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 ministry 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 sickbed, 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 season-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 deeply 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. 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 expect: "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 smallest. 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 petitioner, 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 achievement 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 nothing at all. So it is in experimental piety. They who fix the standard of hope low seldom rise above it. unbelief, and often reap in disappointment. 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!"* They sow in * 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. 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 accumulated 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 longtried 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, Wilkesbarre, Pennsylvania-a laborious journey, but a most interesting 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 Conference, 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 interesting Conference, youthful, ardent a little mercurial, strong in resources and talent. I hope they will prove to have ballast for all weathers. We are doing as well as usual here. New students are coming in, of whom we have already received more than thirty. I heard from my brother on his arrival home about September 1st. He was as well as he was when he began his journey southward, and less fatigued than he feared. I feel, perhaps, too much anxiety about him. My family attachments 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 selecting from the better classes of Georgia ladies—a class nowhere surpassed for high qualities, and for the heart and grace with which they generally adorn and bless the conjugal 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 family 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 October, 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 specially 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 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 communication with the warmest hearts and the most enlightened minds. It postpones the coming of the chills of selfishness and caution, and superannuation. What is yet more material, I have a keen relish for intercourse and correspondence 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 volume. It is precisely the sort of liberty I would have you use in regard to me. Many compliments would not have gratified 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. am waiting with some solicitude for Dr. Robinson's article in |