General Conference, and all present felt its subduing power, as fervent supplications were poured forth alternately by the Northern and Southern brethren. They had looked " for light, and there was no ray ; they had called for help, and there was no answer ;" and, in utter despair of all human aid and counsel, they were now prostrated before their heavenly Helper. " Was there ever such a parting among brethren, so full of Christian love and sympa- thy ?" said a lady in the gallery, with streaming eyes, as she listened to the petitions gushing from the great deep of the heart, as she beheld the manifestations of deep feeling, not to be repressed, by those who, bowed as they were together, acknowledging one Lord, one "faith, one baptism, yet had the underlying conviction that henceforth they were to dwell together no more as brethren. Perhaps no one there felt this more keen- ly than Dr. Olin, whose frame thrilled with emotion, as he knelt near the altar in the midst of the dear friends, to whom he was so closely united by many ties of Christian love. On Tuesday, May 21st, the Committee on Episco- pacy, who had been instructed to inquire whether any one of the superintendents had become connected with slavery, having ascertained that Bishop Andrew was THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1844. 161 thus connected, asked leave to offer a written commu- nication from him as his statement and explanation of the matter. This report was laid on the table, to be taken up on Wednesday as the special order of the day, when Mr. Griffith, of the Baltimore Conference, pre- sented the following resolution and preamble : " Whereas the Rev. James O. Andrew, one of the bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, has become a slavehold- er ; and whereas it has been, from the origin of said Church, a settled policy, and the invariable usage, to elect no person to the office of bishop who was embarrassed with this ' great evil,' as under such circumstances it would be impossible for him to exercise the functions and perform the duties as- signed to a general superintendent with acceptance in that large portion of his charge in which slavery does not exist ; and whereas Bishop Andrew was himself nominated by our brethren of the slaveholding states, and elected by the Gen- eral Conference of 1832, as a candidate who, though living in the midst of a slaveholding population, was nevertheless free from all personal connection with slavery ; and whereas this is, of all periods in our history as a Church, the one least favorable to such an innovation upon the practice and usage of Methodism as confiding a part of our itinerant general su- perintendency to a slaveholder ; therefore, " Resolved, That the Rev. James 0. Andrew be and is hereby affectionately requested to resign his office as one of the bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church. " ALFRED GRIFFITH, " JOHN DAVIS." In the debate upon a motion that the restriction which allowed but fifteen minutes to each speaker should be taken off during the discussion of this ques- tion, 162 LIFE AND LETTERS. " Dr. Olin said the special issue before us was a matter of more importance than whether it consumed one or two days in the debate, and he should deplore it as a great evil, and a measure likely to act unfavorably on the great interests in- volved, to cut short the debates. He was aware that they were straitened for time ; but the subject before them was one that demanded discussion. They were bound to go on the supposition that on this question no one was pledged or decided. They sat there to deliberate and decide on what might be said to be one of the most momentous questions that ever agitated the Church ; and he wanted to hear a full and dispassionate exhibition of the views of brethren on this subject, given as in the sight of God, and with a deep sense of responsibility to the Church. He hoped that the restric- tion would be taken off, for it was misplaced and ill-timed in a case like the one before them. Some had said that they did not want to hear much from the men of the North ; but he would not like to give his vote without an opportunity of explaining the motives under which he gave it. There was a. future pending upon this discussion, and he wanted to speak out freely and fully. Let them be patient, and not in haste over this grave deliberation. He hoped they would take time to listen to each other, and take time, also, to think and pray over the subject. It would be quite time enough to come back to the fearful issue of this matter if they debated it three days or three weeks." After much debate on this resolution, Mr. Finley, from Ohio, on Thursday, May 23d, offered the follow- ing substitute for it : " "Whereas the Discipline of our Church forbids the doing any thing calculated to destroy our itinerant gen- eral superintendency ; and whereas Bishop Andrew has become connected with slavery by marriage and other- wise, and this act having drawn after it circumstances SPEECH AT THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 163 which, in the estimation of the General Conference, will greatly embarrass the exercise of his office as an itinerant general superintendent, if not in some places entirely prevent it; therefore, " Resolved, That it is the sense of the General Con- ference that he desist from the exercise of this office so long as this impediment remains." " Dr. Olin rose to speak on Mr. Finley's substitute. He referred to the state of his health, which always disqualified him for long sittings in Conference, and which, under the add- ed pressure of an afternoon session, admonished him that he might be unable to be present throughout the entire discus- sion that he might even be kept away at the final vote, a circumstance which he should much regret. ' This,' said Dr. Olin, ' is my only apology for seeking so early an opportunity for the expression of my sentiments on the general question, to which I will now proceed, if I may have the indulgence of the Conference. May I be allowed first to offer another re- mark, which I could wish had not, like the last, exclusive ref- erence to myself? My relation to this subject is somewhat peculiar and most painful. It is, on account of my personal attachments and cherished friendships, a delicate subject, which, if it were compatible with my duty, and I could feel at liberty to do so, I would gladly leave to other hands and heads. Yet the very delicacy and difficulty of my position render it the more imperative upon me to give an explicit expression of my views the more so, because I know I am regarded by many as hemmed in by circumstances so unto- ward, that I am likely to be trammeled, if not controlled, in spite of myself. Now I will not affirm that I shall be ex- empt from these misleading influences, yet will I promise thus much it shall be my aim to act as an honest man, with a single eye to the glory of God. My delicacies are not all on one side. They press upon me with equal force on all sides, LIFE AND LETTERS. and so leave me as free as others, it may be, to obey the dic- tates of duty. " ' I give to the substitute offered by the venerable brother from Ohio a decided preference over the original resolution. I feel strong objections to that resolution, and no less to the preamble. I am not prepared to say that the discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church contains, or is meant to contain, any provision against the election of a slave-holding bishop, nor do I believe that any such inference is fairly deducible from it. I must hesitate, therefore, to avow such a doctrine. I may not affirm directly, or by any implication, that the dis- cipline is averse to the election of a slaveholder to that of- fice. Now it seems to me that this is conveyed when it is said that such an election, or that the holding of slaves by a bishop, is contrary to the " settled policy and usage" of the Church. Since the organization of the Federal government on its present basis, the office of president has been occupied during thirty-five years by citizens of Virginia, and forty-three by slaveholders, while that high honor has been enjoyed only twelve years by Northern statesmen. Would it be a proper use of language to say that, in the " settled policy and usage" of our country, the office of president should be for the most part confined to Southern men ? " Usage" carries, to some extent at least, the idea of common law and acknowledged right or privilege. In this sense it is obviously applica- ble to the case in hand. We have hitherto had no slave- holder for bishop, not that we have a law against it, but be- cause the non-slaveholding candidates have always received a majority of the votes. The majority will always be able to judge of what the interests or sentiments of the whole Church from time to time may demand, and such a declara- tion as that in the preamble is uncalled for, as well as not strictly true. The facts alleged as the ground of the resolu- tion, if true, are at least disputable, as we have the best pos- sible proof in the discussions and explanations to which we SPEECH AT THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 165 have just listened. They are not matters of record, or his- tory, or general notoriety, and they are not adapted to be the basis of our solemn decision in a case of such grave im- portance. " ' I do not like the issue to which this resolution seeks to lead us. I do not wish, by any act or vote of mine, to say or insinuate that Bishop Andrew is not a most desirable man for the episcopacy. Undoubtedly, under the pressure of our difficulties, had he voluntarily come forward and done what the Conference by that resolution asks him to do, it might have been the best way to relieve us from the embarrassment. At least, some may think so. But I doubt the propriety of asking him to do, under the constraining influence of our vote, what, if done at all, ought to be done voluntarily ; for it might thus be understood that, even if he were free from this em- barrassment, we still should not prefer to have him for a bishop. " ' I look upon this question, after all, not as a legal, but as a great practical question ; and my views are quite disem- barrassed from constitutional scruples or difficulties. We came to this General Conference from the North, South, East, and West, with the best dispositions in all parties to harmon- ize as well as we might, and to make the least of our differ- ences. There were few symptoms of discontent or disaffec- tion, and it was generally thought that we should now make a satisfactory settlement of our difficulties, and go home more harmonious than ever in feeling or action. I had good reason, for coming to this conclusion. I knew, or thought I knew, the feelings of my brethren in the North and East, and I had enjoyed a pretty free correspondence and inter- course with brethren of the South ; and I am sure we all came up to this Conference with the best purposes and the best hopes. I was ill, and did not reach the Conference at the commencement, and it was not until I had taken my seat on the floor and heard of the difficulties which surrounded 166 LIFE AND LETTERS. us, that my mind was robbed of these hopes. I \vas stunned and overwhelmed at the tidings, and in ten minutes made up my mind that our embarrassments were stupendous, if not insuperable. I have since made diligent inquiries from breth- ren as to the actual condition and sentiments of the Northern Churches, and what would be the results there if things re- main as they are. I have, for the most part, refrained from going to the men who have taken part in the controversies that have agitated us hitherto, because I thought their testi- mony, in a case of this sort, might not, perhaps, be so much relied upon ; but I have addressed my inquiries to men whom I know to be opponents of the abolition movement, and they concur in believing that this is precisely the state of things in which they most fear to return home to their flocks ; and they declare with one consent that the difficulty is unman- ageable and overwhelming. I hope it will turn out in the end that their fears outrun the reality. But I confess I know not where to look for testimony in this matter but to the ac- credited, and venerable, and discreet representatives of the various Conferences ; and I repeat that, forming my conclu- sion on this ground, our most prudent men do regard our present condition as pregnant with danger, and as threaten- ing manifold disasters and disafFections throughout the Meth- odist Episcopal Church ; and, after making what allowance we can for any local or partial view, I am still compelled to regard the evil as a great and portentous one. It addresses itself to us as the only tribunal having the legitimate author- ity to act in the premises. " 'The calamity has come without warning. The intelli- gence has fallen down upon us like a thunder-bolt from a se- rene sky ; but we must grapple with the difficulties. It is for this General Conference alone to dispose of them in some way. It must be remembered, however, that this Conference is limited in its action by constitutional restrictions, which it may not transcend for the removal of the most ruinous evil. SPEECH AT THE GENERAI, CONFERENCE. 167 I can conceive of questions coining up here, so beset with le- gal and constitutional embarrassments, that this General Conference could only sweep over them, and give such coun- sel as it might judge proper. If there ever was a question beset with great practical difficulties, surely it is that under which we now groan ; it is so hedged about and filled with evils, which this Conference can not hope to prevent or cure. Yet our powers are so great as to allow us to make some pro- vision against them, and, to some extent at least, meet the wants of the Church in this great emergency. ".' We may do much, and we may make many arrangements in regard to the episcopacy ; but our powers are still limited and restricted in two things. We can not do away with the episcopacy ; we can not infringe upon its character as a gen- eral superintendency. Within these limits it seems to me that we have large powers plenary powers for carrying out, through the episcopacy, the general purposes of the Confer- ence and the Church. We may almost do what we will, avoiding to come in conflict with the general rules and the rights of individuals. Unquestionably, the Conference can not touch the ministerial rights of any one of its members or officers. I believe we are all prepared to recognize the right of Southern brethren to hold slaves under the provisions of the Discipline. We shall acknowledge and guarantee the en- tire of the privileges and immunities of all parties in the Church. 1 here declare, that if a remedy should be proposed that would trench on the constitutional claims of Southern ministers, I would not, to save the Church from any possi- ble calamity, violate this great charter of our rights. I am glad of the opportunity of saying that no man who is a Meth- odist, and deserves a place among us, can call in question here any rights secured by our charter. I do not say that he may not be a very honest or a very pious man who doubts the compatibility of slaveholding on the conditions of the Dis- cipline with the ministerial office ; but in this he is not a 168 LIFE AND LETTERS. Methodist. He may be a very good man, but a very bad Methodist ; and if such a man doubts if the Church will re- form, or is too impatient of delay, let him, as I would in his place, do as our friends in New England did last year, go to some other Church, or set up one for himself. " ' Not only is holding slaves, on the conditions and under the restrictions of the Discipline, no disqualification for the min- isterial office, but I will go a little further, and say that slave- holding is not constitutionally a forfeiture of a man's right, if he may be said to have one, to the office of a bishop. The Church, spread out through all the land, will always determ- ine for itself what are disqualifications and what are not, and it has a perfect right to determine whether slaveholding, or abolitionism, or any other fact, shall be taken into considera- tion in its elections. " ' These are my principles. I have never doubted with re- gard to them. I will add, that I can never give a vote which does violence to my sentiments in regard to the religious as- pect of the subject. I here declare that if I ever saw the graces of the Christian ministry displayed or its virtues de- veloped, it has been among slaveholders. I wish here to divest myself of what to some may seem an advantage that does not belong to me. I would not conceal I avow that I was a slaveholder, and a minister at the South, and I never dreamed that my right to the ministry was questionable, or that in the sight of God I was less fitted to preach the Gos- pel on that account. And if the state of my health had not driven me away from that region, I should probably have been a slaveholder to this day. In this day of reform and manifold suggestions, I go further, and say that if by a vote of this General Conference you might call in question the right of our Southern brethren to the ministry, and make their claim to the sacred office dependent on their giving im- mediate freedom to their slaves, I do not think that that would be a blessing to the slaves or the Church. I do not SPEECH AT THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 169 believe the slave fares worse for having a Christian master, and I think the preachers may have more of public confidence on our present plan. I know these opinions may by some be regarded as unsound, and I make them not because they have any special value or novelty, but because I profess to speak my sentiments freely. " 'With regard to the particular case before us, I feel con- strained to make one or two remarks. If ever there was a man worthy to fill the episcopal office by his disinterested- ness, his love of the Church, his ardent, melting sympathy for all the interests of humanity ; but, above all, for his un- compromising and unreserved advocacy of the interest of the slave if these are qualifications for the office of a bishop, then James 0. Andrew is pre-eminently fitted to hold that office. I know him well. He was the friend of my youth ; and although by his experience and position fitted to be a father, yet he made me a brother, and no man has more fully shared my sympathies or more intimately known my heart for these twenty years. His house has been my home ; on his bed have I lain in sickness, and he, with his sainted wife now in heaven, has been my comforter and nurse. No question under heaven could have presented itself so painfully oppressive to my feelings as the one now before us. If I had a hundred votes, and Bishop Andrew were not pressed by the difficulties which now rest upon him without any wrong in- tention on his part, I am sure he is the man to whom I would give them all. I know no man who has been so bold an ad- vocate for the interest of the slaves ; and when I have been constrained to refrain from saying what, perhaps, I should have said, I have heard him at camp-meetings and other public occasions call fearlessly on masters to see to the spir- itual and temporal interests of their slaves as a high Chris- tian duty. Excepting one honored brother, whose name will hereafter be recorded as one of the greatest benefactors of the African race, I know of no man who has done so much for IT. H 170 LIFE AND LETTERS. the slave as Bishop Andrew. I know, sir, I am not speak- ing to the question ; but I am stating facts facts which I am sure will lead brethren to act with caution and tender- ness in this business. " ' It will be readily inferred from what I have said, that if we can not act without calling in question the rights of the Southern brethren, we had better, in my opinion, not act at all ; for I believe it would be better to submit to the great- est calamities than infringe upon our own constitution. Yet it seems to me that we are not shut up to such a disastrous course, and that we may so dispose of this case as to escape both these difficulties. We can not punish. I would not vote for any resolution that would even censure ; and yet, with the powers that confessedly belong to the General Con- ference, I trust some measure may be adopted that may great- ly palliate and diminish, if it can not wholly avert, the dan- gers that threaten us. The substitute now proposed I regard as such a measure. In it this General Conference expresses its wish and will that under existing circumstances, meaning by that word not merely the fact that Bishop Andrew has become a slaveholder, but the state of the Church, the sen- timents that prevail the excitement and the deep fe'eling of the people on the subject feeling, it may be, which dis- qualifies them for calm, dispassionate views in the premises that under these circumstances it is the wish and will of the brethren of this Conference that Bishop Andrew, against whom we bring no charge on whose fair character we fix no reproach should for the present refrain from the exercise of his episcopal functions. This resolution proposes no pun- ishment. It does not censure. It expresses no opinion of the bishop's conduct. It only seeks to avert disastrous re- sults, by the exercise of the conservative, of the self-preserv- ing powers of this Conference. " ' If the brethren who occupy the extreme positions in this question seek rather to allay than excite the fever of SPEECH AT THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 171 feeling, we will yet hope even allow me to believe that these difficulties may be removed. I had even thought, if we could so manage this question as to avoid casting any re- flections upon the South ; if we could hold Bishop Andrew without an impeachment ; if we are careful to save that point as far as possible, I have confidence that whenever he believes he can do it without compromising a principle, which, I know, in the present situation, he feels himself called upon to repre- sent and maintain if we could save that point, and hold up a shield over the interests dearer to him and others than his own life even I do not allow myself to despair that, as soon as circumstances will allow, and difficulties now insuperable shall be removed, he will be ready to make great sacrifices for the general good of the Church. I have no right to say so ; I only give it as my conviction, that if he can possibly relieve us of our embarrassment, he will. My confidence in the man is such that I have no hesitation in asserting this, I look at this proposition not as a punishment of any grade or sort. It is as if you were to say to Dr. Peck, your editor, who for some cause might have become unpopular, "You are our agent circumstances are at present unfavorable to your exercising your functions, and in the exertion of our just dis- cretion in the case, and because your want of favor with the public interferes with the success of that department over which you are placed, we withdraw you for the present from this particular field of duty. We do not censure you, and we cordially retain you in the ranks of our ministry." I am not learned in constitutional law. It is, perhaps, for want of lar- ger experience that this is the only view I am able to take of this subject, at which, however, I think I have arrived by a course, I will not say of sound argument, but by natural and easy approaches. With my constitutional views, I am allowed to inquire in this case, which course will do the least harm ? And I believe that proposed by this substitute to be a constitutional measure dishonorable to none. As such, I 172 LIFE AND LETTERS. should wish it to go forth, with the solemn declaration of this General Conference that we do not design it as a punishment or a censure ; that it is, in our apprehension, only a pruden- tial and expedient measure, calculated to avert the great evils that threaten us. " ' I know the difficulties of the South. I know the excite- ment that is likely to prevail among the people there. Yet, allowing our worst fears all to be realized, the South will have this advantage over us the Southern Conferences are likely, in any event, to harmonize among themselves they will form a compact body. In our Northern Conferences this will be impossible, in the present state of things. They can not bring their whole people to act together on one common ground ; stations and circuits will be so weakened and broken as, in many instances, to be unable to sustain their ministiy. I speak on this point in accordance with the conviction of my own judgment, after having traveled three thousand miles through the New England and New York Conferences, that, if some action is not had on this subject calculated to hold out hope to impart a measure of satisfaction to the people there will be distractions and divisions ruinous to souls, and fatal to the permanent interests of the Church. '"I feel, sir, that if this great difficulty shall result in sep- aration from our Southern brethren, we lose not our right hand merely, but our very heart's blood. Over such an event I should not cease to pour out my prayers and tears as over a grievous and unmitigated calamity. It was in that part of our Zion that God, for Christ's sake, converted my soul. There I first entered on the Christian ministry. From thence come the beloved, honored brethren who now surround me, with whom and among whom I have labored, and suf- fered, and rejoiced, and seen the doings of the right hand of the Son of God. If the day shall come when we must be separated by lines of demarcation, I shall yet think often of those beyond with the kindest, warmest feelings of an honest SPEECH AT THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 173 Christian heart. But, sir, I will yet trust that we may put far off this evil day. If we can pass such a measure as will shield our principles from all infringement if we can send forth such a measure as will neither injure nor justly offend the South as shall neither censure nor dishonor Bishop An- drew, and yet shall meet the pressing wants of the Church, and, above all, if Almighty God shall be pleased to help by pouring out his Spirit upon us, we may yet avoid the rock on which we now seem but too likely to split. " ' I will add one word in reference to what has been so oft- en repeated about the abolition excitement in New England and the North. I have never thought it a good thing to in- troduce agitation into the Church. I have thought it better, so far as practicable, to keep clear from all controversies, and for myself have felt bound to do so. I have been kept from taking any part in the great abolition controversy by the ar- rangements of Providence ; but I must declare that the in- terests, the purposes, the measures which seem at this time to unite the North in sympathy have not originated with ab- olitionists, usually so called. The concern felt on the subject now before us is much more general. The New York Con- ference, of which I was made a member when abroad, and without my knowledge, was never an abolition Conference. Some of my friends, members of that Conference, and them- selves decided abolitionists, have complained to me of the action of that body, in suspending some young preachers for their activity in the abolition cause, as flagrantly tyrannical and unjust. The Troy Conference is not an abolition Con- ference, and never was. These and other Northern Confer- ences have firmly opposed the abolition movement. They have been as a wall of brass to turn back the strong tide, and protect the Southern rights and interests. " ' Ministers and laymen, in some portions of our work, have agitated this question in their Conferences and Church- es, but generally Northern Methodists have been opposed to 174 LIFE AND LETTERS. such action. They commonly regard slavery as a great evil, though not necessarily a sin ; but it would be a great mis- take to conclude that the anti-slavery sentiments of Method- ists have been wholly or mostly the fruits of Church action or agitation. Brethren fall into a great error in imagining that all the abolition influences abroad in the Northern Churches originated in them. On the contrary, our common newspapers, the contests and canvassings connected with our elections, our periodical literature, are rife with abolitionism on other and broader grounds. It is perhaps to be regretted that this embarrassing subject is so much discussed at the North ; but it is certainly true that Methodists here derive their sentiments chiefly from such sources as I have intima- ted from their reading, and from their intercourse with their fellow-citizens. They are abolitionists naturally and inevi- tably, because they breathe the atmosphere of this country because the sea is open to free adventure their freighted ships bring home periodicals and books from all the countries of Europe tinged, or, if any prefer, infected with these views. The difficulties of this question, then, do hot arise chiefly from its relation to abolitionism in the Church, but from the general tone of feeling among the people of the non-slave- holding states. " ' I trust, sir, that, in pronouncing our sentiments on the subject under consideration, we shall not regard ourselves as acting for distinct and antagonistic interests that we shall not inquire whether we may inflict an injury on one portion of the Church, regarded by itself, and no doubt justly, as ever mindful of its constitutional obligations, to save another por- tion from evils engendered in the hot-bed of abolitionism part of the Church ever ready to trample down constitutional barriers, and remove old landmarks and securities. " 'That is not the true issue ; for in four fifths of the anti- slavery Conferences, to say nothing of the rest, there have been no agitations, no seeds of abolition sown, but the people have SPEECH AT THE GENERAL CONFERENCE. 175 formed their opinions as citizens of the country, and, not- withstanding these convictions on the subject, they have as tender a regard for the interests of the Church as any of their brethren. As a member of the New York Conference, I do most earnestly protest against any declaration which shall go forth before the world affirming or intimating that the New York Conference, as such, has at all meddled in this matter, except to prevent apprehended evil, and to perform what it regarded as a pressing, though painful, duty to the whole Church. I will only say further, that in our action in the case of a venerable and beloved bishop we have trouble and sorrow enough heaped upon us Pelioifron Ossa afflictions on afflictions. Let not, then, this drop of bitterness be wrung into the cup which we are compelled to drink. Let it not be said that we are groaning under the pressure of difficulties arising from an agitation which we have got up and can not now allay. Let it not be said that we are now suffering the consequences of our unconstitutional meddling with the subject of slavery ; that the seed sown by us has sprung up, and we are now reaping the harvest. As a delegate from the New York Conference, I sympathize with its honor ; and I declare, before heaven and earth, that it is no fault of that body of ministers that we are now pressed down with such a burden of difficulties. Sir, there are men in this Conference Avho have suffered much in vindicating what they regarded as the rights of the South. My venerable friend on my right has, on this account, received great and unmerited obloquy. Another excellent minister on my left, and many more not now in my eye, have been reproached as pro-slavery men and men-stealers, for the part they thought it their duty to take against the ultra view and measures that threatened to pre- vail a few years ago. They have deserved well I think they have merited the thanks of Southern brethren for their earnest efforts to shield them and their rights against encroachments on the constitution of the Church. 176 LIFE AND LETTERS. " ' Sir, I have done. I do not pretend to have succeeded in making a constitutional argument. My object was to do my duty in stating, as well as I was able, the just and proper grounds of the proposed resolution.' " It may readily be imagined that the following spon- taneous expressions of affectionate attachment that fell from the lips of one of his Southern brethren in the course of the ensuing debate called forth responses in his own warm heart. Rev. Gr. F. Pierce remarked, " That there was an honored representative of the New York Conference, My brain very soon complains under hard work. So I am likely to go on, if I go on at all. After all, this is an ill, ungrateful strain. I was no better than a dead man for five years, and was utterly without hope of do- ing any thing. This partial restoration is little less than a resurrection. This has been, upon the whole, the best sum- mer I have had in twenty years. I enjoy life. I have a happy home. I fill a gap which it would, perhaps, just now be hard to fill with any body else. Somebody must serve tables. "Why not I? I will do it gladly, if God so ordain. You and other more favored ones may win honors, and do good service to the Church in a higher sphere. You can not be happier than I am in occasionally preaching Christ. You can not be less worthy of that and all other privi- leges CXV. TO THE REV. SEYMOUR LAXDON. "Middletown, Nov. 12th, 1844. Do you recollect exactly or nearly how long it is since you wrote to me or I to you ? Do you remember whether you or I wrote last ? I do not. Perhaps you did, but I think not. This is, however, of little comparative importance, though I profess to feel a very lively interest in maintaining a place in your memory, and, if it may be, in your friendship. I doubt if it be ever good policy to permit the rust of time to gather upon such ties as I think have united you and me. A little neglect or forgetfulness may do the sad office of beginning a what shall I call it ? not alienation, which is hardly pos- sible not coldness, which is rather too positive for the occa- sion a less lively sympathy a less ardent attachment a less confiding intimacy evils not to be lightly incurred, at our time of life, by men who have in their temperament so strong demands for the confidence of affection and friendship. 1 have experienced a loss in this respect which must, no doubt, prove irreparable, in the alienation of my Southern 204 LIFE AND LETTERS. friends. They were my first religious associates and friends ; they were strongly attached to me ; they no doubt overval- ued me. Events have since demonstrated what I could but foresee. I have reason to believe that, from being undeserv- edly trusted and beloved, I have become specially obnoxious, not to the leading men only, but to the Southern Church. With one exception, no man has been so often alluded to in terms of reproach as I have in their papers.* To this my former connection with slavery renders me specially liable. I have been led carefully to review that connection, and I am not able to feel that I did wrong. I no doubt often erred in my management of my servants, yet even in this I was con- scientious. The relation itself I entered upon at first igno- rantly. I did not know, when I married, that rny wife was owner of slaves. I bought, in two or three instances, with no view to speculate in that way. 1 sold, when I must, with single reference to the well-being of the weaker party, and at a loss. All this I have prayerfully reviewed many, many times, and with emotions not to be described, yet I have not been able to feel that I sinned in being the owner of slaves. Yet I the more humbly and patiently endure reproach from a feeling that I may have misjudged in this business. I should not again hold such a relation, rather from the expe- rienced inconveniences of it, and from the liability that is in- curred to impair a minister's usefulness in possible contin- gencies, than from any new convictions on the subject. If my views be wrong if the full charity I extend to the South be an error or a sin in me, I pray God to forgive me, and set me right. "With the consciousness of rectitude, I can not feel deeply the shafts that are hurled at me. I only re- gret the loss of invaluable friendships. This, too, was in my view when I did my duty in the General Conference, and I may not refuse to endure it. If the whole were to be acted * In the heat and excitement of controversy, probably many tilings were said on all sides which calmer moods would have disowned. DIVISION OF THE CHURCH. 205 over again, I am unable to see how I could do otherwise. I think our action in the bishop's case right and legal the proper measure on right grounds. I also think the plan for division wise and necessary, and I lament over the efforts made to thwart it as destined to do incalculable harm. It would give us two Churches, but homogeneous. They might live in harmony with each other, and probably ivould among themselves. I can not help looking upon our Church affairs with despondency, though little prone to it. Besides the great difficulty, that, perhaps, has produced a general leth- argy. The Church is not anxious and penitent, but worldly, and cold, and careless. The missionary spirit is all but ex- tinct. We do not even hear of revivals. Our periodical press is given up, soul and body, to bitter controversies. Why does not somebody see the danger and raise the alarm ? We shall rue these days. We must repent in the dust. God will reckon with the Church. O that we may be wise in time ! I beg of you to consider these views, and tell me if they are chimerical it will relieve me to know it that my fears arc groundless. What a letter ! I had other matters to write, but not these 206 LIFE AND LETTERS. CHAPTER VII. VISITS WASHINGTON AND BOSTON FUNERAL SERMON A MISSION- ARY'S MARRIAGE. DR. OLIN passed part of the winter vacation in New York, at the house of his wife's father, and the remain- der of the time in Washington, under the hospitable roof of his valued friend and physician, the late Dr. Sewell. While there, he preached in the Hall of the House of Representatives. The Hon. Rufus Choate observed to a friend, on leaving the Capitol, that Dr. Olin's preaching was characterized by the same rare combination of forcible thought and deep feeling that gave the preaching of Chalmers its great po\ver. In the sermon to which he had just listened, he said the mind was led on with logical accuracy, through a reg- ular gradation of thought, to the desired climax, while the hearer was borne onward, at the same time, by an impetuous tide of emotion. He passed a day or two in Baltimore, and preached one evening in the beautiful Methodist Church in Charles Street. His subject was the mediation of Christ a theme oh which he dwelt with peculiar delight, and which he had found to be greatly blessed to his hearers. " Soon after his return to his official duties at Middletown, on the 9th of Feb- ruary, 1845,'' writes a friend, "he preached a sermon on ' Ye are the light of the world.' which, I believe, form- ed an era in Mrs. 's religious life, and which should have produced similar effects upon us all." RELIGIOUS COMMUNINGS. 207 In March he went again to Boston, to make some efforts in Lehalf of the university, hut, as usual, when there, he was prostrated hy the effects of the climate, and for weeks he was confined to the house. It was well that he \vas surrounded by cheerful, affec- tionate faces, in the family of his friend, Mr. Sleeper, during this period of protracted indisposition. One of his brethren,* who visited him frequently, has treas- ured up some remembrances of this period, of no com- mon interest. " He was not prone to say much respecting his religious experience or himself publicly ; but in social, and especially in private conversation, he delighted to testify of the grace of God as revealed in his own history. During a period of ill- ness, while he was in Boston where he almost always suf- fered under the climate he took a ride for exercise in a car- riage through the beautiful adjacent villages. I was his only companion in the excursion, and the conversation became of the most personal and familiar character, especially in refer- ence to subjects of religious experience. I never before saw him when his spirit was more mellow, more heavenly. The simplicity of the child, the meekness of the sage, seemed blended in his person. The conversation flowed along from topic to topic, with surpassing interest to myself. There was no reserve in speaking of the gracious experiences which the Lord had deigned to him. He ventured to indulge even the highest confidences. God had sanctified him, soul, body, and spirit, as he believed. " The subject was one of no little interest to me. I allud- ed to the diversity and exceeding crudeness of recent opinions among us respecting it. ' I had,' he remarked, in substance, ' difficulties regarding our theoretic views of the doctrine. I even joined the Conference with exceptions to it, and staled * The Rev. Abel Stevens. 208 LIFE AND LETTERS. my objections when a candidate before the whole body. But I was admitted, the Conference expressing the hope that further inquiries would rectify my views. Years, however, passed without any modification of my opinions. But it pleased God to lead me into the truth. My health failed, my official employments had to be abandoned ; I lost my chil- dren, my wife died, and I was wandering over the world alone, with scarcely any thing remaining but God. I lost my hold on all things else, and became, as it were, lost my- self in God. My affections centered in Him. My will be- came absorbed in His. I sunk, as it were, into the blessing of His perfect love, and found in my own consciousness the reality of the doctrine which I had theoretically doubted.' " Some years have elapsed since this conversation. I can not pretend to give it verbally, but this was its substance. He lived through the remainder of his career in the spirit and power of the great doctrine of holiness. His views of it were remarkable for their simplicity. The usual technical subtil- ties and metaphysical embarrassments of theorists hardly re- ceived his consideration. He saw the simple, perfect stand- ard of evangelic holiness ; he perceived that neither himself nor the Christian world generally lived up to it ; he gave himself entirely to it by laying his whole being on the altar of consecration, where he daily kept it by faith and watch- fulness." He wrote, this spring, a series of articles on the sub- ject of collegiate education. As they exhibit the com- prehensive views and deep convictions upon which his course of action was based, some extracts from them are introduced, according to their dates, in the corre- spondence of this year. He took no part in the contro- versy between the North and the South, which agitated the Church at this time, but on the 8th of July he gave utterance to his opinions on the subject, in a letter ad- BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS FOR 1845. 209 dressed to the editor of the Christian Advocate and Journal, and designed to promote, as far as in him lay, "the holy ends of peace and quietness." Four days after, in a letter to a friend, he says : " Is it not a mis- fortune to be rich ? Yet who feels that it would be so in his case ? If, however, we are called to some im- portant agency in promoting Christ's kingdom on the earth, ought we not to regard the loss of a single year as an evil which no amount of worldly prospects can atone for ? How will these things appear in the day of judgment ? Oh ! how will any of our services ap- pear then ? God grant that we may have that bet- ter security, found in the merits of our crucified Re- deemer !" At Commencement he gave to the graduating class a baccalaureate address, on " The Resources and Duties of Christian Young Men." It was published at the request of the class, and elicited the following genial notice from the Rev. Dr. "Wightman, of Charleston, S. C. : " This discourse reminds us more of the brother Olin of 1824, when, in our boyish days, we sat under his ministry in this city, from January to July, than any late production of his pen. Here is all the strength of reasoning, the clear insight into the labyrinths of the human heart, the fine discrimination of character and exuberance of winged imagination, the profound loyalty to the stern peculiarities of Christianity, the unction and power which made him, at that time, one of the greatest of preachers." On the 7th of September he preached a sermon in the college chapel to a deeply interested audiertce, on the fifth verse of the 39th Psalm : " Thou hast made 210 LIFE AND LETTERS. my days as an hand-breadth." The occasion was a sol- emn one. Two students Christian young men, of fine talents and high character had been called away from the studies intended to prepare them for their life-work, to the higher culture adapted to the dwell- ers in heavenly places. One had met the sure messen- ger at his own home in Lowell, whither he had been summoned from college by the illness and death of sev- eral members of his family, the victims of a prevailing epidemic. The death of the other young Grould was the first that had occurred among the students at Middletown, during Dr. Olin's administration, and pow- erfully did he bring to bear upon the young men be- fore him the deeply, solemn contemplations connected with death and eternity. One student among those who listened until shadowy and unsubstantial thoughts became fearful and glorious realities, pressing upon the mind and heart with unwonted power determined, in that hour of clear vision, to consecrate himself to the service of that Redeemer who has poured light even upon the darkness of the tomb. Late in October, Dr. Olin was called upon to do a service of a different character for one of the graduates at the preceding Commencement. The Missionary Board wished to appoint a young man of liberal edu- cation as principal of the seminary at Monrovia, and Mr. Williams, who had placed himself at the disposal of the Board, received the appointment. As the vessel was soon to sail, but a limited time was allowed him to bid farewell to his friends and to prepare for his voyage. Besides the ordinary preparations, he was to "marry a wife." The lady was a daughter of one of the mem- MARRIAGE OK A MISSIONARY. bers of the Methodist Church in Middletown, and Mr. Williams could only spend the Sabbath in that place. As he was very desirous to be married by Dr. Olin, who was too ill to leave the house, it was arranged that the ceremony should take place at the president's house that evening. The parents and sisters of the bride, and the professors and their wives, were invited to be present. The autumn flowers were all gone, and, with no green-house at hand, all that could be found to gar- nish the parlors for the hasty bridal were the orange berries of the bitter sweet, and the snow berry, mingled with green leaves. With some effort Dr. Olin came down stairs and performed the ceremony, which made the twain one for a brief period. The usual words of congratulation seemed out of place. Thoughts of the perils of the sea and of an unfriendly climate loomed up in the distance and checked the flow of hopeful an- ticipations. After a while. Dr. Olin, seated in his arm- chair, gave utterance to some of the feelings of the hour. It was to him an occasion of deep interest the sending forth from the university, for the first time dur- ing his administration, of a foreign missionary. He said that he was very choice of his young men that he highly valued an educated Christian young man, with a mind disciplined by study, and trained to holy activity in his Master's cause. He was anxious that such an instrument should be used to the greatest pos- sible advantage, and he had some misgivings that the young brother going from among them might find the African climate not adapted to his peculiar constitution. Then came earnest words on the duty and blessedness of entire consecration to the Redeemer's service, and 212 LIFE AND LETTERS. fervent wishes and prayers for his well-being and his prosperity in the work to which ho had set his hand. The Rev. Dr. Holdich, in his prayer, gave expression to the deep desires of that little company, who, after sing- ing Heber's noble missionary hymn, parted, never all to meet again on earth. The recollections of that even- ing assumed a mournful interest, when in a few months the tidings came that the young missionary had fallen a victim to the African fever, by which he was attacked shortly after his arrival.* On the first of November Dr. Olin sailed for Savan- nah, his health requiring the relaxation of a sea-voyage, which was always of service to him. His journal let- ters, which will be found in the correspondence of this year, give a graphic picture of the discomforts as well as the compensations of life at sea. He returned early in December, and, after spending some weeks in New York, where he preached a number of times, he went to Boston for the remainder of the vacation, with the hope of carrying out some plans which the failure of his health had repeatedly interrupted. Letters written from, January, 1845, to May, 1846. CXVI. TO JOHN M. FLOURNOY, ESQ. Middletown, January 30th, 1845. VERY DEAR SIR, Your letter of the 8th instant reached me last evening. I should perhaps say, more properly, I reached it, as I returned home last evening after an absence of some weeks. This is the termination of our long vacation, and we recommence operations to-day. * This vacant place is now filled by the Rev. J. W. Home, a student who graduated a year after Dr. Olin's death, and who the son of a Wesleyan missionary, horn and brought up in the West Indies, has fair prospects of being able to live and work in a tropical climate. CHURCH DIFFICULTIES. 213 Allow me to congratulate you on returning " home," and yet more, on becoming a father. These words imply great responsibilities and weighty cares, but yet more emphatically the best sources of earthly pleasures. I can not doubt that you possess all the requisites, both in yourself and in her who is the sharer of your lot, for making domestic and conjugal life happy and useful ; and with these requisites it is, and is designed to be, the most favorable condition for doing good, and for working out our salvation. May God add to your happy house, and to your young family, all the rich blessings and bright ornaments of his providence and grace. May yours be a house of peace and of prayer, which Christ shall delight to honor by his presence, and in which he shall be honored by all the Christian virtues and observances which shall constitute yours a " household of faith." I will riot apologize for indulging in a strain to which I feel myself im- pelled in writing to my friend, and the son of my friend, on so interesting a change in his relations to society and to the future. How much I should rejoice to know that you had consecrated these fresh blessings, with the many you en- joyed before, to the great Giver, in the spirit of faith and love. It would be impossible for me to express a small measure of the anguish I have experienced from our Church difficul- ties. I did all I could to prevent them all I could to di- minish them all I could to render them the less intolerable by providing for them when inevitable. Especially, I have constantly endeavored to carry out the plan of the General Conference for a peaceful division, which I have all along regarded as inevitable. I have regretted all attempts to pre- vent this, as calculated to aggravate the evils that beset us. I will yet hope that, after some time shall have elapsed, bet- ter feeling will return to all parties, and we may pass this great crisis with less injury than now seems to be inevitable. I must confess that my regrets are much aggravated by per- 214 LIFE AND LETTERS. sonal considerations. My most cherished attachments are in the South. I have lost nearly all my friends there by the part which I felt bound in duty to act in this business, and which I could but act again in a similar case. I have no complaints to make of any, though many have not been sat- isfied with allowing me the benefit of my own motives and my own explanations. I have been perpetually represented in the papers as calling in question the rights of Southern Methodists to the privileges of the ministry and the Church, though I fully acknowledge them in word and deed. I also advocated them as well as I could. Yet it is certainly true that a state of things had come upon us in which I believed it impossible to avoid the adoption of measures which might divide us. So it turns out and I would gladly do or avoid any and every thing to promote, as much as possible, our fu- ture harmony. I know no difference in the two parties into which we are divided. With affectionate salutations to Mrs. Flournoy, I am, as ever, yours with sincere regard, STEPHEN OLIN. CXVII. TO MRS. . I am quite unable to read or to hear, but I have ventured to listen to your "Annie Walton," as I did the other day to "Little Ella." Thinking it possible that my approbation may give you a little encouragement, I feel constrained to say to you that I can but detect in these little books a voca- tion for you. I think them excellent. Annie Walton will probably lead some to righteousness. Write on, seeking for yourself a deeper baptism into Christ's Spirit. You may be a blessing to many, and may God make the good work a bless- ing to you. Excuse this intrusion of unasked advice from a very sincere friend.* Saturday morning, January 24th, 184G. * This note, which belongs to the correspondence of the next year, has been misplaced. It was written in pencil from a momentary im- pulso, \vliilo thp writnr was takinjr a foot-bath. REDEEMING THE TIME. 215 CXVIII. TO MISS CLARINDA OLIN. Middletown, Feb. 9th, 1845. I hope that none of my friends will infer, from any seeming indisposition on my part to devote as much time as I formerly did to correspondence, visits, &c., that I feel less interest in their welfare than I have manifested. I arn more busy than ever. I have more health than I have en- joyed for, perhaps, twenty years, and with it more duties more official and ministerial duties. Formerly I could do little besides visit and journey. Now I have no time for either, when I have no object beyond my personal gratifica- tion, and I feel bound to attend to my duties and sacrifice merely social satisfactions. I have done very little in my life that ought to satisfy a Christian man, though I have made many long journeys to visit my friends. My days are far spent. I have just now a little unexpected strength for la- borious duties, and I shall probably feel it to be my duty to give it a direction not always the most gratifying to my pri- vate inclination. I have not been to Vermont since I left West Poultney, in July, '42, and though I much desire to see our friends there, I am unable to foresee when that pleasure may be secured. I have to attend several Conferences in be- half of the university all my vacations are and must be de- voted to the same interest. I am liable to be called to Maine or Niagara, to Boston or New York at any time, and, unless some of these business tours lead me to Vermont, I know not when I may again see my native state. Be this as God will, I must spend these few days of comparative health which He allows me in doing his will. You will be glad to know that I have a very pleasant home, though I am much away from it There is a very intelligent com- munity with whom our relations are exceedingly agreeable, except that these social demands are a little too numerous and etrorig for a man who ought to give his very scanty leisure 216 LIFE AND LETTERS. to literary pursuits. With these, however, I may probably have little to do, and I am trying to be content, as, indeed, I ought to be, with this unlooked-for ability to engage in active duties Cultivate a cheerful, contented spirit, and a calm, confiding piety. These are the best securities for happiness here and hereafter. I am glad your religious priv- ileges are so satisfactory. This, after convenient food and raiment, is, after all, the main thing. We are then in the way of living usefully and dying happily, which constitute the principal objects of our being. May God protect you and guide you. We, perhaps, shall hardly meet again in this world, though that may not be wholly improbable, but I trust we are in a way to meet in heaven. CXIX. TO THE REV. DR. M'CLINTOCK. Middletown, Feb. 3d, 1845. There is just now an imperative want of mod- eration and of a spirit of concession. God only knows if these virtues have any longer a place among us to such an extent as the crisis calls for. I do not forget, my dear friend, your remarks upon the sort of prudence which I feel it to be my duty to inculcate. I do not see with you I can not, that the General Conference lacked courage or wisdom in its measures. It pursued the moderate, and, as I think, the prop- er course. It did what was necessary, and no more. More would not in any conceivable way have diminished the evils that beset us would not have postponed them would not have been a clearer declaration of principle. There was no dodging, no temporizing, and there was courageous modera- tion. So, at least, I continue to think, though in thinking so I differ from a friend for whose opinions I have the highest respect. I am sorry, at the end of more than half a year, to be compelled to admit that the promise of moderation, held out by the discussions of the General Conference, has griev- ously failed in the subsequent discussions Party spirit and controversy make wise and good men mad. NEED OF LIBERALITY. 217 CXX. OUR COLLEGES. Upon most of our colleges certainly upon that in which the Church has assigned me my sphere of labor a great and trying crisis has come, and an honest and earnest appeal is now made to the Church in its behalf. It is not a question about adding books to our library, or curious specimens to our cabinet, which is now proposed to the friends of the Wesley- an University, but one far more weighty and fundamental. I may say without egotism, for I am but a new- comer here, this institution has richly earned the confidence of the community. No college in this country has given to it a larger proportion of enterprising, intelligent, godly young men, ready to go any where in obedience to the call of duty, and to do any thing by which God may be honored and the welfare of men promoted. I do not fear contradiction when I say the graduates of the "Wesley an University are, as a class, such men as the Methodist Church most wants as instru- ments in the various departments of her work for fulfilling her great commission. They are to be found in nearly every Conference and every state in the Union, diffusing the bless- ings of religion and education, and so performing the highest duties which the Church owes to itself and to the communi- ty. Is the Church prepared to dry up the fountain to which it is indebted for so many streams of cheering, sanctified in- fluence ? Will it pronounce evil the tree which has yielded so early and so rich a harvest of precious fruit ? To ask these questions is, I am aware, to answer them ; but all will go for nothing if we may not have more substantial responses than mere echoes of approbation I have long hoped and prayed that some of our enlighten- ed friends, who are able to take large views of usefulness and duty, and with whom divine Providence has intrusted the means of doing good upon a liberal scale, would come forward in this exigency, and give extended, effective relief to sufier- II. K 218 LIFE AND LETTERS. ing interests, the importance of which they know so well how to appreciate. Such instances of nohle liberality are common in other denominations, and nearly all our Northern colleges have professorships endowed by the pious munificence of in- dividuals whose honored names they bear. I can not help regarding it as one of the most glorious re- sults of our free institutions, especially of the voluntary sys- tem in religion, that men have risen up in the various walks of life but chiefly among active business men of a patri- otism so elevated and a Christian philanthropy so large. I know not who else can, with equal justice, lay claim to the character of public benefactors. It is a high, inspiring thought that of laying the deep foundations of a usefulness which shall live and confer rich blessings on those who come after us of opening a fountain of living waters that may flow on perpetually, to cheer, and purify, and heal, through the long years of coming generations to kindle a light that shall diffuse radiance and gladness over the present, and, with the blessing of God, illuminate the unmeasured expanse which is to be filled up by the history of our Church and our pos- terity. I have long hoped and prayed that Methodists would be found to imitate these bright examples. There are rich, intelligent, large-hearted men among us, who both fear and scorn to " live unto themselves or die unto themselves." They love Christ they love the Church they love their species. "Will they not see, in the condition and wants of an institu- tion consecrated to the Savior the child of Methodism, and its chosen instrument for the performance of sacred and long- neglected duties to its ingenuous youth and to the world such an opportunity of promoting the dearest interests of re- ligion and humanity as must commend itself to their stron- gest, holiest sympathies ? Beyond all question, such a sac- rifice would be very acceptable to God, and approved by all who love his cause. It would do incalculable good, not to the Wesleyan University alone, but to the whole needy fam- DUTY OF PARENTS. 219 ily of Methodist colleges. We want such examples. They would certainly be imitated, and so a high, vital influence would be given to the neglected cause of education through- out the length and breadth of the connection. The man who shall first give his name to be associated with the memory of a generous endowment to a Methodist University will make of it a more potent argument for Christian liberality and Christian education than the most eloquent advocate of the holy interests of our Church has ever yet been able to wield.* February, 1845. CXXI. OUR COLLEGES DUTY OF PARENTS. Every Methodist congregation and every Methodist should be brought to feel that the right education of our youth is a high trust which it would be shameful to violate a Chris- tian duty which it would be criminal to neglect. Not the preacher only, but the teacher not the Church only, but the college and the school, must be recognized as the agents and instruments by which our Zion is to be enlarged and beauti- fied. "We much need an enlightened, high-toned, and sus- tained public sentiment on the subject of education, as the ba- sis of our arrangements and practical demonstrations. When that point shall once be secured, we shall have surmounted the chief of the difficulties that now impede this indispensa- ble melioration, and subsequent progress will be comparative- ly easy. Let the benefits of liberal education be extended to a sufficient number of the present generation of our youth, and their example will act upon their successors with pow- erful and even increasing efficiency. The younger brother * It afforded Dr. Olin high gratification, some years after, to hear of the noble liberality of a friend whom he had known at the South, the Rev. Mr. Wofford, a local preacher in the Methodist Church, who left $100,000 to establish a college in South Carolina, the state in which he resided. 220 LIFE AND LETTERS. will covet as a boon and claim as a right all the privileges which have been enjoyed by the elder the most ingenious and most courageous spirits of each successive class in the academy will eagerly follow their distinguished predecessors to the theatre of a higher intellectual training the sons, with pious emulation, will crowd the halls of learning in which their fathers won honorable distinction, and laid the founda- tion of eminence, and usefulness, and virtue. These are per- manent sources of patronage and supply, unknown to new institutions, and to a people but just embarking in education- al enterprises, though every well-directed effort and every year of successful progress contribute to their formation and efficiency. One of the most pressing wants of our higher lit- erary institutions would be relieved by the general diffusion of a spirit of education among the people ; and it is, perhaps, unreasonable to look for any effectual remedy for existing de- ficiencies until parents shall be more deeply impressed with the duty and the good policy of giving to their sons the best education within the reach of their means. Few, compara- tively, of our Methodist families have yet been brought to feel the importance of this subject. Many fathers among us even discourage the noble aspirations of their sons, and studiously divert them from a career for which their -intellectual capac- ities, their tastes, and decided inclinations have prepared them. Noble minds, formed by the nancl of God to be ben- efactors of the community and lights to the Church, are thus consigned to ignorance and obscurity. Others are left to an unequal struggle with pecuniary difficulties, and are at length stopped in the high road to the largest usefulness and the highest happiness, for the want of aid, which would cost the poorest no sacrifice, and inflict on his family no wrong. Ev- ery observant and sympathizing teacher is but too familiar with instances of the kind I have mentioned ; but no one, probably, could estimate the amount of evil which is thus in- flicted upon the Church and on civil society. AN ACCEPTABLE OFFERING. 221 What a glorious change would the next ten years accom- plish for our denomination if every Methodist father who has an intelligent, virtuous son, resolve at once to consecrate to the service of God and his country one disciplined, well-fur- nished, and well-principled intellect. Brief as this period is, it would be sufficient to quadruple our moral and intellectual power. The conception of so exalted a purpose, and the first entrance on so generous an enterprise, would elevate the tone of thought, and feeling, and hope throughout all the families of our Israel. We should speedily be prepared to demand and fill our proper place in the great business of public in- struction. Our voice would be heard in high places, where the rights and wrongs of men in the public weal are matters of debate. Authorship and the learned professions would give us our equitable share of the strong positions of human society, where the most good can be done and' the most evil prevented ; and, best of all, if God should continue to honor our institutions, as he has hitherto done, by the dews of his grace and the calls of his Spirit, we should have a noble army of ministers and missionaries, thoroughly furnished for every good work, and mighty, through God, to the pulling down of the strong-holds of sin. No event could be so auspicious to the true interests of religion and humanity as such a move- ment in the cause* *of education. Improvements, however, which depend on the dissemina- tion of new ideas among a multitude, and on changes in es- tablished habits of thought and action, can be introduced only by patient and persevering efforts. Yet enough might easily and speedily be effected for the sacred interests of ed- ucation to satisfy the more urgent wants and duties of the Church, and fill our higher institutions with pupils of the most promising character. The strength of the denomina- tion lies among those classes of society which habitually give to the country its strongest minds, as well as its strongest hands. Three fourths of all the educated men in the nation, 222 LIFE AND LETTERS. and a much larger proportion of our effective and useful cler- gymen, teachers, and professional men, are the sons of indus- trious agriculturists and mechanics. On the farm and in the workshop they learned those lessons of industry, and self- reliance, and manly independence which have given them the victory in after life over delicate, timid, indolent, and luxuri- ous competitors, and over labor, and opposition, and adversity. Just so long as their virtuous, brave, hard-working fathers shall continue to give instructors and rulers to the people will there be some fair chance for the perpetuation of a govern- ment of equal privileges and equal laws. In England, and over the continent of Europe, the son of a working man is rarely seen in the university or in professional life. Here they constitute the mass of students, of scholars, of ministers, and legislators. He must be short-sighted, indeed, who does not see in this hereditary and essential republicanism of our educated men a strong pledge and hope for the liberties of our posterity. This potent guarantee we can not afford to lose. It is not enough that good common schools impart ele- mentary knowledge to the masses. The capabilities which primary instruction develops must be nurtured by a higher culture, and so fitted to bless and preserve this free communi- ty. I look upon that man as the truest of Christians and of patriots who works with his hands that he may educate an intelligent, free, noble-hearted son for the service of God and his country. I have known Christian fathers and mothers, too, who cheerfully devoted the accumulations of toilsome, careful years to the attainment of this darling object of their lives ; and I profess that I have seldom felt a reverence so profound for any other forms of Christian virtue and parental affection. The presence of so lofty and pure a motive sweet- ens labor and ennobles economy, and it seldom fails of intro- ducing into the humblest family circle a liberalizing era of large views and generous desires, highly favorable to physical as well as moral improvement, and to general respectability RESPONSIBILITY OF PARENTS. 223 and success in the world. In no other region does this hero- ic spirit prevail to the same extent as in New England and New York. It is the distinguishing characteristic and glory of our virtuous and truly intellectual population, and instinct as it is with a high-toned, scriptural piety, we must pronounce this spirit to be the solitary antidote to all the downward tend- encies, inherent or accidental, which our social and political system is thought by many good men more and more to dis- close. It might be too much to affirm that our institutions will be safe so long as the masses, enlightened themselves by a sound elementary education, shall train up the choicest of their sons to be the guides and rulers of the people ; but we can have safety on no easier terms. On no other condi- tion is the enjoyment of so large a liberty possible. But I check myself, and turn away from these more gen- eral views and reflections to the practical conclusion to which they conduct us. It is for the fathers and mothers of our Methodist families to determine whether the Church shall ever perform to itself, to its Lord, and to the world the great duty which I have been endeavoring to develop and inculcate. Over the domain of childhood and youth they reign, without rivalry. God has intrusted to their keeping and culture many germs of intellect and genius the undeveloped re- sources of a vast mental and moral power. If this care of immortal beings this trust held for the Gospel and for man- kind for the present and for future generations for time and eternity involves high, social, and religious responsibil- ities, then they, more than all others, have a deep stake in the issue. They can easily supply the most urgent of our wants. All the world besides can not, for there is no authority under heaven that has a right to interfere, except by argument and entreaty, with the destiny to which they shall consign their offspring. Would Christian parents, then, rejoice to see the Church of their choice prosperous and influential, respectable and useful ? They can make it so. By the blessing of God, 224 LIFE AND LETTERS. they can insure its stability and extend its triumphs. Many on whom this great responsibility rests are in easy circum- stances, and could bestow on the Church and their own sons the most excellent of gifts, without the slightest inconven- ience. Many more could accomplish this object by such sac- rifices as they might well afford to make for the attainment of such an end. Two hundred dollars per annum is a suffi- cient allowance to meet all the expenses of a collegiate course. One hundred dollars will answer for a resolute, enterprising young man, disposed to help himself and practice a rigid econ- omy. A liberal education, for which the parent may not pay over five hundred dollars, or one thousand dollars, is likely to be more valuable to a youth of good natural parts than ten or twenty times the amount received in any other form. As a pecuniary transaction, no other investment is half so safe or promising. Such considerations, however, must be esteem- ed of very inferior importance in a question which involves moral results so vast in their number and magnitude. I have already dwelt upon them at sufficient length, and can. only repeat that, in my opinion, no good man can bestow upon the Church and his country a greater boon than a pious, intellectual, well-educated son. February, 1845. CXXII. COLLEGIATE EDUCATION DUTY OF YOUNG MEN. All important changes, whether for good or for evil, begin with the young. Middle-aged men seldom retain the power to modify habits, the growth of only a few active years, while even the opinions of the aged are for the most part unchange- able. Such are the safeguards which the Divine wisdom has provided in our nature against rash and hasty innovations. The indifference or opposition which zealous advocates of improvement are prone to regard as captious or obstinate is often but the result of a vis inertia, whose proper function is to prevent anomalous or exaggerated action. The greatest RESPONSIBILITY OP YOUNG MEN. 225 improvements may be only great evils, if they violate too grossly the proprieties of time and manner, and he may be a public benefactor who resists and retards, no less than he who promotes them. If reforms are made difficult and slow by this constitutional repugnance to change, they find in the same cause, when once they have been introduced, the stron- gest guarantee of stability, and a lasting influence. The te- dious years which must commonly be given to discussions, to demonstrations, and earnest appeals in behalf of any great public interest that has long been overlooked or neglected, are at length seen not to have been too many for a due prep- aration of the common mind for the reception of new and momentous truths, and the adoption of important changes. The season of delay often proves to have been but the seed- time, the sunshine, and the showers requisite for the produc- tion of the golden harvest. The argument and the exhorta- tion, which were lost upon the fathers, fell, as if by accident, on the listening ears of their children, and silently but surely imbued an entire generation with new opinions and convic- tions. This source of encouragement belongs peculiarly to the advocates of education. Whoever may fail to be convinced by their arguments, or moved to action by their expostula- tions, the ingenuous, aspiring hearts of the young are certain to be with them. It is for the young that institutions of learning are established and endowed, and if they should be found wanting in spirit, and energy, and largeness of views, then all the sacrifices which have been made for the advance- ment of this object will have been misdirected. The respons- ibility of young men is inconceivably great ; and if the theme were not trite and exhausted, I would hope to urge it upon them with some good effect. In ten years more, they who are now boys and minors will be chief instruments in carry- ing out all plans of melioration and mercy for mankind. Within that brief period they will become the teachers of our K 2 226 LIFE AND LETTERS. schools, and the tutors of our academies and colleges. Their voices will be heard in legislative halls, though men so young may still be more fit for action than for counsel. All elec- tions will be controlled by their superior activity ; so that, if not yet our rulers themselves, they will make our rulers, and thus virtually decide the great questions that may arise, whether of peace, or war, or domestic policy. Pulpits vacant for want of ministers, or vacated by their death, will, within a dozen years, be filled by the men who are now boys at school or debating whether they shall go to school ; and none but young men are sent out, or can properly be sent, as mis- sionaries. Within the whole range of human inquiry, can there be a question raised more deeply significant than this, " How shall these embryo lawgivers, and teachers, and divines the fu- ture guardians of the public weal, and the pastors and mes- sengers of the Churches be prepared to fulfill their high destiny ?" There will certainly be an immense demand for talents and virtues of every sort, but the foundations of use- fulness and success must be laid in a thorough education. Every civilized and improving community is perpetually tend- ing to a state in which high intellectual culture is an indis- pensable qualification for all professions and positions favor- able to the exercise of extensive influence. Ignorant, un- taught men, may, for a long time to come, perhaps always, find their way into high stations, but these will not be to them posts either of honor or influence. Whoever wears the titles, or bears away the emoluments of office or position, the real source of influence and moral power is in the cultivated minds of a community ; and the humblest schoolmaster or clergyman, engaged in the intelligent and conscientious dis- charge of his appropriate duties, contributes vastly more to the formation and control of public sentiment than the mere empty demagogue whom accident or dishonest acts have ex- alted to the Senate, which he disgusts and dishonors by his LABORERS NEEDED. 227 vapid declamation. No error is more prevalent or mischiev- ous than that which leads the aspiring youth to regard polit- ical distinctions and offices as highly desirable. This low amhition exerts a malign influence upon our young men. It sets them to work upon an unworthy motive, and gives a wrong direction to their efforts. The true end of education and of life, so far as the indi- vidual is concerned, is the highest improvement of the intel- lectual and moral powers ; so far as others are concerned, it is the best employment of these powers in doing good to our fellow-creatures and in glorifying God. Now these ends are often, I think, commonly more fully attained in the consci- entious and earnest discharge of the duties of private and pro- fessional life, than by the incumbents of what are usually re- garded more honorable and desirable stations. The teacher who has roused the dormant energies of half a dozen pupils, and given to them a virtuous direction, has done more for the well-being of his race than a conspicuous politician usually accomplishes during a whole lifetime. The faithful pastor of the humblest congregation commonly achieves more for the glory of God and the happiness of man than a member of Congress or a cabinet minister. The positions and pursuits which promise the greatest use- fulness are precisely those which are the most easily accessi- ble to all well-educated men who are willing to labor, and are zealous for truth and righteousness. "The field is the world." It invites culture from every willing hand, and every degree of talent, and enterprise, and devotion finds scope for manifestation, finds welcome and encouragement, and a good reward. There is no room for fear lest this high vocation to usefulness shall fail or be overdone. To the en- tire host of young men who have the heart to volunteer in such a service, and the nerve to qualify themselves for its du ties by wholesome mental and moral discipline, we may safely announce, " The Lord hath need of them." He has designs 228 LIFE AND LETTERS. of mercy not yet half accomplished in this Christian land, and scarcely announced to three fourths of the world. " The harvest truly is great, and the laborers are few." The Lord of the harvest wants sowers ; He wants reapers. Let no one be over-curious to know beforehand what part shall be assigned to him, assured that, in any event, he shall have work enough. No convinced and earnest soul ever inquired, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" without having em- ployment assigned him, and employment worthy a pupil of Gamaliel. No weeping Hannah ever vowed her first-born to God, and " took him up with her to the house of the Lord," without finding for him some place and some func- tion honored with the Divine approbation. Thus far I have endeavored to show the imperative de- mand for well-educated young men, and to remove some of the apprehensions which are likely to be felt by those who have proceeded so far as to send out upon this field of enter- prise an exploring glance. I have shown, I hope satisfacto- rily, that there is yet room in the vineyard for a host of well- trained laborers, and that there is little danger of a supera- bundant supply. My remarks have been general, but the argument and the exhortation of which they are the vehicle find additional force in their special application to the state of education in the Methodist Episcopal Church. Upon our grievous wants and our overwhelming responsibilities I have before dwelt at sufficient length. I have also tried to incul- cate the duty of providing more ample means for the educa- tion of our youth. I would now appeal more directly to those for whom all this preparation is made, and who must, in the end, be the chief instruments of the melioration sought for. Comparatively few of our young men are sufficiently imbued with the spirit of education. Hundreds there are of the best natural parts and the best dispositions, to whom it has hardly occurred that by devoting a few years to intellect- ual culture they may vastly augment their resources for RESOURCES OF A CULTIVATED MIND. 229 usefulness and happiness. They have not failed to perceive our want of educated men, but have not thought of the very obvious truth that it is for them, and such as they, to supply the want. If they shall shrink from the labor and sacrifice if they lack the philanthropy, the zeal, and the high aspirations necessary for this work, it can never be done. The Church looks to them ; it can look nowhere else in this emergency. Every argument which goes to demonstrate that it is the duty of the Church to provide the means of educa- tion, is equally conclusive as to the duty of her sons to avail themselves of the means provided. There are always enough of merely selfish motives to in- duce an intelligent youth to prefer the career which a liberal education opens before him to common pursuits. As a pe- cuniary question, it is the best investment he can make of so much money and time. In the new form which he thus gives to his capital, it is exempted from most of the vicissi- tudes and liabilities to which all branches of business are ex- posed, for the resources of a cultivated intellect remain un- impaired after mere pecuniary treasures have vanished, and the permanent wants of civilized society insure for them am- ple and worthy employment. It is also a consideration of vast moment, that the pursuits of an educated man perpet- ually and naturally tend to enlarge and improve his intellect- ual powers. If faithful to himself, he is constantly becoming a wiser and a better man, more fitted to understand and per- form the duties of life, and growing evermore in the large- ness of his comprehension and the strength of his reason. This single consideration is enough to rouse the generous mind of youth to the utmost exertion, and to arm it against all discouragements that beset this, as well as other plans of life. After all, however, this great interest must look to those who acknowledge a higher principle of action than mere selfishness and worldly ambition. The young man who has 230 LIFE AND LETTERS. not yet learned to recognize in the obligations of duty his strongest motives to action, has not yet begun to live in earn- est. " How can I do the most good ?" is the only question which a rational, immortal being should desire or dare to consider in settling his plans of life. Let every youth who has followed me in this discussion put this deeply momentous question to himself, " How can I do the most good ? how most honor God, and most bless the world ?" Has he a good capacity and good health " a sound mind in a sound body ?" Is he imbued with a love of virtue and of humanity ? Unquestionably, then, he possesses talents which, with due culture, will qualify him for great usefulness. He may fit himself by patient industry to become an efficient co-worker with good men and with God in enterprises which promise the regeneration of the world. He has in embryo the elements of the truest greatness. His destiny, if he will have it so, will liken him to the benefactors of his race. Splendor of genius, high birth or position, wealth these are not necessary to great usefulness or true glory. They about as often bring evil as good on their possessor and on the world ; while a fair mind, and high principles, and a warm heart, with an earnest, unalterable purpose to devote all to a good cause, will never fail of securing to their possessor an honorable rank among his contemporaries. These staple es- sential conditions for honorable standing and usefulness are not rare among the children of Christian families. God has sown the seed of all the virtues which he requires in his peo- ple very bountifully, but the culture must be theirs. Let every young man stir up the gift that is in him. Let him invite and welcome the impulses of a pure, ennobling ambi- tion the ambition of being truly wise and of doing good. In the early youth of almost every one there occurs a crisis decisive of his character and destiny. Most persons pass through this critical period without giving heed to its instruct- ive omens, and follow whatever direction the chances of the CRITICAL PERIOD. 231 journey of life may give them. Happy are they who pause at the threshold and deliberately choose their course. This is the time for sober reflection and forethought for good counsel and earnest prayer. It is a time for the parent and the pastor to interfere with unsolicited advice, for none can guess how much of good or of evil may be suspended on the decisions of such a day. The youth who deliberately and conscientiously resolves to enter upon a course of liberal study, in order that he may qualify himself for a larger sphere of right action, and for higher thoughts and enjoyments, brings into his soul, by such a choice, a new and mighty element of moral and intellectual power. He has conceived a manly and ennobling purpose, which is likely to give new earnest- ness to his character and a richer coloring to his whole exist- ence. In proportion as his mind is pure and generous in its sentiments, will its devotion to its chosen career, at once so full of great toils and great hopes, become more and more en- tire and unalterable. He will feel, and he should feel, the constraining influence of a solemn vow, which there would be shame as well as guilt in violating. To fall back from such a resolve through timidity, or fickleness, or impatience of labor, or opposition, is unworthy the manly spirit in which it had its origin, and ominous of instability and miscarriage in com- mon pursuits. In this country any young man of good talents and good health, and a strong ivill, can get a liberal educa- tion, and it usually augurs deficiency in some of the best ele- ments of character to sink under discouragements which others have overcome by enterprise and perseverance. What great matter is it to work with the hands or teach a school in order to eke out scanty means of support ? What young man of promise, and deserving of confidence, may not obtain credit with some friend for such part of the expenses of his education as he is unable to meet by his own exertions ? Diligence and strict economy, for one or two years after his graduation, will enable him to refund the loan, and leave him 232 LIFE AND LETTERS. at liberty to enter unembarrassed upon the pursuits to which he has pledged his learning and his life. Not a few are interrupted in the career of education by ill health or by domestic calamities, for which the stoutest spirit can provide no antidote. Such deserve and receive from gen- erous hearts the deepest sympathy, but a feeling less com- patible with respect is sometimes provoked by a cowardly submission to untoward circumstances, which a little resolu- tion and resistance would be sufficient to control. On the contrary, there is nowhere to be seen a finer ex- hibition of high character than a noble-hearted, virtuous youth wrestling with Fortune, and triumphing over her unkindness. Nothing is able to divert him from the, great objects to which he has devoted his life, or to lower the aims of his earnest, indomitable spirit. However often he may be driven away from his chosen pursuits by the urgency of his wants, he re- turns again and again to the academic shades, unconquered and invincible, till he has satisfied his vow, and girded him- self to go forth before the world on a higher mission. For myself, I am free to confess that I feel a respect bordering on veneration for such young men ; and if religion mingle with and purify their motives, I know not what may be wanting in such examples to the truest Christian heroism. Such in- etances, and, thank God, they are not few, minister both en- couragement and reproof to the timid, the fickle, and the faith- less, who, for causes slight and vincible, are so often ready to decline or to abandon a career of so much honor and so much usefulness. Why should a man, and a young man, ever con- clude that he can not do what is practicable ? Why should he retreat at the sight of difficulties not insuperable ? Still more, how can a religious young man, through indolence, or levity, or impatience, or to consummate some premature, un- blest, matrimonial engagement, give up a course which he entered upon from enlightened convictions and for the love of Christ, and throw himself, half taught, upon the commit- SUGGESTION TO PASTORS. 233 nity or the Church, destitute of the much-needed qualifica- tions which Divine Providence had placed within his grasp ? I had intended to invoke the aid of my respected fathers and brethren in the ministry in the work of directing the at- tention of young men to the duties and the high privileges which I have endeavored to place before them. I can, how- ever, do no more at present than offer a respectful sugges- tion that both our traveling and local preachers might per- form an excellent service to the Church and its rising youth by exerting their influence, on all proper occasions, to increase the number of students in our academies, and yet more-, as more needing this special favor in our colleges. No work could be more truly pastoral and Christian in no other way could an enlightened minister accomplish so much with so little labor. In almost every neighborhood and congregation there are fine boys and promising young men who, with prop- er culture, would become blessings and ornaments to the com- munity and to the Church. It may yet never have occurred to them to devote themselves to the literary pursuits for which they possess the best advantages, pecuniary as well as intel- lectual and moral. All that is wanting in hundreds of such cases is a little seasonable advice and encouragement, which will come from the pastor with peculiar propriety and effect. There is hardly a circuit or station where a vigilant, enlight- ened man may not find some fit and hopeful candidate for an educational career, which, with God's blessing, may give to our good cause a skillful teacher or a faithful minister. Who- ever is instrumental in developing the elements of moral and intellectual power, latent in one ingenuous mind whoever gives to the Church one cultivated, faithful young man, fit to be an instrument in working out the good which she is called to accomplish, is, in the highest sense, a public bene- factor. He performs a good work before men. He insures to himself a good reward, in recollections adapted to cheer old age and even the bed of death, and in the blessings of 234 LIFE AND LETTERS. those who are ready to perish . Under God, he has raised up his own successor, who may prove a Fisk or a Ruter. Teachers in every department, from the Sunday-school to the noble seminaries, which do so much good and so much honor to our denomination, have it in their power to give a new impetus to collegiate education. The most promising boys ought to be encouraged to look forward to this higher course with the fullest appreciation of its advantages, and the large classes of promising youths who crowd our high schools ought to send up twice or thrice as many students as they now do to the university. I am happy to know that the able men who are at the head of these institutions are fully alive to the importance of this great interest, which is deeply indebted already to their zeal and co-operation. I should fail, however, to express my full sense of the extent of their influence over the destinies of education in our Church, if I did not refer to the controlling position which they occu- py in reference to this interest. Unquestionably, they can do more than any class of persons to elevate the standard of learning, and to correct the prevailing tendency of our young men to be satisfied with merely an academic course. Much may be done to diminish this great evil by addresses, by pri- vate conversation and personal influence. Judicious and timely advice may often be decisive of the destiny of a noble mind not yet made conscious of its own powers, and of the good destiny ready to be secured by the exertion of its ener- gies. The father of a promising son may only need the teach- er's testimony to the talents and proficiency of the pupil, in order to insure to him the larger advantages to which he as- pires, and which he is prepared to improve so well. A sin- gle letter or an earnest conversation may remove all obstacles out of the way, and introduce a fine intellect and a generous heart into a career of extensive usefulness and pure enjoy- ment. I can not close this discussion of a subject, which I deem of such vital importance, without offering an humble LETTERS FROM CONSTANTINOPLE. 235 prayer to the Father of lights that it may be made subserv- ient to the best interests of the Church. STEPHEN OLIN. Middletown, April, 1845. CXXIII. TO THE EDITOR OF THE CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE AND JOURNAL. The following letters from Constantinople have just reach- ed me. My reason for giving them to the public will be ob- vious to all who have noticed the protracted controversy be- tween Dr. Robinson and myself. It will be recollected that in my " Travels" I spoke of a broken arch, supposed to be the remains of an ancient bridge connecting the Temple with Mount Zion, as having been known to Mr. Catherwood, and, as I understood, to other travelers and residents. For this I was charged with plagiarism, and with doing great injustice to Dr. Robinson, who, in his Biblical Researches, the Biblio- theca Sacra, and elsewhere, claims to have been the discov- erer of this interesting monument, and especially to have been, so far as he knows or believes, the first to recognize in this fragment of an arch the remains of the bridge spoken of by Josephus.* * The pointing out and determination of the true character of the arch of the bridge which connected the Temple with Mount Zion, was considered one of the most important of Dr. Robinson's discoveries. The reviewer, in the North American for October, 1843, complains that Dr. Olin describes the same remains, and not only makes no ac- knowledgment of Dr. Robinson's discovery, but adds, " I could not learn that the most interesting and unquestionable of these remains the massive arch of the ancient bridge had been so much as men- tioned by any modern traveler, though its existence has long been well known to Europeans and other residents, as well as visitors." " The first part of this sentence," continues the reviewer, " is to us wholly inexplicable ; the remainder we know to be a mistake. We are assured, on good authority, that in Jerusalem the discovery is uniformly ascribed to Dr. Robinson, both by residents and travelers ; and we believe that, if his name was broadly inscribed on the front of 236 LIFE AND LETTERS. The reader will learn from a perusal of these documents all that I know of their history. Mr. Homes is a stranger to the ruin, it would not be more indelibly associated with it than it now is in the mind of the visitor. These remains, of course, had been fre- quently examined before ; but that, previously to Dr. Robinson's visit, they had ever been connected with the ancient bridge, is considerably more than Dr. Olin is authorized to affirm." " Dr. Olin's travels embody the more interesting results of Dr. Rob- inson's Researches. How did he obtain them"! is a question which intelligent readers will ask. He appears to have possessed few fa- cilities for making original investigations, was an invalid during his journey as well as subsequently, and was not particularly thorough in his examinations. We are compelled to believe that, on some im- portant points, he is indebted to an unacknowledged use of Dr. Rob- inson's discoveries, arguments, and authorities." A brief reply to this review was published by Dr. Olin in the North American Review for January, 1844. It contained a full and unquali- fied denial of the charge of plagiarism. With respect to Dr. Robinson's claims to the discovery of the true character of the arch of the bridge, he says, " I now declare that I never saw nor heard the name of Dr. Robin- son connected with this subject in Jerusalem or elsewhere until I read the ' Researches,' nearly two years after my visit. Having no reason to distrust my own information, I, of course, presumed Dr. Robinson was in error in regarding himself as the original discoverer. Mr. Cath- erwood, who is a professional architect, and the author of the plan of Jerusalem, always in my hand, in which he had laid down the Temple, Mount Zion, and the valley between them, across which the arch looks directly, could hardly have doubted or been mistaken with regard to its design. Mr. Catherwood has often told me since that my account is strictly true, and that he, as well as several other gentlemen with whom he conversed in Jerusalem, regarded and spoke of this monu- ment as the remains of an ancient bridge that connected the Jewish Temple with Mount Zion. My declaration that I could not learn that this monument had been mentioned by any modern traveler, appears under date of April 23d, 1840, and is strictly true. I should have re- ferred to Dr. Robinson's account, which I saw nearly two years after- ward, but for the discrepancy between it and mine, to which, for in- sufficient reasons it may be, but assuredly not from selfish ends, nor from any unfriendly feelings toward Dr. Robinson, I did not wish to attract attention. LETTERS FROM CONSTANTINOPLE. 237 me. With Mr. Hamlin I formed a brief and interesting ac- quaintance when his guest in Constantinople. They are well known in this country and the East as missionaries of the American Board, distinguished for intelligence and Christian virtues. It is due to these gentlemen, no less than to me, that their testimony should he given to the public. I would say distinctly that I have had no communication with Messrs. Hamlin and Homes ; their testimony was wholly unexpect- ed by me ; and I can not refrain from gratefully acknowledg- ing the good providence of God, which, without any agency of mine, has shed so clear a light on the charges which have been extensively propagated to my prejudice during the last eighteen months. STEPHEN OLIN. May 19th, 1845. " I will only add, with regard to the several topics selected by the reviewer for animadversion, that I have not knowingly derived either facts, arguments, or opinions from Dr. Robinson. What his views were on these points I had never an intimation, until I read the ' Re- searches' in 1842. I have not since referred to that able and learned work ; but I had not supposed that it laid claim to original discovery in connection with these topics, except in the case of the ancient arch. My companions in the Desert and Palestine, I think, would all certify that I worked hard and examined every thing for myself." The article from which the above extracts were taken called out a rejoinder on the part of Dr. Robinson, which appeared in the North American Review for July, 1844, and was also reprinted in the Bib- liotheca Sacra for November. It was only, however, to the single point of the bridge, which connected the Temple with Mount Zion, that Dr. Robinson personally made exception, with what propriety the test- imony of the Rev. Mr. Homes and Mr. Catherwood enables us t( judge. The letters written in the course of this controversy were published in the Commercial Advertiser, and Christian Advocate and Journal for 1844-'45. 238 LIFE AND LETTERS. CXXIV. TO THE REV. S. OLIN, D.D., PRESIDENT OF THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. Bebek, near Constantinople, March 14th, 1845. MY DEAR SIR, Owing to some mistake or oversight in the forwarding of our North American Reviews, I did not receive any of the numbers of 1844 till this week, and was therefore entirely unacquainted with your controversy with Dr. Robin- son in regard to discoveries in Jerusalem. I was not even aware of its existence. I read Dr. Robinson's note in the North American of July, 1 844, with profound surprise, being confident that I had heard Mr. Homes affirm that he inform- ed Dr. Robinson of the existence of that arch as a remnant of the bridge spoken of by Josephus. I remembered his re- marks with perfect distinctness, as we had some speculations in regard to the modus operandi of Dr. Robinson's mind in appropriating the discovery so entirely to himself. And the most charitable explanation we could give was, that he was so overjoyed at the discovery that he forgot that he did not make it. I immediately addressed a note, however, to Mr. Homes, which, with the reply, I forward to you. I sincerely regret that this important and decisive testimony comes so late, but it is never too late to establish the claims of truth and justice. It is inexplicable that in this controversy Dr. Robinson never addressed a line to that individual to whom he was indebted for his knowledge of the existence of the arch, while he has written to almost every other individual connected with the matter in debate. It is very singular, too, that he has made no acknowledgment of his indebtedness to Mr. Homes for such important and interesting information, while, in his " Re- searches," I observe he introduces his name in connection with more trivial matters. But I am content with having furnished you with the most decisive testimony, not only that the " arch" was known previous to Dr. Robinson's visit to Je- rusalem, but that it was known in its relation to the bridge LETTERS FROM CONSTANTINOPLE. 239 spoken of by Josephus, and that he received all the informa- tion from Mr. Homes which you or any other traveler could have obtained in Jerusalem two years afterward. Dr. Rob- inson should have been the first to call for Mr. Homes's test- imony ; but, as he has failed to do so, I hope he will excuse me for having volunteered to forward it. Very affectionately yours, C. HAMLIN. P.S. Should you wish to quote any of the above remarks, you are at perfect liberty to do so. Copy of a Note addressed to Mr. Homes by Mr. Hamlin. DEAR BKOTHER, You will easily recall, I presume, the remarks which you once made to me in regard to Dr. Robin- son's exclusive claims to the discovery of the site of the bridge connecting the Temple with Mount Zion. I understood you in that conversation to affirm, that you yourself informed Dr. Robinson of the existence of that arch, and of your regarding it as a remnant of the bridge spoken of by Josephus ; and that it was in consequence of this information given to him that Dr. Robinson visited the spot, and made his great dis- covery (?) of the bridge. Please to send me a note by the bearer of this, and state, definitely, did you, previous to meeting Dr. Robinson in Je- rusalem, regard the arch in question, not as the remnant of a bridge, but of the bridge spoken of by Josephus ? And as such did you mention it to Dr. Robinson ? The reason for making this request is, that I have just received the num- bers of the North American containing the controversy be- tween Dr. Olin and Dr. Robinson on the subject a contro- versy which, I imagine, your testimony may help to decide. My affection and esteem for a traduced and injured friend, whom I know to be one of the best and noblest of men, as well as my regard for truth and justice, impel me, with your permission, to make known your testimony to him. Yours, affectionately, C. HAMLIN. Rev. H. A. Homes. 240 LIFE AND LETTERS. - ; Reply of Mr. Homes to Mr. Hamliris Note. Constantinople, March 13th, 1845. DEAR BROTHER, Your request to me, to repeat in writ- ing what I happened to mention to you in conversation about the arch at Jerusalem, quite startled me ; for I would not have the appearance of mingling in the discoveries of a dis- tinguished scholar, as though I had any such share in any of them as to detract from the honors he so richly merits. The discovery of the bridge is a just claim of Dr. Robinson's, on the great principle laid down by Paley on another and most important topic connected with the scenes of Jerusa- lem namely, that "he only discovers who proves." And, therefore, whoever suggested the idea to him, as he was the one, after much archaeological research, to bring before the public the proofs of the arch being part of the bridge men- tioned by Josephus, he will probably always retain the honor, without militating against the just claims of others. However, in reference to the points in dispute between Dr. Robinson and Dr. Olin, your friend, my own distinct recollec- tions go to confirm some of the positions assumed by the lat- ter. What these points of discussion are I need not state ; but I will simply tell my story, and you will therein find a sufficient answer to your questions. In 1837, while residing several months at Jerusalem, I discovered one day, with surprise, in the obscure part of the city where it is situated, the remains of the arch, and fancied that it had never obtained, so far as I knew, the notice of any traveler. Either before I saw the arch, Mr. Whiting called my attention to the fact that there was once a bridge connecting the Temple with Mount Zion, or after my return to his house, on my mentioning the arch, he said that he and some English travelers, one of whom was Mr. Moore, regard- ed this as the bridge mentioned by Josephus, or perhaps we all three aided each other in the suggestion. However that LETTERS FROM CONSTANTINOPLE. 241 may be, the essential point here is, that during the whole of the year following I was dwelling much on this discovery in my own mind, as of a remarkable monument of ancient Jeru- salem. One day, either with Mr. Moore or Mr. Whiting, I went to re-examine the localities, to test the probability of this having been the point of connection of the Temple with Mount Zion. If Mr. Whiting should bring a negative testi- mony to the above, I see not how it could make me deny my own positive recollections of having from that time regarded this as the bridge. In the spring of 1838, at the time of a missionary council in Jerusalem, I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Robinson. We were all anxious to show Dr. Robinson all the noticeable places in Jerusalem which might possibly suggest to him facts regarding its ancient topography. One forenoon I ea- gerly told Dr. Robinson of the existence of this now famous arch, and, from his surprise and awakened interest, it was evident he had never heard of it before. And before he ivent to see it, I remarked to him on the probability that it was the bridge mentioned in history as going from the Temple to Mount Zion. It was agreed that I should go and show it to him that afternoon, but, unable to fulfill my promise, I remember the difficulty we experienced in finding any one of our party who was at leisure, and who knew the spot, to accompany him. Ever after I had much personal satisfaction in reflecting that I had been the instrument in introducing Dr. Robinson to a ruin of so much importance. There are few events of my life of which I have more dis- tinct recollections than of those recorded in the preceding two paragraphs, because of the vivid impression made from the first day of my seeing the arch. Those who are interested in the discussion will see in what points my testimony in- validates or confirms the positions of Dr. Robinson or Dr. Olin. TI, L 242 LIFE AND LETTERS. If you think these reminiscences will give any satisfaction to your friend, you are at perfect liberty to send them to him, for I have only recorded them for the sake of your request. Very cordially yours, H. A. HOMES. To Rev. C. Hamlin, Bebek. CXXV. Extract from a letter dated Bebek, April 2d, 1845, from the Rev. Cyrus Hamlin to the Rev. S. Olin : MY DEAR FRIEND, I forwarded to you by the post of March 17th some important testimony in regard to your con- troversy with Dr. Robinson ; but lest it should by some acci- dent fail of reaching you, I send you by this post duplicates. I ought, perhaps, to have remarked, in the accompanying note, that when Mr. Homes first mentioned to me the assist- ance which he had rendered to Dr. Robinson in Jerusalem, Dr. Robinson had not yet published his " Researches." After the publication of his work, Mr. Homes was, of course, a little surprised at the introduction of his name in connection with unimportant particulars, and its entire omission in connection with this arch, the discovery of which Mr. Homes regarded as the most important aid which Dr. Robinson received in Jerusalem. The note of Mr. Homes which I forwarded to you, and a duplicate copy of which is here inclosed, was written entirely from recollection. Since then Mr. Homes has shown me the journal of his residence in Syria, and under date of May, 1837, among a number of things noted as worthy of special examination, is this brief minute : " THE BRIDGE CROSSING PROM MOUNT ZION TO MOUNT MORIAH." The entry was made at the time when he first began to regard the arch as a remnant of that bridge, and that was nearly one year pre- vious to Dr. Robinson's visit to Jerusalem. He afterward revisited it repeatedly, sometimes in connection with travel- ers ; and when Dr. Robinson arrived in Jerusalem he brought LETTER FROM MR. GATHER WOOD. 243 it to his notice as a remnant of the bridge spoken of by Jose- phus. CXXVI. TO THE REV. S. OLIN, D.D. New York, May, 1845. MY DEAR. SIR, I have received your note on the subject of the remains of the ancient bridge in Jerusalem, and call- ing my attention to your reply to some strictures in the North American Review, in which you say that I had mentioned to you in conversation that I saw this monument during my visit to Jerusalem, and regarded it as the arch of an ancient bridge, as did other persons with whom I conversed on the subject. You ask me whether this statement corresponds with what I said to you on this subject. I answer that it does in all respects. Yours, faithfully, F. CATHER.WOOD. cxxvii. TO MR. . Middletown, May 27, 1845. You will hardly feel disappointed on learning that I have been let into the important secret which you have so recently revealed to your family. At least, you are likely very soon to be in the way of learning, that what a man's wife knows will probably be communicated, with due injunctions of se- crecy or of discretion in the using, to the faithful partner, not of her life only and her interests, but of nearly all things, small and great, that happen to pass through her head or to find a lodgment in her heart. At any rate, I hope better things of your chosen friend and of you, than to believe either that she will be so prudent a wife as to exclude you from the fullest participation in all that makes or mars her woe or weal, or that you will be a husband of such dignity as can not listen reverently to pretty much every thing that comes under the comprehensive genus of conjugal small-talk. So, then, without intending any such thing in the beginning of 244 LIFE AXD LKTTERS. this sentence, I have fairly been surprised into announcing a matrimonial maxim for your future use. I intended to congratulate you on the happy prospect which has opened before you, and to express my satisfaction at your engagement. I can not doubt that you have de- voted yourself to a worthy object. Your family, I see, are well pleased with your choice, and mother and sisters are full likely to exercise a watchful supervision over such a move- ment. It was a little odd that I did not become acquainted with one to be brought into so near a relation to us when I was introduced to her sister, at your father's. I liked the sis- ter very well. I doubt not that your friend is equally wor- thy of admiration, since you go the length of practically pro- nouncing her more so. I need not say to you that my best, most affectionate wishes, and my fervent prayers, will attend your entrance on this new and interesting relation. You are now, in a very important sense, to begin life anew. You are about to come under the influence of stronger mo- tives and higher responsibilities than are within the sphere of an unmarried man. It is a great thing to assume the re- sponsibility of taking care of another's welfare, another's hap- piness, another's soul ; and all of this, in a very high sense, you propose to do. Need I suggest to a thoughtful mind like yours, that, in addition to virtuous principles, and high pur- poses, and pure morals, which "I am sure you already possess, you will need the aid of religion in your new sphere ? Your entrance on married life will constitute an era in your his- tory, and a most favorable occasion for revising the past, and adopting all improvements that may be of use in the future. Let me beg of you to seek, at such a time, the helps and sup- ports to be had from above. Let religion enter into all your new plans of life. Set up an altar for prayer at once, and let all the pleasures of domestic life be hallowed by the rec- ognition of God your Savior. I am sure your new prospects will minister additional impulses to the labors and studies of DIVISION OF THE CHURCH. 245 your profession. It is, I think, just what you need in order to insure success. The first years of professional life are com- monly very trying to one's patience, and I think him fortu- nate who has the strongest motives to endure arid to labor. You will henceforth have a new and powerful incentive to follow resolutely the orderly and industrious habits with which you have begun your career, and to become a thor- ough learned lawyer, to which you no doubt aspire. Will you make my most respectful affectionate salutations to Miss ? Shall we not see you here ? and will she not, somehow, be of Margaret's party or of yours ? CXXVIII. TO THE EDITOR OF THE CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE AND JOURNAL. July 8th, 1845. Once only, during the year of distress and agitation which has elapsed since the adjournment of the General Confer- ence, have I ventured to obtrude my opinions in regard to the great controversy upon the readers of the Christian Ad- vocate and Journal. I have felt inclined to speak some- times almost impelled but have been deterred hitherto, less by any distrust in my own conclusions on the questions at issue, than from a despair of being heard, when so many warm passions were in active play, and so many wiser and better men had preoccupied the public ear. The session of the Louisville Convention has brought on a new crisis, in view of which I once more feel inclined to express my opin- ions. If they shall not fully coincide with yours, the result of reflection so much more mature, and of experience so much more ample, I have yet the fullest confidence that you will favor free discussion, and will readily, and even gladly, open your columns to the humblest son of the Church, of whose fidelity to its interests you may have no reason to entertain doubts. I would inquire, what is the present duty of the Church which has rent it in twain ? Without stopping to controvert the opinions of others, already expressed, I an- 246 LIFE AND LETTERS. nounce it as my most deliberate, prayerful conviction that this controversy should cease, now that it no longer holds out the most distant promise of good to either party. Nobody expects to prevent the disruption of our connectional ties. We are already divided, for evil or for good, which we must wait for the future to disclose. The Southern Conferences have proclaimed their independence, and set up a distinct organization. The Methodist Episcopal Church, South, lacks only a formal recognition by the constituents of the Louis- ville Convention, if, indeed, it lacks any thing, to the com- pleteness of its arrangements for separate, independent oper- ations. There is no power under Heaven competent to ar- rest this great movement ; and if there were, it would still be a question whether it is wise to struggle any longer against tendencies which, if they are not strictly irresistible, are plainly incompatible with kindly, fraternal co-operation. Time may possibly diminish or remove these obstacles to harmony ; but controversy, which has wholly failed to pro- vent this distressing crisis, can only aggravate its insuperable difficulties. Peace, now that union is confessedly out of the question, is the great want of the Church. History will not fail to do justice to both North and South, and its awards may, perhaps, come soon enough for either party ; but the time has already arrived when, for all prac- tical purposes, we have less to do with the past than with the present and the future. All the precious interests of the Church and of our common Christianity imperatively de- mand that our contentions shall now come to an end, and the public mind be allowed, as soon as possible, to revert to its natural state of repose. This, as it seems to me, is an indis- pensable prerequisite to the return of prosperity. God sel- dom or never pours forth his Spirit upon a people agitated with controversy and passion. These, continued too long, impress their character upon a people, and sadly pervert the general conscience and heart of the Church. We must, then, EVILS OF CONTROVERSY. 247 be content to wait, not merely for the healing influences of time and grace, but for the rising up of another generation, before the preaching of the word, and the other benignant ministries of the Gospel, can be restored to their wonted honor and efficiency. We may not even hope that much of the evil already done to souls by the pending bitter contest is not ir- retrievable. This fiery ordeal must needs have proved dan- gerous, and even ruinous, to unstable, ill-balanced minds, and to immature piety, when so many eminent, deeply-experienced ministers have been betrayed into indiscretions and extrava- gances so unworthy of their holy calling. Yet may we humbly rely on the Divine blessing, for bring- ing back at least a measure of the fraternal affection and sympathy which has been lost. If good men, of all parties, will practice and inculcate forbearance and charity if the conductors of the press, satisfied with having done their ut- most to prevent the evils that have come upon us, shall now devote the energies intrusted to their direction to the mitiga- tion of evils no longer avoidable if those who have suffered wrong will be content to endure it for Christ's sake, to im- pose silence on themselves, even under grievous provocation and injustice, waiting for time and God to mollify or expose their trad'ucers, and to justify their conduct and motives we may even hope that so brief a period as a single year, which has been able to work such miracles of mischief, may bring about the most benignant changes, and that the voice of kindly greeting and brotherly love may begin to be heard even along the doubtful line of demarkation toward which so many strained eyes are now directed with eager, anxious hopes and fears. After these halcyon days of peace shall have been invited to return, and not till then, shall we be able to form an intelligent, impartial judgment upon the events of the past year. We shall then have opportunity to observe the working of the new organization. All may then become satisfied on a point, now by many good men held to 248 LIFE AND LETTERS. be doubtful, whether the Southern organization will prove effective for accomplishing the great objects of a Christian Church whether it actually retains all of the essential ele- ments and characteristics of that form of Christianity called Methodism. Our brethren claim for it that it does retain them, and is intended to do so. It is but fair to give them an opportunity to test their plans and to prove their sincerity, before we condemn. They assure us that the change will be highly favorable to the unfortunate class whose anomalous relations to our institutions have been the source of all our difficulties. Time will make its revelations on this subject ; and if it shall show more numerous and more successful mis- sions among the slaves, and more decided and comprehensive efforts to extend to their condition all the alleviations which the mission of the Gospel has to proffer, then our bitter re- grets for the disruption of ties so dear and so sacred may pos- sibly be succeeded by mutual congratulations, and by thanks- givings to God, who can make the wrath of man to praise Him. We may not be so sanguine, perhaps, as to anticipate such good results from events so unpromising, but we are at least under all Christian obligation not to frustrate and pre- vent them. Who will not also anticipate from the progress of events, under the favoring auspices of grace and peace, more chari- table opinions than now prevail in regard to the uprightness of intention, as well as to the wisdom of those who have been chief actors in this season of distress and perplexity ? I con- fidently expect a speedy and great modification of the senti- ments which now prevail, so far, at least, as intelligent and pious men are concerned. I have always believed that both parties in the General Conference were shut up to their course by a necessity which had nearly the power of a law, and that, in the end, this must come to be the verdict of his- tory. Much of what has been done is deplorable enough, and can never be justified. Extenuation there may be, but noth- DESIRES FOR PEACE. 249 ing more of such revilings and personalities as all must admit have disgraced this controversy. Still, it should be remember- ed that the South, in justifying its own course, not unnatural- ly fell into a bitter conflict with the ecclesiastical body, under whose provisions it professed to act ; while the North, in jus- tifying the measures of the majority, almost unavoidably as- sumed a hostile attitude toward those who impugned it. Both parties were thus drawn away from the simple issue proposed in the General Conference resolutions. This has been the great error. It was perhaps an unavoidable error. Now that the issue provided for in that act has been reached whether wisely or unwisely is no longer a matter of any practical moment it seems to me to be our first duty to make the best of our altered circumstances, to sec how far we can still agree to sympathize with and love one another. It is of little public importance what course an humble individual may choose to adopt in the premises ; but it is of gome, at least, to my own sense of duty, to declare that I for one shall feel bound to further, as far as in me lies, the holy ends of peace and quietness. I think I voted right in the General Conference. I could not act otherwise on a similar occasion. But I certainly expected the result which has fol- lowed, and I do not complain of it ; however, I must regret some of the accompaniments of the movement. As to the important pecuniary interests that still remain to be adjusted between the North and South, I can not be- lieve that much difficulty will arise from them when ap- proached in the spirit of moderation and mutual forbearance, which I so earnestly invoke. Whatever of real piety shall remain in either division of the Church after the storm sub- sides will be engaged on the side of justice, and mere ques- tions of property and right are seldom so obscure as to give rise to invincible differences of opinion among honest, enlight- ened men. STEPHEN OLIN. L2 9 250 LIFE AND LETTERS. CXXIX. TO MR. J. R. OLIN. July 25th, 1845. I received your welcome letter yesterday. It contained information that interested me a good deal as, indeed, any thing connected with your plans and welfare always does. So, then, you are once more a keeper of sheep, like Jacob and the other patriarchs you are fairly in the wool-market. You sleep better or worse as the prices current in the corner of the newspaper announce that Saxon has risen or fallen a cent a pound, according to the scale for pelts or pulled wool. You are, and were always, a dear lover of kine, and of the lanig- erous race. So was our honored father before you ; and I can not regret that you are once more in the way of grati- fying this inborn taste. I must submit to endure the anxi- eties, long since forgotten, which I used to feel about tariffs, inspections, Smyrna wool, &c., so long as you were in the market. May all kindly constellations hover over Mr. Polk and Secretary Walker, averting their thoughts from all spec- ulations about free trade. May your wethers wax fat, and your ewes bring twins or triplets. May wool be dear and money plenty. I only hope that you will not involve your- self with land as well as stock. The precariousness of your health would, I think, render this unadvisable as well as dangerous. And, moreover, I stand ready to sell or rent you my farm in Poultney on the most reasonable terms. In the mean time, I hope you will not burden yourself with too many cares. Observe watchfully the influence of your situation upon your health, and you will be able to choose the course best adapted, on the whole, to your circum- stances You perceive by the papers that I am still an itinerant president. So I must be for some time to come, at least, if God permit. I hope for good success in my most difficult enterprise. I mean to be faithful in this work, to which I DISAPPOINTMENT. 251 am in a. sense devoted. Our prospects brighten. I think we must succeed CXXX. TO THE REV. DR. M'CLINTOCK. Rhinebeck, Aug. 21st, 1845. I am just now under the pressure of a very grievous disap- pointment, of which almost the only practicable alleviation is in your power. I left home on Friday after Commencement, visited my old friend, brother Landon, at Sag Harbour, preach- ed on Sunday at Sag Harbour, on Tuesday at the dedication of a church in Southampton, and on Wednesday left the rail- road at Farmingdale, at 3 P.M., and returned at five, having visited the camp-ground, dined, and preached in the interim. I arrived here a week since, expecting to proceed to Buf- falo, to the Genesee Conference, last Monday, but on that day, as ever since, I was confined to my bed with a severe cold, with such accompaniments of vertigo, fever, &c., as in my case usually magnify this slight visitation into a regular, but not dangerous illness. This was the last day of departure which would allow me to reach Buffalo in time for the Con- ference, so the expedition is given over. I suppose I shall be about as usual in two or three days, and I expect to remain here during this and next week. "Will not this protracted stay allow you to visit me here ? I need not say how much pleasure such a plan would afford me. Miss Garrettson heartily joins me in the invitation. I think you will enjoy a few days at this lovely place, with its noble view, and its spreading trees, its cheerfulness, and its peaceful calm. CXXXI. JOURNAL LETTERS TO MRS. OLIN. New York, October 28th, 1845. I arrived here yesterday about three in the afternoon, much refreshed and invigorated by the balmy gales, which were of the temperature of August rather than of October. My cour- age rose with my strength. The voyage to the South came 252 LIFE AND LETTERS. to seem the veriest trifle instead of a martyrdom, as I had re- garded it the night before. I got to New York very com- fortably, though weary enough I took passage yesterday, and am to sail to-morrow in the ship Celia for Savannah, a pretty good ship. No vessel goes to Charleston earlier than Monday. I may be a week on the way if the weather remain good You must allow from three to four weeks for my tour. I have much confidence that it will do me good. It occurred to me yesterday to think whether it is possible for me, so late in life, to become captain of a steamer a kind of life well adapted to the state and wants of my nerves. May our ever blessed Savior be very precious and very gracious to you. He has done glorious things for us, and He will not forsake us. It is my happiness to commit to Him the two interests dearer to me than all others my wife and the university. May He fill you with the Spirit, establish your soul in faith and love, and bring us together in peace and health. cxxxn. Ship Celia, Nov. 1st, 1845. I wrote to you on Wednesday that I was to embark for Savannah the next morning. As usual, another day was given to delay, and we went on board on Friday, 10 A.M. The weather was not very promising. A steam-boat took us from the wharf and dropped us near Governor's Island. Thence to the vicinity of Staten Island we succeeded in sail- ing in two hours, but the wind being dead ahead, the pros- pect for rain very threatening, we put about and anchored between Bedloe's Island and Jersey City. Here we dined, and, after some hesitation, I landed, and spent the night at your father's very pleasantly. I was again on board at nine this morning, the wind still ahead, and the prospect still very unfavorable for getting to sea. After various tacks and dem- JOURNAL LETTER. 253 onstrations, we are now (2 P.M.) about a mile and a half short of Fort Hamilton, still somewhat doubtful whether we get through the Narrows, and sure of being well tossed, and making no headway, if we do, as the wind, so far as I can judge, is directly in our faces. We may get off, however, and as the pilot is to carry this letter to town, you will un- derstand that we are already beyond the Hook when you re- ceive it. So much for the navigation, which so far has been decidedly tardy. The Celia, which performs as above, was built in other days, when more timber and less paint were used as an at- traction for passengers. I doubt not she is perfectly safe, and the captain says a fair sailer. This ought to be said in her favor, as nothing else can. She is very, very dirty, and badly furnished. She has no seats, but a couple of long chests upon deck, and not chairs enough to seat thirteen per- sons, our quota of passengers at the dinner-table. With plenty of substantial beef, fresh and salt, potatoes, cabbage, turnips, &c., we have, as yet, had no showing of delicacies on the table. One thing, however, is about as good as another when one is sea-sick, which, I suppose, we all have a good chance to be by to-morrow at furthest. You see there is hope in our situation, and a species of comfort which a mere landsman has no part in. It is, indeed, of little consequence whether an invalid eats or not at sea. It is, however, of no little importance that he has good company, agreeable, sociable people to look at and talk with when his stomach is a little composed, or, being hungry, he has little or nothing to eat. I have taken some observations such as circumstances have allowed, and can speak rather positively in regard to my co-voyageurs. There are three ladies in the cabin, and two female children. Of two of the ladies I despaired on sight, and wrote them down as utterly hopeless and impracticable. Yet one of them has large black eyes, and a very small husband, named Mr. Smith. 254 LIFE AND LETTERS. The other, I believe, is just now reading aloud in the cabin. It is painful the way she does hard words. English no less than French, of which there seems to be a sprinkling in her book. I must as yet speak with some caution of the third fair one, who wears a veil, is of tolerably graceful carriage, and abides the phrenological tests under which her compeers rather fail. I gave her something near me at dinner, and design to speak to her to-morrow, if I do not get sick or alter my mind. We have nine men with us not hopeful very, but well enough, I suppose, for the use they have for them- selves. Upon the whole, I never sailed with so select a party, and you must not fear that I shall overtalk, nor, I think, over- eat. I have also fifteen bottles of Congress Water on board, fruit of my forethought and experience. So you see every thing is favorable in its way not too much luxury, nor too good company a dirty ship, a short berth, five feet four about, a good prospect for a long voyage, which involves the idea of plenty of sea air, which is what I came for. Then comes the proverb about a bad beginning and a good ending. I am in good spirits, as you will sup- pose, though a little annoyed at having the stereotyped joke about Jonah slantingly directed to me. CXXXIII. At sea, Thursday, Nov. 6th, 1845 Presuming, from something you said on the subject, that you will attach especial value to what may be written at sea, I try to scribble a few lines. My mood is any thing but witty or playful ; but it is as affectionate as possible, which is, I know, far better in your estimation It was Saturday night before we had passed out by the light. It had already begun to rain, and we anchored some three or four miles further out a miserable plight to be in on a stormy night. It rained all day Sunday, and was excessively rough. I was shut up in my berth excessively sick, as were nearly A ROUGH SEA VARIETY OF CHARACTER. 255 all the passengers. The ensuing night was dismal. Our sails were reefed, and the ship tossed and rolled in a way that is wholly indescribable to one uninitiated. There was not the least danger, but great discomfort. Monday was rough, so was Tuesday, and our progress was slow. Yester- day was also pretty rough, though the weather has been fine since Monday. The wind was adverse, and it is dead ahead to-day. We should have been in Savannah by this time, but we lack some sixty miles of half-way, being off Carri- tuck Inlet, North Carolina. The shore is eight or ten miles off, and in plain sight, the border being white sand, and the background a dark, flat region. We are sailing to and fro over a perfectly smooth sea, waiting for a change of wind, which must pass round to the northward in order to enable us to double Cape Hatteras. Here for the present perhaps for some days we must wait, as all progress is impossible. We shall hardly see the end of our voyage this week, even with a fair wind, of which there are no signs. Every body is impatient. Even I partake slightly of the prevailing anx- iety to reach our port, though sailing is just what I want, and a long voyage preferable to a short one. The love of the land becomes a passion with people at sea, and in this, as in other strong prevalent sentiments, it is not easy to avoid a partici- pation, though your reason and interest may be opposed. Our captain is very obliging, and we do as well as pretty coarse accommodations will allow. It is no slight advantage to have so few passengers, as attendance is better, and you have room enough. The captain is pious, which keeps all right among the men, except that the first mate indulges in profanity now and then. As to company, a fastidious, scholarly man would fare but poorly ; but I get on very well. There is a good variety of character and attainment to learn, from and speculate on. The lady of whom I spoke with some hope has been ill, and has not shown her face until just now ; I believe she is going 256 LIFE AND LETTERS. on deck for the first time. I overrated her, taken, as 1 am wont, by good eyes and upper head. I was right with regard to the others. In the male line we do better. One man, with the look and air of a gentleman, but the language of a clown, tells his fortunes freely, which are that, beginning as a tin peddler, he became a merchant in Georgia, got rich, and now lives in Western New York in otium cum, dignitate. He had an ugly cough, and goes South to do it battle. He is an oracle in all matters of real life or business. A better than he is a man of Florida, whither he went from New York, a ship carpenter, a calling to which he rose from tanner's ap- prentice. Between scheming, marrying, and hard work, he has become rich, and lives on a domain of pine woods and hammocks of fifteen thousand acres. He was captain of a company of Rangers in the Florida war, and has seen more Indians than I should like to have done, unless, indeed, he stretches the real history a little, which I incline to think. He is the cleverest man on board, and I should like him bet- ter but for an ill-cured habit he has of semi-swearing. He has a way of abbreviating his oaths, so as to evade criticism, and, perhaps, to deceive his own conscience. I mean to re- prove him when I have a good opportunity. Then we have two young adventurous millwrights from Maine, who mean to get money by showing the Georgians some improved meth- od of grinding hominy. Mr. C has designs, I guess, of raising the wind by taking daguerreotypes, though he keeps rather dark for a man of his genius. Somewhere on the line between Rhode Island and Connecticut had the honor of his birth. I learn that he has above nine thousand loco-foco matches in his trunk, which emit a strong sulphurous odor, and cost only forty-five cents ! Mr. M , who is an old and very lean tall man, has the phthisic, and goes to Flori- da to breathe easier this winter. He believes that all things come to pass according to predestination, so that good people and bad are all one on the sore of merit. I avoid discuss- MOONLIGHT EVENINGS. 257 ing with him topics that might bring me foul of this snag. Another peculiarity, not now first seen in company with this creed, is a strong love of fire. Mr. M keeps the cahin heated all day up ahove fever heat, and hovers over the stove at that. He is my evil genius in this matter. Of Mr. Smith I only know he is very, very short, and has a wife and little daughter on board, who are ill. Mr. S says but little, as the Smiths are wont, and works in a foundery in Savannah. He wears a gray coat and profuse sandy whiskers. I like him very well. All told, you see we have a various and goodly company, not unfruitful of improvement and interest to a practical man. Over and above these, I dip into navi- gation and voyages with the captain and mates. cxxxiv. Ship Celia, Thursday, Nov. llth, 1845. I would have jotted down the incidents of our voyage dai- ly, but found it nearly impossible. I wrote last Thursday. From that time to this we have had head winds, with the exception of some twelve hours or more. Twice we have been driven out into the Gulf Stream, which is usually sixty miles from the land. In good weather, it is always thought best to keep nearer the shore to avoid this current. Twice we have been driven back, about or above a hundred miles. Yesterday at noon we were in the latitude of Charleston. To-day we are oft" Wilmington, North Carolina, with an un- favorable wind that will allow us to approach, but not to reach our port. "We may get on to-morrow or next week. The weather, meantime, is very mild. I stay on the deck all day without an overcoat, and till nine at night. The moon is a glorious one, and makes the evening peculiarly pleasant. As you look from the deck toward this luminary, your dazzled eye rests upon an immense glittering tract of water, in the form of an inverted pyramid, or, rather, obelisk its apex touching the side of the ship, and its broad base 258 LIFE AND LETTERS. stretching away to the horizon, just under the moon itself. It has the aspect of molten silver, and the eye is dazzled and confused by looking upon it. I pace the deck alone for hours after the other passengers retire. It is pleasant to think of Him who rules over these restless elements with a sway not perceived, yet quite absolute. I lift up audible prayers and thanksgivings to Him in these hours, which are thus made delightful, and the least solitary of the day. It is delightful to feel that God is with one as he is tossed upon the billows that He hears prayer above the voice of the tempest. We have really been in no danger, I suppose, and yet one feels at sea, more than on the land, that there is no help or safety in an arm of flesh, and we seem to draw nigh unto God with a peculiar facility and relish. You almost feel the shadow of His wing, and rejoice to be gathered near to Him now that the foundations of the earth are moved. I have enjoyed these brief seasons very much, and have felt great liberty in offering praises, prayers, and intercessions. I pray much for you for your health and happiness for your sanctification and usefulness. I feel a very special desire for your growth in grace, and a strong hope that this season of our separation may be memorable in your religious life that you may be- come established, rooted, and grounded in faith. I never felt more deeply that God has intrusted you to me, not merely for the promotion of my happiness, but for your spiritual good. . What can I say, my dearest, to induce you to a fuller devotion to our precious, crucified Savior ? Seek, I pray you, to be ivlwlly consecrated. Go to Him in the fullness of love and faith, and fully embrace His cross. Give all to Him, believing that He requires and will accept all. Cast about you during my absence to see if there may not be some way of doing good which we have not tried. I feel as if I were doing nothing. Think for me, and tell me honestly what I can improve in what I can do for Christ that I now omit what I should omit that I now do. Be a helpmeet for me STORM AT SEA. 259 in this, as, indeed, you are in every thing. Pray for me much ; pray also for the university. I seem shut up to do- ing good in that way or none. I must do my utmost to help and establish it, and that for Christ's sake. In my hours of weakness, I feel as if I must desert my post ; but I must la- bor as long as I can. I must take care of my health very resolutely for that object must be more attentive to exercise more self-denying. I must not shun any expense that is likely to promote my health Saturday was a rough, stormy day. Sunday was clear, but terribly boisterous. The sea was grand stupendous. The billows rolled in miniature mountains. They were capped with foam, and perpetually threatened to ingulf the ship, which bounded and rolled like a cockle-boat. When at their highest, the terrible blasts of wind seemed to slice off their heads, as if it had taken the form of an immense scythe, which fairly pared down the tempest-tossed sea to a smooth, horizontal level, to be lifted up the next second into another crop of towering billows, in the midst of which the ship trem- bled like an aspen. I could have wished you had been here to enjoy the sigkt, but for the less agreeable accompaniments. We were all dreadfully sick the sea dashed on the deck the cabin was turned up edgewise, and it was no easy thing to avoid rolling out of the berth by clinging. To-day the sea is as smooth as a mill-pond. At sea, Thursday, Nov. 13th, 1845. Since my last entry \ve have had fair weather, and, for the most part, adverse winds. After reaching the latitude of Charleston, which we did three days since, we were driven back, or, rather, forced to a tack which led us back to the latitude of Wilmington, North Carolina, in order not to be carried too far out to sea. This unpromising maneuver we have adopted three times. At this moment (10 A.M.) we are within a few miles of the Charleston light-house, which 260 LIFE AND LETTERS. we shall probably see in two or three hours. It is yet above seventy miles to Savannah. Our wind is very light, though fair ; and if it continue we may reach our port to-morrow. This is the fourteenth day of a voyage often made in four at this season of the year. With the exception of three or four days, the weather has been mild, and our passage tolerably agreeable. Better fare and more intelligent society are lux- uries not always to be commanded on shore ; while a return of sea-sickness, ever at hand, is quite able to make nick-nacks very indifferent things on the water. I confess to the weak- ness of having thought it desirable to have a clean, fresh breakfast this morning. I already have a little dread of our approaching interview with the but too familiar masses of corned beef, unsavory chickens, and dark, doubtful mush and mashed turnips. It is, however, pleasant to hope beyond such transient evils, and look forward to a future, in which these dinners will, in the way of contrast, impart excellent flavor to the worst we are likely to see on shore. It is a great matter that the passengers all try to be agreeable, and put on no airs only the captain of rangers sometimes drops out a puny oath by obvious inadvertence being quite an inter- esting character. The captain is a pious, though unpolished man, and is withal a careful, competent sailor. The crew is of the very meanest-picked men the refuse of several nations, though only eight in all. The order of service is this. There are two divisions or watches of four men and a mate, which are on duty alternately, in periods of four hours, day and night. In storms and heavy seas all must work. The captain sleeps at night only ; he rises and visits the deck every two or four hours. The worse the weather the more work ; and the men must be wet through, in or out of bed, during a rain. It is a dog's life ; and, after all that has been done to improve sailors, they are the most degraded of the species. Yet they certainly drink and swear less, and are otherwise less vicious BEAUTY OP SEA AND SKY. 261 than they used to be. Now and then we meet with a re- ligious sailor. The sky and the sea are full of beauty to compensate for the moral deformity on board. I think I never enjoyed these and the pure, refreshing atmosphere so much. Could I have you by my side to share and heighten these satisfactions, I could be well content to commune with them if the winds and waves compel for some time longer. I am not quite sure, however, that I could have trusted you alone on the deck at sunset last evening, or under the influence of the glorious moon that burnished the whole sky and sea last night. And then there was such a star by this pale lumin- ary, keeping its company and rejoicing in its quiet honors, I paced the deck till ten o'clock with more sensibility than I am wont to feel in gazing upon the sky. Many delightful recollections of the past came to fill up and hallow the scene. It just occurred to me to realize fully what 1 had casually thought of, I suppose, before that it is just twenty-five years this month since I coasted along these shores to Savannah before. I was young and inexperienced. I was not only irreligious, but skeptical. I did not fear God nor love the Savior, but was domineered over by as extrav- agant and purely worldly an ambition as ever blinded the soul and hardened the heart of a young man. I had just partially recovered from an alarming illness, the first of an unbroken series of chastisements with which I have hitherto been disciplined. I was not subdued, nor humbled, nor even sobered, but only chafed and roused. To any one who knew my thoughts and aspirations I should have seemed at a hope- less remove from religion. And yet, in the plans of infinite mercy, I was on my way to the cross. Four months later, I was serious, and even prayerful ; and in the beginning of the ensuing autumn was happily converted to God : a great crisis in my history, which was to give a new coloring to my life and to my eternity. Through how many scenes and 262 LIFE AND LETTERS. changes have I since passed. How much of anguish, and of physical and mental Buffering, has fallen to my lot. Yet I have been a happy, an increasingly happy man. All these things have manifestly worked together for my good. I have enjoyed religion. I have been mostly exempted from doubts and fears, though usually penetrated very deeply with a sense of unworthiness and unfruitfulness. Christ has kept and blessed me. He has enabled me to believe ; and now my prospects are increasingly delightful. He has even multiplied my worldly comforts has refitted and re-endowed my deso- lated home, and satisfied all my wishes for domestic comfort and conjugal happiness. Such were the trains of thought that occupied me on the deck last evening, and it is long since my recollections of the Divine goodness have been so vivid and affecting. I made some good resolutions, which I hope to keep. I had some delightful views of the excellency of the Gospel, which yet refresh me. I looked upon the vary- ing scenes of the past as constituting a whole, marked and illuminated by the Divine mercy. I doubted the propriety of recording all this for your eyes, and yet I find myself more and more disposed to make you participant of my religious thoughts as well as others. I think we are becoming more and more one in Christ Jesus ; and while I pray that our hearts may be knit together more and more in all things, I am spontaneously led to unbosom all my feelings. I have not been wont to do so with others. It may not be wise to do so at all. You will certainly ex- cuse me for this effort to hold communion with a mind now far away, but intimately near to mine in all the sympathies and interests that can bind immortal spirits together. Oh ! may our Savior cheer your heart in these days of loneliness with many delightful emotions. May He increase your faith greatly, and lead you into high and holy communion with Himself! ARRIVAL AT SAVANNAH. 263 cxxxv. Savannah, November 15th, 1845. . . . . \Ve got to the Tybee light, at the mouth of the Savannah, at daylight this morning, and got to town, eight- een miles, the last three or four by a sail-boat. Our voyage has been of sixteen days' duration, pleasant enough, for the most part, and I think decidedly advantageous to my health, but protracted to a terrible length by constantly adverse winds November 16th. I slept tolerably last night, which was better than. I ex- pected on coming from the sea. One misses the rocking of the waves, and, preposterously enough, sets about getting up a substitute for what is disagreeable enough in itself, by hard dreaming. The stationed preacher, Rev. Mr. K , called on me last night and invited me to stay at his house, and two or three gentlemen, members of our Church, have called and invited me to dinner, &c. I need not repeat to you that I feel as a brother and a co- religionist toward my old friends at the South. I still regard them as worthy members of our great Methodist family. I sympathize with, and can freely extend to them all acts of fraternal recognition. I know of no more laborious ministers than they are. The indiscreet, though by no means criminal course of Bishop Andrew, placed them and vis in a dilemma utterly inextricable. I am sorry that both parties can not regard it so, and find a common ground of charity to meet' upon, in love and mutual confidence, if not of union, which, indeed, I regard as impossible, after all that has passed. I have enjoyed advantages, I think, for attaining to sound opin- ions upon this subject, superior to those of many wiser and better men. This has led to some differences not at all agree- able to me, which, however, I trust may never become per- sonal. The Northern Methodists acted, in my opinion, both 264 LIFE AND LETTERS. legally and discreetly in the General Conference. They can only place themselves in the wrong by following out the pol- icy recommended so intemperately by some of the Western Conferences. If they shall respect the provisional resolutions, and in due time consent to an equitable distribution of the funds of the Church, then, I am confident, history will hold us justifiable. If, however, in our hot passions and over-much righteousness, we shall violate our own pledges, refuse to do pecuniary justice, and hold our Southern brethren schismat- ics, in order to have a coloring of justification for doing wrong, then I must dread the verdict of both God and men in the premises. The Northern Church will never do this great wrong intentionally. The leaders in it will probably act con- scientiously ; for any subject in which slavery is ever so re- motely involved is liable to set reason and right at defiance. This remark applies with exactness enough to both parties in such controversies. Without being conscious of one selfish or resentful feeling, I must say that this Church difficulty has done and does more than any thing else to sadden my happy life. I desire, above all things earthly, to see it ad- justed on right principles, that all parties may be left free to engage in their proper work. May God speedily send the reign of peace and righteousness on our agitated Zion ! . . cxxxvi. Charleston, November 24th, 1845. I wrote to you one week since from Savannah, from which place I came on Monday by the steamer, and reached this city on Tuesday. After a little repose from the long sea voyage, I concluded that it would be most desirable to return to New York by a packet, and I expect to sail on Monday, wind and weather permitting I stopped two days at the hotel, and was rather disposed to remain there ; but I feared that it might be ascribed to feelings which I do not possess if I resisted the urgent applications of my old friends JOURNAL LETTER. 265 to stay with them, so I came to the house of Dr. Capers, where I now am. Nothing could exceed the kindness of this very excellent and interesting family ; indeed, I have met with the utmost kindness and attention from all quarters. Yet my feelings are constantly saddened by reflections which I can not stave offin regard to the disruption of ancient ties I have suffered not a little on this point both here and in Savannah. It is a bitter cup at best. God alone can avert the great evils upon us and before us. Mrs. Ramsay, \vho is very intimate here, called to see me, and invited us to tea last evening. I am sorry to say I have seldom been so stupid as in the company of these accom- plished sisters. I had dined at Dr. Dickson's, and had had a very exciting interview with the son of an old Georgia friend, whom I found on the confines of eternity without re- ligion. I am little used to such scenes, common enough in a pastor's history. The reaction was upon me by night, and I am sure that you have the credit of having a husband as re- markable for stupidity as for stature. I mention this to pro- mote humility in you, as I care little for such accidents my- self. November 25th. So far I wrote last evening, when the twilight became too close for me. To-day I have the mortification of finding that the packet will not leave before Wednesday. I have become as impatient as I allow myself to become ; and I am fast coming to concur in an opinion often expressed in my hear- ing, that / ought to have brought you with me, short as my stay must be My life has been a checkered scene ; it can not last a great many years longer, and I must count as lost every day spent away from home if not devoted to some useful purpose. Mr. and Mrs. Martin stopped here on their way from Wilmington to Columbia. Both appear much improved in health.* Mrs. Wightman, with whom I * "My next meeting with Dr. Olin," writes Mrs. Martin, "was in TT. M 266 LIFE AND LETTERS. spent an evening, and upon whom I called again to-day, has very kindly placed her carriage at my disposal. I wish you could be present in the lovely family of Dr. Capers. He has eight children at home, besides two married, and one could hardly wish him fewer. Remember me to your father, moth- er, sisters, and brothers, in all of whom I have a growing in- clination to claim my portion. CXXXVII. TO THE REV. MR. MERRIAM. New York, Dec. 7th, 1845. I did not receive your letter of November 10th until the day before yesterday, having just returned from Savannah, where I have been for the improvement of my health, by a sea voyage. I feel very deeply the death of our much-re- spected brother and friend, of whose unexpected death you communicate the painful intelligence. This event, though wholly unexpected as to the time, I could but look forward to, as upon the whole, but too probable, considering Mr. Pal- mer's infirmities, and his special liabilities to bilious disease. This seemed to me the only objection to his removal west- ward, and so strong was my conviction that his exposure would be greater than that of ordinary emigrants, that I wish- Charleston, in November, 1845, at the house of William Gregg, Esq., whose guests we were. Our kind host invited one evening for tea Dr. Olin, Dr. Bachman, and Bishop Capers. The two former had been long desirous of a personal acquaintance. Imagine ' the feast of reason and flow of soul' of such an evening ! There was Gregg, with his fine practical good sense, Olin with his coruscations of ge- nius, Bachman with his charming versatility of information, and Ca- pers with his rich gems of thought. It was like one of Johnson's evenings with ' Davy,' and ' Goldy,' and ' Bozzy,' ' only more so ;' for there was the enlightened, fervent piety pervading, sanctifying all that delightful intercourse, all so comparatively unknown and unfelt at ' The Mitre.' " Olin, that was the last of thee ! Well may I say, I ne'er shall look upon thy like again ! " Columbia, September 1st, 1851." FAMILY AFFLICTION. 267 ed him rather to purchase a farm in Vermont. God, howev- er, had other purposes, and, in humble dependence upon his infinite wisdom and mercy, we may well spare ourselves all painful reflections upon the past, and look to the grounds of hope and satisfaction which we find in his exit. You do not refer to his state of mind in the last extremity, but I do not allow myself to doubt his full preparation for the future. I have long regarded him as a sincere and devout Christian, and I have good confidence in his safe transition to a better and happier world. I had much respect for his character. He was a kind and provident husband and father, and it is in that relation that I most deplore his loss, just at a time when his family so much need his care. And yet God will no doubt provide for the seed of the righteous. The widow, we know, is his peculiar care. I inclose a line to dear sister Palmer, not knowing her post-office. I am glad to hear that she bears her loss with Christian meekness, though I am sure that her sensitive nature must feel the shock very deeply. I am truly sorry to learn that you are no longer able to preach the Gospel. I can sympathize with you in this great privation, than which none can be more grievous. It is yet matter for congratulation that you have so much strength for ordinary pursuits. It is a great blessing to live for one's fam- ily after you can do little more for the Church. How happy should I be to visit you all in Illinois. This may be practi- cable hereafter, though just now I am too busy with impera- tive duties to think of indulging my fervent wishes in this respect. I must work while it is day. My health has fail- ed me during the present year, and I hardly dare to hope for permanent improvement. I only resolve to do what I can as long as I can, trusting in God for results. I send my love to dear sister Adams and the children. They are nearly grown by this time. May Heaven bless them, and make them great comforts to their parents. I am very truly your brother and friend, STEPHKN OL.IN. 268 LIFE AM) 1- K T T E R S. CXXXVIH. TO A GRADUATE OF 1845. New York, December 31st, 1845. MY DEAR FRIEND, I suppose you are acquainted with the cause of my long silence. I received your letter in October, and, I assure you, with much satisfaction. I had already been ill six weeks or more, commencing with September 5th. I was unable to perform any duty during the fall term, and attended prayers in the chapel but three times. About the 1st of November I sailed for Savannah, and returned to this city about the 7th of the present month, much better indeed, in about my usual health. A multitude of duties, which had accumulated during my illness, had to be attended to, and, according to an invariable rule of mine, took precedence of all claims not imposed upon me by my official engagements. I have given great promineace to an explanation, because I wish to hear from you again, and would not have you to sup- pose that I have neglected to acknowledge your letter. You were likely, also, to feel some interest in my health enough to tolerate this paragraph. I highly approve of your reasons for preferring to engage in teaching, at least for the present ; and I trust I may have opportunities to aid you in obtaining a satisfactory situation. It would give me great pleasure to do so, whenever I may be able. I should, perhaps, feel much less of difficulty with your peculiar religious notions than you imagine. I habitually extend a very large charity to opinions not precisely like my own, and I assure you that increasing years and ampler op- portunities to observe have no tendency to chill this feeling. I have been fortunate in becoming acquainted with excellent men, belonging to religious denominations not accredited for the soundest opinions ; and I am unable, perhaps constitu- tionally so, to reject, on the score of a rather unsatisfactory creed, piety that commends itself in the deportment and tem- per. In the case of a young man like yourself, there is yet SPECULATIVE DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 269 stronger reason for both hope and charity. Every thinking young man is likely to pass through a probation of many doubts and speculations before he reaches the high vantage- ground of a settled, sustaining faith. So long as the morals are pure, and a love of truth and a deep reverence for God maintain their ascendency over the heart, I can not feel that there is any very imminent danger. Whatever errors of sen- timent you may have had the misfortune to embrace and of these I can not pretend to be well informed I have always supposed that you had these safeguards, and therefore have felt less solicitude about the ultimate issue of your specula- tions. Allow me to add, that I have thought your chief want to be one which would be satisfied by personal consecration to God. I think your speculative difficulties will mostly dis- appear when you shall have reached that point in your relig- ious history. Without knowing what may be your peculiar faith in regard to the divinity of Christ, for instance, I sup- pose that a deep conviction of sinfulness and of utter help- lessness would place you in a position highly favorable to the reception of such views on this subject as I esteem orthodox. Some progress in Christian experience can hardly fail of sug- gesting wants not easily satisfied by inadequate views of the Redeemer's offices and agency. The renewed soul speedily comes to feel the power of what are called high views on these points, and nothing is so calculated to awaken and sus- tain its faith and its gratitude as the contemplation of a Sav- ior clothed with the functions and attributes which we are wont to ascribe to him. I do not mention these things in a controversial way, which seldom does any good, but as my justification for taking far more encouraging views of your religious position than you may have imagined. I have not thought you confirmed in any opinions incompatible with a saving piety. I know of nothing to interfere with your use- fulness in any situation among us, and I will gladly aid you in your wishes and objects, when it may be in my power to 270 LIFE AND LETTERS. do so. Unquestionably, it might be indiscreet for you, if, for instance, in a Methodist institution, to promulgate sentiments and views objectionable to that denomination ; nor, until you had embraced such opinions fully, would you be called on to publish them ; and when you had, you would be at liberty to adopt a creed and a position in accordance therewith. I earnestly hope and pray that your doubts and speculations may result in your embracing heartily that form of Christi- anity which may prove most favorable to elevated piety. The little distaste you may have for Methodism in some of its manifestations should not, and, I am sure, will not have any permanent influence upon a mind so philosophical as yours. I am glad to see a good article of yours in the Methodist Quarterly Review. It is favorably received, and I hope you will write again. Give, I would suggest, a fuller expression of your own views. Here is a field open in which you may do good, despite your "chaotic faith." Occupy this, and oth- ers will open. May God be your guide to a proper field of action, to a sound, saving faith, and to all happiness here and hereafter. CXXX1X. TO MRS. OLIN. Boston, Wednesday, January 7th, 1846. This, the first morning of my visit in this enchanted city, opens with a northeast storm. It snowed in the night ; it rains since the dawn of day. Darkness lasted till seven o'clock. I am, of course, shut in, having a too lively recollec- tion of my adventure last winter to invite the fate to which I was then doomed, or doomed myself, under circumstances so precisely like the present, that I am not a little startled at them I was at the South Ferry yesterday morning half an hour before the time. Our passage to Greenport was nearly at the rate of thirty miles an hour, diversified only by a little sleep, .which, indeed, helped me to dispose of several hours of the GLIMPSE OF EARTHLY SORROW. 271 tedious day. We crossed the Sound to the Thames, and took the road at Allen's Point, some six miles below Norwich, the ice preventing our nearer approach to that city. Near the termination of our ride on the island, a man or boy threw a stone through the window into the car, and ran away off from the bank. The broken glass flew across the car into my face, but fortunately did no harm. I presume this is a fruit of the grudge against the rail-road intrusion into this secluded re- gion. On coining to Allen's Point, I saw standing among the waiting crowd the Rev. Mr. B , who was once at our house a short, stout, primitive man. I accosted him before he saw me. His eyes filled with tears as he replied to my inquiry, " I am well, but in affliction. My children are all dead, and now my only grandchild has died of the croup. We" pointing to his wife and son-in-law, to whom he intro- duced me " are going to New London with the corpse, to bury it there." All then wept. I did not, but realized the uncertainty of earthly good. What sorrow was there ! May God bless the sufferers ! May He give me a heart to sympa- thize more deeply with all the forms of human woe ! I often fear that I arn greatly deficient in this, and yet I am no stran- ger to sorrow myself. It would be good for me to visit more sick-rooms, more death-beds good, I mean, for the soul, though my nerves might complain. The captain of the boat was very polite, having heard me preach on Sunday, in John Street, of which church his wife is a member. 1 rode on and nodded on to Boston, which we reached, I think, before seven o'clock My narrative has now reached the present moment (twenty minutes short of eleven o'clock). It rains dismally. Mr. S has gone to his office ; his wife to the nursery. The children are scattered. E is studying the seventh book of Virgil here in the dining-room, where I write by a bright coal-fire. I have not many bright thoughts, as you see. I wish you were here ; it would brighten our view, despite the outdoor manifestations. 272 LIFE AND LETTERS. You never looked forward to standing on the pillory or to a surgical operation, as things to be gone through by you the next i'air day, so I am at a loss how I may transfer to your mind some vivid idea of the bright anticipations which my duties here just now awaken. Difficulties grow small, how- ever, as we fight with them, and I may come to love begging better in the act than in the distance. This is my cross ; I must not shun it. Crowns are won through this agency. " Hoc signo vince." CXL. TO MR. J. R. OLIN. Middletown, March 1st, 1846. Until I received your last letter, I think I had been under the impression that you were indebted to us. My correspond- ence, however, was much deranged by my long season of in- disposition. I have been an invalid mostly, ever since last August. My sea voyage in November helped me decided- ly, but I preached half a dozen times after my return to New York, and became ill again. For the last month I have been on the recovery, and really feel as well as usual, and as vig- orous, though I have not the same confidence to attempt any thing. Sunday I went to church, which is the second time in this place since August. I made a long exhortation after- sacrament, and I spoke more than an hour in a college meet- ing last Thursday, it being the annual concert of prayer for literary institutions. I have reason to believe that my ex- tempore observations on the way of coming to Christ were made a blessing. Several of our students profess to have found peace while I was speaking. Twenty of them have become professed converts within the last ten days, and more are inquiring the way. Nearly fifty converts are also num- bered in our town congregation. It is truly a wonderful time. About three fourths of our students profess religion, and 1 never saw a more hopeful company of young men. I think there are many preachers of righteousness among them, from whom the world will hear by-and-by. REASONS FOR LEAVING HOME. 273 I feel a lively sympathy with my brother's protracted af- fliction, but I have cause to regard it as his allotment, and I rejoice to know that he receives it as from God. This makes any thing not only very tolerable, but a blessing. I wish I could say when I hope to be able to come and see you. You know how ardently I desire this. I had nearly matured a plan last summer for calling on you for a brief period. I was invited to open the splendid Wesleyan Chapel in Mont- real, but the time fixed on would not allow me to leave home. Now I think I may not improbably be at the Troy Conference, but it is uncertain. If I go to Keesville, how- ever, you will be on the way. I have been urged from va- rious sources to go to the London Convention, and on all ac- counts but the inconvenience of so long an absence from this country should rejoice to go. I probably shall not think it right to leave my duties here and at the Conferences. The plan of endowment is not yet completed, and I can not help feeling that this is, by eminence, my proper work, perhaps my last and only work, though I see not why I may not con- tinue to halt along, as I have long done, for some years to come. I had never a more fervent desire to be useful. Be this as Christ will. His servant I am, to do or suffer His will, or to go hence into His glorious presence. CXLI. TO MR. .1. R. OLIN. Boston, May 31st, 1846. I am to sail for Liverpool to-morrow, accompanied by my wife. This measure has become indispensable on account of my health, which has been precarious, and for the most part decidedly bad for the last nine months. What the voyage may do for me I know not, but hope for the best. I go abroad for my health alone, though commissioned from both the New England and the New York Conferences to attend the World's Convention in London. In the objects of this Convention I sympathize daeply, and would gladly cross the Atlantic to M 2 274 LIFE AND LETTERS. promote them ; but I could not leave the university in obedi- ence to any call except that of stern necessity. Such a call has reached me in the declining state of my health, and I obey it not without a strong reluctance. I could wish to re- main at my post, would God so permit ; yet I will not un- willingly follow the leadings of His providence CXLII. TO THE REV. DR. M'CLINTOCK. New York, May 27th, 1846. Yours of the 22d came to hand yesterday. I can make no adequate reply. I have not strength. I have not time, but must not go to sea without writing you a line. Crossing the ocean is nowadays a small matter, and yet a thoughtful man would arrange his affairs and take leave of his friends before entering upon it. I feel only as I should at taking a journey into the interior, only a little more depressed at being longer from home, and a little less animated with the prospect of seeing friends, mine being mostly on this side of the Atlan- tic. If one must travel, it is desirable to have more stirring anticipations than belong to an invalid already worn out with sight-seeing. Yet I think it my ditty to go. I must try to prolong my life, and to rally for more work, if God permit. So I go. My wife, however, has her powers of enjoyment in full play, and I may enjoy anew through her. I have much interest in the Union Convention, but could not leave home for that. I am very glad to learn that Messrs. E-mory and Caldwell are to be there. I have for them the highest pos- sible regard, and want more opportunities to know them bet- ter. You know, I believe, that both the New York and the New England Conferences have elected me a delegate. I am to go to-night to Middletown, to return to-morrow. On Saturday we go to Boston, and to sea on Monday. May God prosper us, and make this voyage promotive of our use- fulness and holiness. You, and I hope many, will often pray r or us. THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 275 CHAPTER VIII. THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE TWO MONTHS ON THE CONTINENT. IN the autumn of 1845, the earnest desire of many Christian hearts in Great Britain, for a comprehensive union and fellowship among the people of (rod, found expression in a Conference held at Liverpool. Public sympathy had been awakened in this movement by the publication of a volume on Christian Union, written at the suggestion of John Henderson, Esq., of Park, by ight ministers of various churches, and by some forci- ble articles by the Rev. John Angell James ; and when Christian brethren came together at the memorable meeting in Liverpool, men who had been enrolled under different banners in the Church militant recognized a mutual and powerful attraction as fellow-soldiers in the army of the great Captain of their salvation. "Love was the key-note of this meeting," which was blessed with many tokens of the Divine approval. " A holy burst of wonder, joy, and gratitude followed the an- nouncement that the basis of union first by fifty in committee, and then by two hundred in Conference was adopted unanimously !"* This doctrinal basis, to be approved by parties forming the Alliance, was in- closed in the invitations to Christians throughout the world to assemble in London on the 19th of August, 1846, for the purpose of uniting in an effort to bind to- * Rev. J. A. James- 276 LIFE AND LETTERS. gather " the safeguards of truth with the cement of love." This invitation met with a most cordial response in America. In Dr. Olin's words, " A wonderful work of preparation had been going on in the hearts of the people, so that when the announcement was made that such an enterprise was on foot in the fatherland, they were prepared to co-operate in the work ; and the mo- ment the banner was lifted up with ' charity' written upon it, as it floated to and fro in the light of heaven, good men came up and arranged themselves under it in multitudes." Delegates appointed by a number of ecclesiastical bodies, and representatives from nearly all the evangelical denominations in America, made ready to cross the Atlantic in May or June, to be pres- ent at this high convocation. Dr. Olin was one of this number, being invited by the New York and New England Conferences to represent nearly four hundred ministers in the great assembly in London. He had felt ^ a throb of delight never before experienced when he heard of this attempt to develop Christian union, even if it should fail. For several years he had con- sidered himself a little in advance of some of his breth- ren in the matter of Christian charity. He remem- bered well the hour when, walking solitarily upon the banks of the Nile, he lifted up his voice, when none but God heard him, and offered up his sectarian bigotry, and vowed that he would never know a difference be- tween Christians because they were not of the same opinion." Such were his views, subsequently ex- pressed on the floor of the Conference. Fine weather, favoring gales, and agreeable society VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. 277 made the voyage to England an exceedingly delightful one, and Dr. Olin spent the whole day on the deck, which he paced for hours with a feeling of elasticity and health seldom known on shore. A glorious vision of icebergs, through which the ship made its way as through a street of majestic palaces, penetrated all on board with feelings of wonder and awe. Sir Charles Lyell, who was returning from his second visit to the United States, was all excitement, as he never before had enjoyed so near a view of these stately visitants from the Frozen Zone, and he gave a little knot of eager listeners the results of his scientific investiga- tions into the laws of their formation and progress. With this accomplished traveler, Dr. Olin walked and talked for hours on the varied phases of social, political, and religious life in the United States, as they had been noted by the eyes of these shrewd and watchful ob- servers. The passengers of the Britannia landed at Liverpool early on the morning of Sunday, the 14th of June, and Dr. Olin went at 6 P.M. to Brunswick Chapel, where he had last been present at the Centenary Conference, and heard a sermon from the Rev. Mr. Osborn on the Intercession of Christ, which, he said, was truly "Wes- leyan in its character simple, clear, direct, and scrip- tural. In the rapid rail- way journey from Liverpool to Lon- don, perhaps the point of greatest attraction was the Rugby Station, where, during the brief pause, Dr. Olin looked out most earnestly upon the quiet fields and lofty elms, in sight of which Dr. Arnold spent fourteen years of usefulness and holy activity. No picturesque or ro- 278 LIFE AND LETTERS. mantic charm there riveted the eye, but the mighty human interest made the very name electrical. It called up thoughts of the manly energy with which this "prince of schoolmasters" breasted the tide of life of his power in moulding the chaotic elements of the boy-nature and of the summons that, in the midst of his " unhasting, unresting diligence," called him away from his broad plans and prospects, from the "al- most awful happiness" of his unbroken domestic circle to the serene activities of Heaven. From London Dr. Olin wrote to Professor Smith a letter, dated CXLIII. June 16th, 1846. I have only a few minutes to inform you of our safe arrival in this city. We had a passage of twelve days one of the shortest, and as nearly exempt from all the manifold disagree- ables of sea- faring life as a voyage across the Atlantic can be. We had fine weather, fair wind, very, agreeable, intelligent company, and as good fare as we needed better would real- ly have been worse. I lost only one meal from sea-sickness. Mrs. Olin was on the invalid list about tAvo days, all told. She is now in perfect health, and as eager to see sights as is compatible with absolute sanity. She must attach herself to such chance patronage as may offer, as I have but little nerve for this annoying business. She is now out on a visit to St. Paul's Cathedral. We may leave day after to-morrow for Paris, having de- termined to spend the residue of this and the next month on the Continent. I have been to see Mr. M'Lean to-day, to arrange the passports a vexation which, thank God, is un- known in our country. I also called on Dr. Alder, who in- quired after my colleagues with special interest. I ought to PARIS. 279 inform you that we got to Liverpool on Saturday night. Having spent the Sabbath there, we came to London on. Monday (yesterday), so that this is our first day of repose. I find that I need it much. The transition from sea to the land is always a crisis with me, requiring more care than, with the excitements usual at such times, I found it easy to exercise I think I may conclude that I am bet- ter, perhaps I should say decidedly better, for my voyage. While at sea, I was quite renewed in strength. I strongly hope that I may come home in improved health, fitted to do at least a little in our common vocation. Yet in this and in all things I am trying to be ready to say, " Thy will be done." I mean to give up the correspondence to Mrs. Olin. This is the only line I venture to write at present. I beg you to give our love to the beloved circle with which our vocation unites us so intimately. I hope you will not think me de- scending from my proper official dignity when I request you to assure the students of my affectionate remembrance of them. With the exception of a few personal, familiar friends, there are no other persons in the world to whom I could with such sincerity repeat such assurances. To Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Childs, and especially to Sophia, who I trust is better, and to the whole family, I beg to be remembered. I hope to hear from you as early as practicable, and am truly and affection- ately your friend and fellow-laborer, STEPHEN OLIN. Notwithstanding his protest against sight-seeing, Dr. Olin spent three weeks visiting with his wife the gar- dens, churches, and galleries of .Paris, through which he proved an admirable guide, familiar as he was with all objects worthy of attention. Every Sunday they attended the humble "Wesleyan Chapel, in the Rue de la Concorde (almost beneath the shadow of the gorgeous Madeleine), where his friend, the Rev. Mr. Toase, min- 280 LIFE AND LETTERS. istered to a congregation composed principally of En- glish and Americans. In this chapel Dr. Olin preached on Sunday morning with his usual impassioned earnest- ness, and doubtless with a feeling of devout gratitude to his heavenly Father for the ability vouchsafed him to sound one clear ringing note of warning and invita- tion in that brilliant city, where he had spent so many months of languor and inaction. The following letter, describing a terrible accident which delayed his journey to Belgium, was written to the senior class of the Wesleyan University, with the hope that it would reach them before they separated at Commencement. How fervent was the thanksgiv- ing he poured forth, when, upon his arrival at the hotel at Douay, he called upon his friends to join him in thanking Grod for preserving them from so fearful a death, and for holding their souls in life that they might praise Him. CXLIV. TO THE STUDENTS OF THE WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY. Ghent, July 13th, 1846. MY DEAR FRIENDS, We have just had a signal escape from imminent danger, and been witnesses of a dreadful scene. We left Paris on the 7th instant for this place, hav- ing delayed a day or two in order to accompany our friends, Mr. and Mrs. John Harper, and their party. The first night we passed in Amiens, in order to examine some objects of in- terest. There was especially its celebrated cathedral, which is, I think, the finest specimen of Gothic architecture I have any where seen. The next morning (Wednesday, the 8th) we took passage by the new rail-road for Ghent, and at three o'clock P.M. were still in the midst of the interminable plains of Artois and French Flanders, now covered with luxuriant wheat, RAIL-WAY ACCIDENT. 281 just ripe for the harvest. At precisely five minutes past three the train reached an embankment about thirty feet high, over which it was to cross a valley. It was formed of sand the foundation was a bog, in which large ponds had been made by digging peat for fuel so that on either side of our aerial path the water was ten or fifteen feet in depth. The weight of the train, which consisted of twenty-five cars, drawn by two powerful engines, or perhaps its rapid motion, or both together, caused the sand to yield. One of the iron rails broke ; the chain which attached the engines to their cortege was parted, and then nearly or quite one half of the train of carriages was precipitated down the embankment. Our carriage was near the middle a little further back. I think. We felt the shock, and in the same breath perceived ourselves thrown to the lower side of the vehicle, of which the floor was now almost perpendicular. It pleased God that our descent should be arrested on the slope of the embank- ment. We succeeded in opening the door, and reached the road unhurt. Here we had opportunity to observe the char- acter and extent of this calamity. One hundred and fifty persons, men, women, and children, thronged the way, all deeply excited mostly pale and trembling with terror, and not a few stunned or bleeding with their wounds. While all were breathless with anxiety to know the nature and extent of the calamity, and yet afraid to inquire or examine, a man was brought up the bank, covered'with blood, already dead. They laid him down by us. A priest, who was of our com- pany, approached to tender his offices. Another man was the next moment laid by his side, terribly bruised and dis- figured his clothes being mostly torn off. For two or three minutes his bosom heaved, but he soon expired. The people covered their faces with a cloak. A third was brought up the dike, groaning and crying out aloud and piteously. I thought him evidently dying, and he called upon death to come and relieve him ; but his injury was less than we had 282 LIFE AND LETTERS. supposed, and I heard two days after that he was doing well, though several of his ribs were broken, besides other wounds. I believe this man was aid-de-camp to General Oudinot, of the French army, who was also present, but escaped unhurt. My attention was absorbed by the dreadful spectacle so near me. I hoped that I had seen the worst of the scene, when I perceived a flat-boat or raft passing from the wreck to the shore with several dead bodies which had been taken out of the water. Nine of these unfortunates were stretched side by side upon the grass when I left the ground. It is prob- able that from thirty to forty persons perished. Of one com- pany of thirteen from Paris, only two could be found. Of about thirty persons in one carriage, I heard that only eleven escaped. Many of the bodies were not, at the end of two days, recovered. I conversed with a gentleman on Friday morning who was just from the scene, which he described as still painfully affecting. One of the carriages, with its freight of living souls, was submerged ; the next was thrown upon it in such a way as to force it into the bog below, and with all their exertions they had not yet been able to extricate it, though they had discovered the legs of several victims pro- truding out of the mud. One man lost a wife and two chil- dren, and was himself killed the next day by coming in col- lision with a post near the Belgian line. One lady was saved by being drawn out of the submerged carriage by the hair. Two children were taken out of the water by an Englishman, who was himself struggling for his life in the same element. After enumerating so many particulars of such a tragedy, it is hardly allowable to speak of personal inconveniences. One absorbing emotion, I am sure, was that of a grateful exultation at God's so signal interposition in our behalf. Death never appears so dreadful as it does when its coming is so sudden and unexpected when it falls, like a thunder- bolt out of a clear sky, upon the young, the busy, the joyous, the thoughtless. I thought how feeble and how frail is man ! R A 1 L - H r A Y A C C I D K i\ T. 283 How contemptible does his might appear when it comes into conflict with such elements and agents as now made us their sport ! Life never seemed to me half so desirable as it did at the moment I looked upon the series of dead and dying men, whom a few moments had arrayed on either side of us. I could not help following these unfortunates from the green, gay world, now hidden from their eyes, to the world of retri- bution, into which they had in a single moment been trans- planted. Could I even hope they had put their trust in Christ ? Without Christ, where were they ? Who could fol- low out this train of thought in regard to undying souls while the crushed tenement was yet warm and quivering ? I could scarcely refrain from praying for the dead. I think the cry, " God, have mercy upon them !" was extorted from me. After two or three hours, a small train, which had been sent for to Douay, arrived, and our party, with many more, proceeded to Douay, some eight or ten miles distant. There we were delayed two days in making such arrangements for the prosecution of our journey as our circumstances required. The trunks, which contained our wearing apparel and other requisites for traveling, were quite demolished. I saw the lid and some other fragments of mine, and was so fortunate as to recover the most of my wardrobe, which was strewed amid the wreck of the carriages. What was yet more sur- prising, I at length succeeded in finding a purse of gold, near- ly all the money I had with me, which had escaped from the trunk, and was buried in the sand. A peasant, of whom a crowd was soon gathered, came to assist me in my labors, with the apparent design of profiting by our disaster. I drove him away with some difficulty, and with the ai'd of an offi- cer. Mrs. Olin's baggage fared worse than mine. Not a fragment of her trunk was found, though her things were mostly recovered and brought to Douay that evening, or the next day, with a huge mass of things gathered up on the sand and out of the water. Whatever we had, not contained 284 LIFE AND LETTERS. in the trunks, was submerged in the morass or recovered in a most hopeless state. We obtained new trunks in Douay, and were ready to proceed on our journey after a stop of two days. Mr. Harper's baggage also suffered very much. He was detained three days, having arrived here last night. Yesterday Mrs. Olin and myself made an excursion to Bruges, an antiquated, forlorn city, only worth seeing on ac- count of its historical associations, its curious, quaint archi- tecture, and a few remarkable pictures of the early Flemish school. We returned last evening, and to-day had the priv- ilege of listening to a useful sermon on the very subject of our late danger and deliverance, from an English clergyman, who preaches to a very small congregation of his countrymen here, and is the only Protestant minister in this great city. There may have been forty persons present, of whom full one half were from America. I was happy to recognize in this small assembly the Rev. Drs. De Witt, Skinner, and Patton, of New York. We expect to proceed to-morrow toward the Rhine, stopping a day or two by the way to see Brussels and Antwerp. I am sure my dear friends in the university will feel some interest in the details I have given, from their regard to us personally, and yet I had another and less obvious motive in directing this letter to them. They were present to my thoughts almost immediately after our escape from peril ; and while we were yet surrounded by the victims, I was irresist- ibly led to inquire if I was prepared for such a death, if God should call me to it ; and my next inquiry was, whether they, for whom I am bound to care most, are ready for the reali- ties of a world into which they may be precipitated with such fearful haste. I think it my duty to remind you of your lia- bilities and obligations, and I beseech of you all to make this work of preparation your chief work and your first work. Thank God, most of you, I trust, are Christians ; and yet I remember that you are young, are exposed to dangers, are BERNESE OBERLAN1). 285 liable to look upon death as far away, and to live with less piety than you would be willing to meet death with. I ex- hort you most affectionately to be always ready to keep your lamps trimmed to have your loins girded, and to be ready for this journey to the other world. Do not become relaxed do not restrain prayer do not neglect duty do not be- come worldly. Oh ! live for God, for Christ, who was cruci- fied for you for heaven, that He has purchased for you. Do not make the first retrograde step. Follow the Savior with all your hearts. Some of you have passed through college so far without religion. Of these, there are some whom I may not meet again. To them I beg the liberty of extending this one affectionate warning more this one urgent demand of them, that they give their hearts to God now, while they have time, and light, and life. I commit you all, my dear friends, as I do daily, to the protection and grace of our heav- enly Father. I hope to meet you ere long. I pray that we may meet in heaven. I beg an interest in your prayers, as you always have in mine. Very affectionately yours, S. OLIN. Dr. Olin had previously visited the quaint old towns of Belgium, but the beautiful Rhine, with its vine-clad hills and storied castles, was new to him, and the two days passed upon its waters, and in the towns upon its banks, were full of interest. The view of the Bernese Oberland, which, at a distance of sixty miles, in all its magnificence, "cloud-land, gorgeous land," broke upon him on the road from Basle to Berne, awakened an ir- repressible desire to look upon those snowy, rose-tinted mountains from some of the green valleys nestled among them ; and, contrary to his usual custom of adhering to a plan when formed, he changed his route, and the horses heads were turned toward Fribourg and Thun 286 LIFE AND LETTERS. instead of Lausanne. The sight of the " air-hung, breeze-shaken" suspension bridges, thrown over the rocky chasm at Fribourg, and the swelling, pealing notes of its wonderful organ, to which he listened in the twilight till he was quite overwhelmed with its majestic harmonies, which gave him a new idea of the power of sound, made him thankful for his change of route. The day, too, spent in visiting the Grrindelwald, was one of the most memorable in his continental tour. The morning sail on the lovely, deep blue Lake of Thun, encircled by its guardian mountains the smiling val- ley of the Grrindelwald, with its picturesque village, and the glacier creeping into the green and flowery meadow the lofty arch of ice, beneath which flowed the torrent of the Black Leutschine, foaming and dash- ing far below the road through the narrow gorge and the perpendicular walls of rock, with chalets and patch- es of verdure on their seemingly inaccessible summits, stamped a succession of vivid images on the mind. The next day, being Sunday, was passed at the Hotel Bellevue, which resembles an ornamental villa, with a profusion of oleanders, orange, and lemon-trees about the house and grounds, and commands a fine view of the Lake of Thun, and of the snowy Jungfrau in the distance.* * On the hill rising in the rear is a pretty little church, built by the enterprising landlord on his grounds, who gave repeated invita- tions to his guests to attend the morning service. At the ringing of the bell a goodly company wound up the path, and soon filled the church. At the close of the service, Dr. Olin was much amused at the important bearing of the landlord, who, solicitous alike for the bodies and the souls of his guests, stood at the door of the church observing the congregation, while the merry strains proceeding from THE HOTEL GIBBON. At Lausanne, at the Hotel Gribbon, Dr. Olin walked to and fro on the terrace by moonlight, looked on the tree under the shade of which Gribbon had often rested, and thought of an hour when, under similar associa- tions, the celebrated historian penned the last sentence of his great work, upon which no heavenly blessing had been invoked, and which has thrown chains of doubt over many a young and ingenuous mind. It had aided in fettering the expanding intellect of the Vermont boy, now transformed into the strong man, the mature and established Christian ; for those bonds were but as the " two new cords upon the arms of Samson, which be- came as flax burned with fire when the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him." The next morning Dr. Olin called to see the Rev. Charles Cook, in whose society he had passed a fortnight so agreeably at Nismes, in 1838, but he found that he had gone to England to attend the Wesleyan Conference at Bristol. From his wife and daughter he learned many particu- his little iron steam-boat on the lake announced the arrival of those for whose Sabbath hours he had provided a different entertainment. " How did you like the sermon 1" he inquired of a clergyman of the Church of England, as they descended the hill together. " Not at all," was the reply ; " I am sorry that you should allow such Puseyite doctrines to be preached to your guests." " What can I do," said the discomfited host ; " I am no judge, as I do not understand English, and I wrote to the Bishop of London, thinking that he would send me a good minister. But what shall I do for next yearl" "Perhaps T will come and supply your pulpit myself," said the clergyman. The next morning, at breakfast, there was presented to each guest the book recording the donations of visitors to the salary of the clergy- man, which was paid by the landlord, and which, judging from the amount of money subscribed, was no losing concern to the good man. Those^who failed to enter their names had in their bills the significant item Eglise a volonte. 288 LIFE AND LETTERS. lars of the religious agitations in the Canton de Vaud ; and then, guided by Miss Cook, he visited the cathe- dral and the Signal, a hill commanding a wide extent of undulating ground, diversified with vineyards and villages the calm, beautiful Lake of Geneva, and the lofty mountains rising from its opposite shores. On taking the steam-boat for Gfeneva, on the after- noon of the 29th of July, Dr. arid Mrs. Olin met with agreeable Christian friends, with whom they enjoyed, at this time and in subsequent excursions, many pleas- ant hours. These were the Rev. Professor and Mrs. Edwards, of Andover, and the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Hop- kins, of Buffalo. Of that company of six, four have in six years been transferred to a land where the slight ties of earth are woven into bonds of immortal strength and beauty. Two unclouded days were spent at Cha- mouni gazing from the Fiegere upon Mont Blanc, with his princely array of attendant aiguilles, and clamber- ing up the rugged sides of Montanvert to look upon the wonders of the Mer de Glace. Mr. and Mrs. Hop- kins were of the party of four, of which there is but one survivor ; the others have made the " grand final adventure," which has introduced them to a world the vague idea of whose glories may possibly be made more palpable to the inquiring, longing eye of faith by the devout contemplation of earth's sublimest scenes. . ' CXLV. TO PROFESSOR H. B. LANE. Geneva, August 3d, 1846. We have now been in this beautiful city five days. I think my last letter to Middletown was written from Brussels. From thence we went to Antwerp, and by the Belgian rail- road reached the Rhine at Cologne. We stopped a day or LETTER FROM GENEVA. 289 two successively in Cologne, in Bonn, Coblentz, Frankfort-on- the-Main, Heidelberg, Baden-Baden, Strasbourg, Basle, So- leure, Thun, Fribourg, arid Lausanne, devoting as much time as we thought advisable to the objects of interest in each place, and deviating from this devious route to visit whatever especially demanded such a course. Upon the whole, we have spent a good deal more time upon this part of our route than I had intended, though it was my purpose to remain in this country nearly until the middle of August. At one time, indeed, I had hoped that I should feel authorized to be present in London on the 4th in- stant, to attend the World's Temperance Convention, but I have what I esteem controlling reasons for declining the honor of that appointment.* Not that I have any new rea- sons in connection with my health. That continues as good as it has been since I came upon the Continent better, very decidedly, than before I left America ; but the weather is ex- tremely oppressive, as it has been for two months, with the exception only of a few days, and I might incur some hazard by spending the entire month in the heart of London. I have fresh in my memory, also, the warning of Dr. Woodward on the imprudence of attending public meetings. I must be pres- ent at the Christian Alliance, if possible, and the urgency of this obligation inculcates the necessity of using due forbear- ance in regard to other indulgences. The truth is, I have had less of positive rest since I came abroad than I antici- pated. I have been in motion, with only brief intervals, at least, ever since I left Paris ; and, although we were in that great city sixteen days, I rode or walked nearly every day as much as I was able. I think this course, upon the whole, the best for me, though I had expected to find some nook in this country so quiet and inviting as to favor a fortnight or so of repose. Up to this time, however, I have not found a con- *-He had been appointed a delegate by the American Temperance Union. II. N 290 LIFE AND LETTERS. venient opportunity for such quietude. Indeed, every nook and corner of Switzerland is full of life and motion at pres- ent. This is the traveling season, and the busiest part of it. All the hotels are full, and the inducements to move are very strong. The five days of nominal repose in this city have hung rather heavily upon me, and I propose to leave Geneva to-morrow for the region of Mont Blanc. There and there- about we intend to spend the most of the week. On Tues- day, the llth of August, we are to set out for Paris by the diligence, a journey which I dread more than a voyage across the Atlantic. It is an old terror of mine. I had intended to go down the Rhine to Holland or Belgium, in order to avoid it, but the time and money which such an expedient will cost seems to render a resort to it of doubtful propriety. I hope not to stay in Paris above a day or two. I gave as much time to its sights as I could afford, and have become even anxious to see the letters which I suppose are in wait- ing for me in London. We have had but one letter from the United States, and that was dated June 10th. From the university and our friends in Middletown the centre of attraction no less than of solicitude I have not yet heard, nor do I expect to hear before reaching London. I trust that all are well, and that all is well. May God prosper your en- deavors to promote the good cause ! Mr. John Harper, with his wife, son, and nephew, have been with us since we reached London. Rev. Mr. Hopkins and lady are also with us, and Professor B. B. Edwards and Mrs. Edwards are here. The Rev. Drs. Skinner and Patton left Geneva the day before we reached it. Another company of American clergymen, from Charleston, Baltimore, and Phil- adelphia, were here a month ago. We are a traveling peo- ple, and I fear the world will say a traveling profession. I have a clear conscience, and so, no doubt, have my pilgrim countrymen. I travel that I may work not that I may es- cape work. Much as I enjoy the fine scenery of this beauti- LETTER FROM GENEVA. 291 ful region, I should enjoy that and the occupations of Mid- dletown much more, provided always that I had health to en- dure the presence of calls to labor, which are only disagreea- ble when I am unable to obey them. I indulge favorable hopes in regard to the future. At the worst, this experiment will be of some value, as a test of what I am to expect and what I can hope to do. Next Wednesday will be your Commencement. I shall probably be near the Mer de Glace of Mont Blanc, and yet I am sure my thoughts will be chiefly occupied with scenes far away. How gladly would I be with you on that inter- esting day ! It grieves me to think that the senior class will be scattered so soon, and that, in all probability, I shall see most of them no more. I think they are prepared to do good in the world, which is the main thing after all, yet I would rejoice to be with them at such a season. May God pre- serve every man of them from all evil, and make every one instrumental in promoting the highest interests of our race ! I had intended to seek the acquaintance of some of the lead- ing men here, but have not done so. D'Aubigne is away for the summer, and the town is deserted by most of those who are able to consult their own tastes. The chasm, how- ever, is quite filled up with strangers. I am going to hear Mr. Malan preach before leaving Geneva. He is the bright star of the evangelicals here. I send my love to Mrs. Lane and the children, and to each of the Faculty and their families. Say to brother Floy that I intend to write to him from London. I regret that I am losing so much of his society and ministry. I hope you are all pleased and edified under his preaching. Dr. Olin did not carry out his plan of recording his impressions of Alpine scenery, and, under the title The Grlaciers, he only recalled his former views of the Alps, and did not proceed beyond the introduction to his 292 LIFE AND LETTERS. subject. This he wrote in his memorandum-book at Vevay, on an excursion from Geneva to the Castle of Chillon : Vevay, August 1th, 1846. I obtained the first view I ever enjoyed of the Alps and of Mont Blanc in November, 1838, while sailing on the Rhone between Lyons and Avignon. The monarch of mountains was then covered, or, rather, crowned with snow, as were several other peaks of this vast, magnificent pile the circumstance to which I was indebted for a spectacle equally gratifying and unexpected. I was on my way to Italy, which I had intended, and twice attempted to visit, by the great inland route through Switzerland, but was prevented by ill health. I made another fruitless at- tempt to penetrate the sublime Alpine region in 1840, on my return from the Holy Land ; but, on reaching Zurich, which I did from Vienna, with the design of passing through the Oberland, and seeing Mont Blanc from some of the wild valleys and easily accessible summits in its neighborhood, I found myself unequal to the toil and exposure of such an en- terprise, and reluctantly took the route through Basle to Par- is. Here, again, an hour or so before reaching Brugg, I had an unexpected and glorious view of a long range of Alps, clad in their eternal snows, and rising into distinct pinnacles, which, from my position, sixty or seventy miles distant from them, appeared not unlike a row of colossal pyramids, lifting their hoary tops high above the immense field of mountains that, to my eye, had sunk into a plain. London, August Wth, 1846. I reached this city yesterday evening from Dieppe, having left Paris on Friday at 2 P.M. We stopped at Mr. Randall's. To-day I heard Rev. Hugh Stowell in Bow Church a clear, ardent, faithful discourse on the commendation of the unjust steward. The lord may- or was there in state. It was a charity sermon for the in- digent blind. Mr. Stowell, who is from Manchester, is a huge THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 293 man very ruddy has a good voice used no notes, and was bold and eloquent clear and striking, though not original or profound. Sunday evening. I heard the Rev. George Steward in City- road Chapel a powerful, profound, eloquent sermon, which I have seldom heard equaled. Mr. Steward is un- couth in manner, but the equal of Chalmers in matter and spirit, and much of the same school. Monday \lth. Attended the " Aggregate Committee" pre- liminary to the Evangelical Alliance. This I did morning and evening, on Monday and Tuesday. On Wednesday, the 19th, "the Alliance" met. I was able to attend all its meetings till it rose, on Thursday, September 3d. Many delightful seasons did I enjoy with the elite of European Christians. They were eminently " times of re- freshing," for which I hope long to be thankful to the Giver of all good gifts. In this great movement Dr. Olin was completely ab- sorbed ; before nine in the morning he was on his way to the Conference, which he did not leave till about nine at night. One speech which he made in the course of debate was said to be most thrilling and effective. It was entirely unpremeditated, and was taken down by the reporter to the Convention, and published in their official report.* It is more like himself than his address at the public meeeting in Exeter Hall, where in the evening, worn out with the fatigues of the day, he was unable, in the fifteen minutes allowed to each speaker, to throw himself into the subject, and to give a satisfactory expression of his sentiments. His views on the great questions which occupied the attention of the Alliance, and in the discussion of which he bore a * Dr. Olin's Works, vol. ii., p. 466. 294 LIFE AND LETTERS. prominent part, are fully expressed in the letters to his friends. " It was," he says, " a truly glorious meet- ing such an assemblage of great and good men as will hardly be seen again in this generation. Our harmony and our power of harmonizing was truly wonderful, and only to be accounted for by supposing the presence of a divine, subduing agency." A general feeling of thanksgiving and love animated the meeting, and the devout aspirations of many hearts were expressed by the Rev. Edward Bickersteth (the Fletcher of the Alliance), when he prayed that "the primitive state of the Church might again be realized, and that the multitude of them that believe might be of one heart and one soul." When called to vote upon the motion, " that, deeply convinced of the desirable- ness of forming a confederation on the basis of great evangelical principles, held in common by them, &c., they hereby proceed to form such a confederation un- der the name of ' THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE ;' " at the recommendation of the chair, the entire assembly rose, and spent a few moments in solemn, silent prayer. The resolution was carried unanimously, the members remaining standing ; then, with a swell of holy song, the Doxology rose from their united hearts and voices ; after which, under the influence of most kindly and delightful feelings, the members of the Alliance ex- changed cordial greetings by shaking hands with each other. Praise to Grod and love to man were the dom- inant feelings of that gathered throng. Another hour of concentrated and hallowed Christian sentiment was that in which the motion to adopt the Doctrinal Ba- sis (-" a combination of solemn, weighty, all-important DIFFICULTIES. 295 truths to be presented to the Christian world") was car- ried, and the Conference, with a glow of devotional feel- ing, sang the hymn, " All hail the great Immanuel's name, Let angels prostrate fall, Bring forth the royal diadem, And crown him Lord of all !" But, amid these scenes which gave a foretaste of heavenly fellowship and joy, the disturbing element of slavery was thrown in, and the resolution was pressed upon the Conference that no slaveholder should be a member of the Alliance. The American brethren urged that, having received a basis of union to which they could subscribe, and having left their homes to accept the invitation of British Christians, the basis should not have been altered by the addition of an article which, had it been received with the invitation, would have prevented most of the Americans from crossing the Atlantic. This argument would have had great weight but from the fact that some of the Americans had opened the door to innovations by suggesting the addition to the basis of the article on the doctrine of eternal rewards and punishments. Some of the most distinguished English brethren deprecated the intro- duction of the subject of slavery as " inconsistent with the principles and design of the whole movement, as tending to give it a political character, and to involve the Alliance in the discussion of questions with which it had no concern." They felt " impressed with the conviction that it would be the means of crippling, to a certain extent, or destroying this glorious movement."* * Mr. Justice Crampton. 296 LIFE AND LETTERS. Dr. Olin, with others from America, protested against this resolution from the first, " under the most over- whelming conviction that nothing could be done under it in America that it would be impossible to gather under such a banner a tenth of the sober Christianity, or a tenth of the sober anti-slavery feeling of the Northern States. After an animated discussion, the matter was referred to a special committee, appointed by the chair, of fifty members. Dr. Olin was one of this committee, which, after hours pf prayerful deliberation, and after concessions made in the spirit of love by both parties, brought in their report, which recommended that the resolution on the slavery question be rescinded, and the following proposition be submitted to the Conference : " That, whereas brethren from the continents of Eu- rope and America, as well as in this country, are un- able, without consultation with their countrymen, to settle all the arrangements for their respective coun- tries, it is expedient to defer the final and complete ar- rangement of the details of the Evangelical Alliance, of which the foundation has now been laid, till another General Conference." This was carried, and the Conference closed as it began, in the full exercise of Christian fellowship and love.* * The Evangelical Alliance held its second session a few days after Dr. Olin had entered into the full and complete harmony of a higher existence. A letter written from London to the Rev. Dr. Peck, by the Rev. William Arthur, one of the Wesleyan missionary secretaries, and author of "The Successful Merchant," groups many of the dis- tinguished men who shared in the deliberations of that great assem- bly, where nine hundred brethren of all evangelical denominations met together in unity. The brief reference we have made to the only THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 297 The annexed document, presented to the Conference and entered on the minutes, expresses the feelings with subject which disturbed the harmony of the Conference may suggest the reason why " the Alliance has scarce lived in America." "Augustus, 1851. " The Evangelical Alliance is now in full session. It began its sit- tings more than a week ago, and is to continue them for some days longer, so as to extend altogether over a fortnight. The present Con- ference is scarcely so numerous as the great Constituent Assembly of 1846. Many who were present and active then are absent now. You will well remember Edward Bickersteth, R. W. Kyle, and Dr. Byrth : all these have gone to a world where union is unbroken. Dr. Bunt- ing, too, who was so prominent then, is disabled by failing strength from attending. His accomplished and able son, Mr. William Bunt- ing, is just emerging from a very dangerous illness ; so that he also is away. Dr. Wardlaw and Dr. Liefchild are both there ; but upon both, especially the former, five years have told with affecting power. Baptist Noel is no longer the same man. That placid grace which animated his fine visage so equably has given place to deeper lines and a less sunny expression ; altogether he looks older, and more like a man who had felt the wear and waste of life. J. A. James and Thomas Binney are much what they were. So also is Dr. Cox and J. H. Hinton. The youthful air of Dr. King is merging into gray hairs. The dark locks of Dr. Buchanan have grown bright gray. James Hamilton is neither older-looking, nor less simple and lovable. Thomas Farmer is stooping. Sir Culling Eardly is growing older. John Henderson is just as white of hair and as fresh of complexion. Adolphe Monod, Tholuck, Fisch, Baup, and Ouken, are little changed. Krumacher, the celebrated author of Elijah, is there, with a large Ger- man frame, surmounted by a great head, which is luxuriantly over- hung with light locks. A persecuted Baptist brother from Sweden, and another from Denmark ; a fine Chinese youth, a young Brahmin, just going out to labor among his countrymen, after a residence of some years at Basle, in Switzerland ; a Syrian gentleman in full Ori- ental attire, and always wearing on his head the fez, or red close cap, and who has completed his curriculum of medical studies, and is about to go out to his countrymen as a medical missionary ; these all add to the interest of the assembly. The muster of French brethren, of Swiss, and of Germans, is greater than at the first Conference. The other nations of Europe also are represented, as they were not then. N 2 298 LIFE AND LETTERS. which the Americans parted from their English breth- ren: " The undersigned, as a committee of the American mem- bers of the Alliance, beg leave, on behalf of their countrymen, to say, in these concluding scenes of the Conference, that they feel it proper to express the grateful satisfaction which they have experienced during these sessions. They have wit- nessed the piety, the intelligence, and the benignity of Eu- ropean, and especially of British Christians as well as your hospitality, your large-hearted Catholicism, your steady pur- suit of the object and the interests of this Holy Alliance and also your self-denial, your generous expenditure to a very large amount, in preparation for the Conference and in con- nection with it, and their hearts have responded with divine delight, glorifying God in you. Accept these sincere utter- ances of gratitude and fraternal feeling. They commend you all and especially the honorable baronet, Sir Culling Eard- ley Smith, who has so ably and kindly presided over the de- liberations with all their hearts, to the covenant favor of God our Savior. They will gratefully remember you when far absent, should it please God to reconduct them in health But on all hands a want has been felt. Where is the gentle and in- tellectual Spring 1 Where the noble and manly Patton 1 Where the vivacious and sparkling Cox 1 Where the glowing and melting Kirk ? Where the lofty and powerful Olin 1 Where, sir, your own worthy person, with those of many another brother, Spicer, Dempster, Ken- naday, from our brother country in the West where 1 They are not all gone with the brave and hopeful Emory, where our ears may not hope ever again to hear the moving words of his eloquence. Many of them are yet with us here, in this our place of need and struggle ; yet, when we meet to-day, they meet us not. Why 1 Alas ! alas ! why 1 ? Our Alliance has scarce lived in America ; our brethren who came thence went home from us, we are told, with a heavy heart ; and now that we convoke the world again, good Dr. Baird appears among us mournfully, and seems to say, I only am come alone to tell you." THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 299 and safety over the vast ocean to their beloved native coun- try, and to the incomparable endearments of ' home, sweet home,' in the circles of their own families. They ask a kind remembrance in your prayers, and trust that all will unite to strengthen the bonds of Christian amity and cordial appre- ciation between these two related countries by all proper in- fluence in regard to them ; and they conclude with the pray- er that this blessed Alliance may have and enjoy the patron- age and favor of God Almighty, in whom, through the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, is all our hope. And with these sentiments they desire to bid you all a most affectionate FAREWELL ! " STEPHEN OLIN, ) Committee as "SAMUEL H. Cox, ) above. " Freemason's Hall, London, Sept. 1st, 1846." On Sunday, August the 23d, eighty-one pulpits of different denominations in London were occupied by members of the Evangelical Alliance, and there was preaching in French, Grerman, and Irish, as well as En- glish. The pulpit assigned to Dr. Olin by the commit- tee of arrangements was in Queen Street Chapel, Lin- coln's Inn, where the Rev. Dr. Beaumont was then sta- tioned. The next Sunday he preached in the City- road Chapel, where, in by-gone years, Wesley, with a countenance luminous with truth and goodness, and words instinct with life and power, ministered to an eager, earnest crowd, " the ransomed of Methodism." During the meetings of the Evangelical Alliance in London, two public breakfasts were given one by Sir Culling Eardley Smith, who presided with grace and singular ability at the sessions of the Convention, and who extended the hospitalities of his house to all its members ; and another, by the "Wesleyan missionary 300 LIFE AND LETTERS. secretaries to their foreign brethren. The latter was given in the Centenary Hall, where about thirty guests sat down to a beautiful repast, adorned with fruits and flowers, and served in one of the rooms of that noble missionary building. Dr. Bunting, who presided, made some kind observations in regard to American Method- ism and its representatives then present, at the close of which he requested Dr. Olin to occupy a few moments in giving utterance to such sentiments as he should think adapted to the occasion. After making suitable allusions to other topics, Dr. Olin spoke of the subject, which rushed to his lips he knew not how wisely, which was already darkening the prospects of the Al- liance, and which soon would be forced on the atten- tion of all present. He took occasion to urge the im- portance of cultivating fraternal relations among all the, branches of the great Wesleyan family, and, expressing his regret that the Methodist Episcopal Church South was not represented in their circle, nor in the Alliance, he assured his elder brethren that, while no branch of the great Wesleyan family is more worthy of confi- dence on the score of sound doctrine, sincere piety, and truly "Wesleyan labors, none are more distinguished for large catholic sentiments and aspirations. He refer- red to the division of the Church as ecclesiastical, and as in no way affecting the right of either party to rec- ognition and confidence ; and he expressed his convic- tion that the two great bodies would unquestionably return to sentiments of mutual confidence and affec- tion, so soon as the pending controversies, of which all were growing weary, became exhausted and qui- eted. Dr. Peck and Dr. Emory confirmed Dr. Olin's BREAKFAST AT CENTENARY HALL. 301 statements ; and Dr. Emory, with great simplicity and grace, spoke of the details narrated to him by his fa- ther of his visit to his Wesleyan brethren as the first delegate from American Methodism, as being among the most vivid memories of his childhood, and of the gratification it had afforded him to have those early impressions clearly defined and confirmed by his per- sonal presence in the midst of them. The Rev. Mr. Toase, from Paris, who spoke in behalf of the brethren from the Continent, introduced a pas- teur from Montauban, whose remarks being in French, were translated by the Rev. Charles Cook, of Lausanne. He was a convert of Felix Neff, who came to his fa- ther's house when the speaker was a boy, and prayed. Deeply affected by the earnest prayer of this primitive apostolic man, he requested him to write it for him ; but Neff declined, telling the eager petitioner that he must ask Grod to teach him to pray. He had learned to make his requests known unto Grod, and the three desires of his heart had been granted that he might become a colporteur, a minister, and a missionary. Mr. Cook then briefly alluded to the disturbances in the Canton de Vaud, and the persecutions which had broken up their congregations and closed their churches ; and, as the party separated at the close of this delightful en- tertainment, he accompanied Dr. 01 in to the Conference at Freemason's Hall. The same day, Dr. Olin dined at the Rev. Dr. Alder's, where, among the distinguished guests, Professor Tholuck, by the freedom and vivacity of his remarks on the political and religious aspects of his own country, perhaps made the largest contribution to the pleasures of the hour. The Rev. Mr. Bevan, the 302 LIFE AND LETTERS. secretary of the Evangelical Alliance, who led the con- gregational singing in the great meeting at Exeter Hall, spoke of Madame Tholuck's pleasure in hearing " (rod save the Emperor ;" and while the fruits were put on the table, at the request of an American lady, he, in a deep, rich, full voice, again raised the noble strain : " May the grace of Christ our Savior, With the Father's boundless love, And the Holy Spirit's favor, Rest upon us from above." Dr. Olin's letters to Professor Smith and Dr. Floy, and a few entries in his memorandum-book, reveal his deep interest in the object which had brought him across the Atlantic, and record the incidents of his re- maining days in England. CXLVI. TO PROFESSOR A. W. SMITH. London, Sept. 1st, 1846. I thank you for your kind favor received three days ago. I write by a gentleman who is about leaving the house for Liverpool, or I could be able to enter more fully into some interesting topics than is now possible. I need not say that I greatly rejoice at the favorable auspices under which the Commencement passed. It was an anxious day with me, I assure you. Though at the base of Mont Blanc, I was with you in spirit, and I earnestly desire never again to be sepa- rated from duties and interests to which I must yet feel so deeply pledged. I am full of confidence in my beloved col- leagues, but this hardly diminishes my desire to be at my post. I trust I shall have improved somewhat in health by this pilgrimage. I probably could have done nothing at home, which is the one alleviating thought. Our Evangelical Alliance is formed. It has been a season THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 303 long to be remembered by us all. Memorable, I trust, it will be on earth and in heaven. We have passed through the most trying scenes. Through insurmountable difficulties God has graciously led us. We have reached harmonious conclusions after all hope had abandoned us. We have at last settled on a basis free from all taint of ultraism almost with the consent of ultraists. Indeed, the presence of God and his overruling influence have been wonderful, and very manifest. I trust the whole enterprise will redound to Christ's glory throughout the whole world and all ages. It was truly good to be here, though we of America have had the deepest tri- als. We all part better friends than we could ever have been without these trials. We are now known in England, and I think that bad men and devils will find it hard to poison the Christian mind of a great Christian nation against us in one generation more. We have had an assembly of great, learned, and holy men, such, I apprehend, as the world has not seen before. What was most wonderful has been their humility and love one to another. The pent-up heart of our Christianity exulted at such an opportunity for making known its deep emotions. I am quite confident that we shall be better hereafter, /mean to be. Mrs. Olin has written all particulars. Give my love to dear Mrs. Smith and the family, also to our beloved asso- ciates and their families, as also to the students. How hap- py I shall be if God allow me to be among you again ! CXLVII. TO THE REV. DR. FLOY. London, Sept. 19th, 1846. I had hoped to hear from you ere this time, and yet the fault may be wholly mine you may be waiting to hear from me. If so, I must beg your pardon, and claim it on the score of having been pressed with many more engagements than I have fulfilled, or could possibly fulfill. As to correspondence, 304 LIFE AND LETTERS. you have probably seen every letter, with perhaps a single exception, that I have written since I saw you. They have all been to my colleagues in Middletown. I am to embark at Portsmouth on the 24th inst., in the Prince Albert, Cap- tain Sebor, for New York. I have thought this a better way than to return by a steamer, though I can ill spare the ad- ditional time. I need the sail, and this is a controlling rea- son with me. You will hear by others of the Evangelical Alliance. I suppose the papers will have given you full reports ere this meets your eye. You may perhaps wish to know my opin- ions on the subject. The meeting more than equaled my expectations, whether reference is had to the actual interest of its proceedings or the character and spirit of its members. Many truly great men and good men assisted at its sittings ; and it was delightful beyond all my anticipations to witness the simple, child-like, loving piety of great divines and schol- ars, whom we have admired so much in the distance. All seemed deeply impressed with the momentous importance "of our objects, and all, I think, left London pretty well satisfied with the results. Not that the plans and anticipations of all were satisfied. Perhaps those of none were fully met. All were called upon to concede more, probably, than they had at all anticipated ; but the spirit in which concessions were made was so delightful that it brought with it a blessing as from God. Not a few instances occurred in which men voted against views which they had advocated with powerful ar- gument and eloquence not, perhaps, because they were con- vinced, but because it seemed right to yield so much to the wishes or conscientious difficulties of others. Not a few of these exigencies arose, and our deliverances from them were usually accompanied by the most signal evidences of the Di- vine presence and favor. It was the universal testimony that these manifestations were unusual and marked. You heard from the mouths of the most sedate, cautious, and pru- THE EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 305 dent men constant expressions of wonder and gratitude declarations that they had never felt such religious emotions before had never thought of such sweet, heavenly scenes in this world. God only knows what permanent good may come of this meeting ; hut sure I am that those who were present will rejoice in the sweet influences that fell upon them, and will deem it a peculiar favor to have mingled in such heavenly converse. I must believe that lasting good will be the re- sult. I foresee obstacles. We met with serious obstacles, which I could have anticipated. What new difficulties may rise on our side of the water, I will wait for time to disclose, though I might conjecture some with but too strong a feeling of certainty. Every thing may be lost by attempting too much. This became very apparent here. It was found that measures deemed harmless in England or useful in Scotland were likely to prove injurious or fatal in Prussia or France It was this comparison of interests that gave so mild an as- pect to the anti-popery side of the Alliance ; so that all my wishes on that subject were satisfied in the absolute necessi- ties of the case. Another very troublesome point arose out of the injudicious attempt forced upon the Alliance to make it an abolition movement. I am quite sure that nine tenths of the Convention deplored this effort as foreign to the objects of the Alliance. I believe every American but Mr. Himes, including many thorough-going abolitionists, strongly depre- cated the introduction of the subject. They thought that any demonstration from England would offend our national prejudices, and so embarrass us, even in the Northern States, with all the dissensions and heart-burnings which former er- rors and strifes have bequeathed to the Churches. It was finally resolved, I think wisely, to leave this American ques- tion to American Christianity. The advocates of the meas- ure acquiesced cheerfully, and Dr. Wardlaw, with others of his standing, expressed his satisfaction in the result. This, 306 LIFE AND LETTERS. if any thing, will be the rock on which we may split in the United States. May God endow us all with the spirit of wisdom and love. Whatever measures shall be taken, I am sure it will be well that they originate on our own soil, and not in a foreign and a rival nation. I beg you to remember me to Mrs. Floy, and my many dear friends in Middletown. Happy shall I be to meet you, my dear friend and brother, at my own home. Extract from Journal. Friday, September / 6 * *t X .