admire, but to revere him. His conversation, always interesting, was, when he spoke on religious subjects, intensely so. I think I can see him now (as I once saw him during that visit), pacing the floor, his figure drawn up to its utmost elevation, his head slightly thrown back as in an upward gaze, and the unheeded tears rolling down his face as he descanted on the love of God. A beloved friend and brother, now with him in heaven, had been conversing with him on the evil tendency of some heretical views, and ended by saying, with great solemnity, 'I do not see how God can save those who die in such a faith.' How well I remember Dr. Olin's manner, as with deep emotion he replied, 'And I, sir, think it very difficult for God to leave a soul to perdition;' and it was then he descanted on the love of God, and on the mighty influences put forth for man's salvation, in a manner which showed that the depths of that great heart were stirred. "After his return from Europe, I saw still more of Dr. Olin, and I need not say to you, my dear friend, that at ev ery interview my respect for him was heightened. Oth have endeavored to describe his inimitable manner of full ing public duties; I would speak of his social characterthat rare union of qualities which made him so perfect in relations of friend and companion. His colloquial po were remarkable. To the most felicitous choice of lang he added a chastened humor and a spontaneous wit, came welling up, while his expressive features antic all that his lips might utter; and, when serious, how serious were his tones, how ponderously his words an ments fell upon the heart! And yet it was the qua intellect that rendered his heart rather than of his panionship so delightful; his great mental superior whom I found in good health. .ng in Charles Street Church. onary address in Light Street to al liberty. I pray that it may oering zeal of these Churches in ays made melancholy when any y before me the wretched condilittle is done to relieve them of ittle do the most awakened of us ndition! I feel a lively wish that me small degree useful in arousing ject, and I am conscious of leading a When shall I begin to be really Not, I fear, till it is too late to accomle. I am heartily ashamed of myself his is not repentance nor reformation. r a day or two more. I shall hardly , though nothing hinders but a decided t to go to Philadelphia on Friday, if not n my own consent, I may stay there a lay, when I have some service to perto hear from you and Henry. I find ling you to the Divine protection. My Is, that he may grow up to be a true worthless are all other distinctions! tisfy all the reasonable wishes of pibless, and comfort, and preserve you altimore, he said to three ladies in Mrs. to do something for missions. Form a ty, and I will come on and plead for you at society was formed, a large amount of montheir exertions, and it was to redeem his pledge alled on to take this journey. The address delivasion is to be ford in his works, vol. ii., p. 344 hold treasures here. With one child, laughing with delight, in his arms, another at his knee, whose transport could only find expression in vigorous leaps, and you, his beloved wife, at his side as he surveyed first one, then another object of love, I thought I had never seen a more complete picture of earthly felicity." In the calm tenor of Middletown life, one day in this autumn deserves a passing notice. It was a beautiful day, in September, 1850, when about two thousand of the inhabitants of Middletown were gathered together to hallow with prayer, and solemn speech, and holy hymn the Indian Hill, "a glorious mount, made solemn, majestic, and monumental by Nature herself," for a resting-place for the dead. The Rev. Mr. Goodwin, of the Episcopal Church, having dwelt upon the religious aspects of the occasion, Dr. Olin presented some of the social and economic considerations connected with the movement, and his remarks were thought by many to be in his happiest vein. They may be found in the second volume of his works. Letters from January, 1849, to April, 1851. CLXXXII. TO MRS. OLIN. Baltimore, January 9th, 1849. I did not reach Philadelphia till about sunset last Friday. The wind carried the snow upon the rails, and so retarded the train. This put us out of our proper relations with the coming trains, for which we had to wait, go back, &c., so that the day was consumed in the journey to Philadelphia. Bishop Janes was with me, which mitigated the tedium of this unexpected delay. I had a brief but very pleasant interview with Mr. Montgomery. I reached Baltimore on Saturday, and stopped with my kind old friends, the Wilkins', whom I found in good health. I preached on Sunday morning in Charles Street Church. Last evening I made a missionary address in Light Street to a good audience, and with usual liberty.* I pray that it may be useful in inciting the slumbering zeal of these Churches in that good cause. I am always made melancholy when any event or duty brings vividly before me the wretched condition of the heathen. How little is done to relieve them of unutterable evils. How little do the most awakened of us care for their hapless condition! I feel a lively wish that may be able to be in some small degree useful in arousing the Church on this subject, and I am conscious of leading a useless life in all respects. When shall I begin to be really alive to my duties? Not, I fear, till it is too late to accomplish any thing valuable. I am heartily ashamed of myself and my conduct, but this is not repentance nor reformation. I I may stay here for a day or two more. I shall hardly proceed to Washington, though nothing hinders but a decided inclination. I expect to go to Philadelphia on Friday, if not earlier. If I can gain my own consent, I may stay there a day or two after Monday, when I have some service to perform. I am anxious to hear from you and Henry. I find satisfaction in commending you to the Divine protection. My strong desire for him is, that he may grow up to be a true Ichild of God. How worthless are all other distinctions! How sufficient this to satisfy all the reasonable wishes of pious parents! May God bless, and comfort, and preserve you and Henry. * On a previous visit to Baltimore, he said to three ladies in Mrs. Wilkins' parlor, "You ought to do something for missions. Form a Ladies' Missionary Society, and I will come on and plead for you at your anniversary." The society was formed, a large amount of money was raised through their exertions, and it was to redeem his pledge that Dr. Olin was called on to take this journey. The address delivered on this occasion is to be found in his works, vol. ii., p. 344 CLXXXIII. TO MRS. J. R. OLIN. Middletown, February 1st, 1849. Your letter, written early in December, was forwarded to me in New York, where, with my family, I spent the most of the long winter vacation, and whence I have just now returned. My health has been much better during the last year and a half than formerly. I have not once been confined by serious indisposition, and but in a single instance been detained from my post of duty. I have yet to struggle, however, with a broken and unmendable constitution. I can not do much, and that little must be attempted cautiously. In term time I seldom preach, being barely equal to an abbreviated scale of duties. In my vacations, however, relieved from the weight of official responsibility, I work in this most delightful of my avocations frequently, and without any appreciable injury. I have preached rather more than once a week during the vacation now closed, and I think my health is better than it was during the autumn. To-day our labors begin again. I do not begin my letter with this treatise upon my own health because I am positively or comparatively indifferent in regard to yours or brother's, who have recently been called to suffer so much more than I, but rather, I suspect, to dispatch a disagreeable subject as soon as possible. When I heard of your serious and, as I feared, dangerous illness, I grieved for your sake, and hardly less for my brother's. I felt very deeply that his happiness and comfort, and perhaps life, were very dependent upon you. I thought as I had never done before, of the goodness of God in giving him such a friend in his long, wearisome way-one so adapted to his wants in disposition, habits, and sympathies; and I too easily imagined the dreary solitude with which your removal would surround him. I thank God that you are again in health, with, I trust, as fair a prospect as before of many good |