As the subject of this chapter has but recently deceased, and as no written life has as yet appeared, it will be impossible for the writer of these chapters to give more than a meager account of this truly great, and in some respects, wonderful man. Yet a man who was so well known, and so deservedly esteemed as was President Olin, has no doubt left a memorial of his greatness on the minds and hearts of all who were so fortunate as to cultivate his friendship, or to form even his acquaintance. It is the latter circumstance, which impels the author to attempt a sketch of his life and character, more especially as the subject of the chapter was in a most emphatic sense, an eminent Methodist minister, as well as one of nature’s noblemen.

Stephen Olin was born in the town of Leicester, Addison County, State of Vermont, on the 2d day of March, 1797. His father, Judge Olin, was a man of great respectability, and filled for a length of time, the office of Lieutenant Governor of the State of Vermont. Stephen, at a very early age, manifested a love for study, and after having undergone the requisite training in the district school of his native town, he was in due time initiated into the higher grade of schools, so plentifully found in his native State; and after having completed his academic course of study, he entered Middlebury College, which is located but a few miles from the place of his birth. His room-mate, and confidential friend during his stay at College, was Mr., now Hon. Myron Lawrence, of Massachusetts. These young men were competitors for the highest graduating honors, and so equally balanced were each of their claims, that the faculty of the institution had the matter under deliberation for two weeks, after having disposed of the other appointments to the students; and in the final arrangement of parts, both were allowed to share in the laurels. The valedictory, however, was given to Olin, but being confined to his room by sickness, Mr. Lawrence had the honor of its delivery. The President of the College, however, was free to acknowledge, that Olin displayed the greatest amount of talent of any young man who had ever passed before him in examination.

After having graduated, Mr. Olin’s health being frail, and his resources limited, he concluded that a residence at the South would be a benefit to both the one and the other. He accordingly bade farewell to his native hills, and went to South Carolina, and providentially found an opening for the use of his talents, as Principal of Tabernacle Academy, in the Abbeville District.

Up to this time, Mr. Olin was designed by his father for the bar, and as yet he had made no profession of religion. Indeed, so far as he had any definitely formed views of religion, he was inclined to skepticism and infidelity. As the academy of which he had been chosen principal was situated in the midst of a Methodist community, and was patronized by that denomination of Christians, he was required by the standing rules of the institution, to open and close the exercises of the school each day with prayer. He hesitated at this point, doubting in his own mind whether he could make an intelligent prayer. After having tried his skill, however (probably in secret at first), he consented to the requirement of the trustees but now his conscience began loudly to accuse him of mocking God, by going through a daily round of devotional exercises in the presence of his pupils, which in his case was the result of stipulation — of bargain with the managers of the school, without any religious convictions or feelings on his part.

As a sense of the impropriety of this course pressed more and more heavily upon him, he was led to examine in the most serious manner, the evidences of Christianity. This serious investigation, resulted in the full and clear conviction of the truth of revealed religion, and of the importance and necessity of conforming to her requirements. Upon further examination, he discovered himself to be a poor lost sinner by nature, and that unless he found deliverance through the blood of the Redeemer of mankind, he must be lost eternally. He, accordingly, resolved in the strength of God, to become a Christian, at the hazard of the loss of fame, honor, and wealth.

One morning, he went out to a spot in the vicinity of the academy, and kneeling down before his Maker and Judge, he sought his favor, he sued for pardon, he invoked the blessing of a clean heart; and in answer to the prayer of faith that would take no denial, soon he found peace in believing, and Stephen Olin became a “new creature,” “old things having passed away, and all things having become new.” The surrender of his soul and body had been complete; his pride of intellect and of education had been subdued; his powers were forever consecrated to the service of God; and as a result, his sense of the divine favor was clear, and his conversion convincing to himself and others.

As soon as Mr. Olin became a Christian, he saw the importance of openly professing his faith in Christ, and as the only consistent way for him to do so, was to identify himself with the visible body of Christ, he soon united with the Methodist Episcopal Church as a probationer, — a step which all whether learned, or unlearned, rich or poor, must take before they can gain admission to membership in the Methodist Church. After a probation of six months, Mr. Olin was received into full communion, having given evidence in the meantime, of his conversion and upright walk. Shortly after his connection with the Church, he felt that he was called of God to preach the Gospel. Among his friends in Abbeville, who took a deep interest in his spiritual welfare was the late Rev. James E. Glenn, at that time the stationed minister in the place, and a man of some celebrity as a preacher, who perceiving in young Olin the elements of future greatness, at once encouraged him to make a proper use of his talents as a public speaker, and for the purpose of affording him an opportunity for so doing, frequently took him with him, to his preaching appointments on the Sabbath, where he would follow the preacher with an exhortation to the congregation, and then close the exercises by singing and prayer. Soon the exhortations of Mr. Olin, became the most interesting part of the services, so that the preacher was completely eclipsed by the glowing, burning eloquence of the exhorter.

As soon as his engagements with the trustees of the academy, would allow — he, having in the meantime, obtained license to preach — he offered himself; by the persuasions of his friends, to the South Carolina Annual Conference of 1824, as a Methodist traveling preacher, and was received, and stationed in the city of Charleston, S. C. His first sermon in that city was delivered while the Conference was still in session, and in the presence of most of the preachers. His subject was the conversion of St. Paul, — a most appropriate one for the occasion. — One who heard him at that time, says in reference to the sermon:— “It was night, and at the old Trinity Church. He rose in the pulpit, tall and ungraceful; went through the introductory exercises, particularly the prayer, with a simplicity of manner, and an earnestness of tone and style of supplication, very different from the ordinary style of such a service; read out his text, closed the Bible and turned it round; laid his hands upon its corners, and began preaching. He had no divisions in his sermon, and yet it was the very soul of method, So clear that you saw through all its connections at a glance, as he went along. — He struck at once into an original track of thought — profound, searching, brilliant, chaining the attention. His sea-line took all the soundings of the human heart; his analysis was master of the deepest intricacies of human motive and passion; his imagination soared into the heaven of invention; his action at going off awkward and his long arms thrown about without the slightest reference to rhetorical canons, presently seemed the fittest in the world to accompany an intellectual handling of the subject, perfectly sui generis, the like of which had never before been known. Soon his mind was glowing at a white heat; the mass of thought ran like molten gold, poured from inexhaustible sources; and his intellect seemed to have a range wide as the compass of heaven and earth. He commenced preaching at seven o’clock, and the bells of the city were ringing for nine as he closed; and there we were utterly unconscious that even twenty minutes had elapsed, all tremulous with excitement; the tall, awkward man, with his singular gesticulations, unique manner, everything — literally everything — lost sight of, forgotten, in the grand, glorious, majestic truth of the gospel, which flashed like chain-lightning around that old, high, ungainly pulpit, for the nonce [for the time being, for the present occasion] a throne of thunders.”

The description thus given of Mr. Olin’s first sermon, by the graphic pen of Rev. Dr. Wightman, of South Carolina, throws considerable light upon his early efforts in the pulpit, and it is no wonder that the same writer observes, that, “Never in the memory of the oldest Methodists, had so powerful a preacher burst with so sudden a splendor, and tremendous an effect upon the Church.”

Mr. Olin remained in Charleston but six months, when he was compelled on the approach of hot weather, such was his state of health, to seek a few months’ relaxation, in a more northern clime. He returned, however, to Charleston on the setting in of winter, and at the next session of the Conference, was re-appointed to the same field of labor, with the hope that if his health was not sufficient to endure the labors of the pulpit, he might be able to edit a religious paper — the Wesleyan Journal, — which had been projected, and the prospectus drawn up by Mr. Olin’s hand had been issued, — these hopes were not realized, as before the time of publication had arrived, he was again compelled to leave the city. But although disappointed in becoming the editor of the Journal, he furnished from time to time some very able papers for the same, which were greatly admired.

In 1826, Mr. Olin having passed through his two years, probationary course, preparatory to his admission to the Conference, was, notwithstanding his feeble health, received into full connection, and ordained deacon, but was left without an appointment. The next year he sustained a supernumerary relation to the Conference, and was stationed in Athens, Ga., during which time he endeavored to render himself as useful as his health and strength would allow; but at last despairing of ever being able to do effective labor as a traveling minister, he located in 1828, much against his own inclination, and that of the Conference. Shortly after his location, he became united in marriage to Miss Bostwick of Milledgeville, Ga., a young lady of ardent piety, of lovely appearance, and of some wealth. He re-entered the traveling connection in 1832, by joining the Georgia Conference.

In the year 1830, Mr. Olin was elected Professor of English Literature in the University of Georgia, although his health still continued very poor, and he was barely able to attend to the daily recitations of his students. His popularity as a teacher was so great, that during the year 1833, he was elected President of Randolph Macon College, Virginia, and in the following year, he entered upon the responsible duties of his presidency; and although his fame had preceded him in taking charge of the institution, yet he more than met the expectation of his warmest admirers. In the spring of 1837, his health again failed, and in company with his beloved wife he set sail from America, for an extensive tour in Europe and Asia.

Having arrived at Paris, by way of Havre, he remained upward of a year in that city; and while there, the late celebrated Dr. Chalmers, of Scotland, visited the place, and Mr., now Dr. Olin, although in rather a precarious state of health, could not deny himself the privilege of hearing that great man preach, especially, as the two men were, in fact, very much alike in many particulars, as it relates to physical appearance and zeal in the pulpit.

Although cautioned against making the attempt, he ventured, and such was the effect of the sermon upon his exceedingly nervous system, that he immediately took to his bed, and had a severe illness of six weeks’ continuance, which all but carried him to the grave. Through the good providence of God, however, his health was so far restored, that he ventured to make a tour of England, Belgium, and Italy. While in the latter country, he had the misfortune to lose his beloved wife, an affliction doubly severe, as he was thus left alone in a land of strangers.

After spending three months in Rome, he turned his face to the East. He has left two volumes of “Travels in the East” of surpassing interest, and although it might be pleasant to the reader to quote largely from his work, our limits will only allow us to trace his course from one place to another, and refer to a few interesting incidents occurring during his travels.

Dr. Olin sailed from Athens for Alexandria, in Egypt, on the 19th day of December, 1839, on board the French war-steamer Lycurgus, and after a pleasant voyage of about a week, he found himself in the city of the Ptolemies. “We had no sooner reached the land,” says the doctor, “than a score of donkeys, and their drivers rushed towards us from all quarters, and we were nearly trampled under their feet, as well as stunned with loud vociferations, before we were able, with the help of a young Irishman connected with one of the hotels, to engage as many of these indispensable animals as were necessary to carry us through the narrow, dirty streets, to the quarter of the city inhabited by the Franks. Walking is quite out of the question with all who have any objection to being covered with mud, and jostled and trodden upon by loaded camels. One of these huge animals kneeled down upon the beach, alongside our boat, and waited patiently till our baggage was piled upon his back, and bound with ropes. “We then set off for our hotel, urging our way through dense crowds, whose strange looks and costumes, assured us that we were at length among a race of men unlike anything we had seen before. We passed through the bazaar, which I perambulated twice more in the course of the day. The streets are very narrow, and appear much more so, from projecting casements on either side, which nearly meet. The gloom is increased by awnings of boards, and sometimes of palm leaves, extending across the street, and forming a kind of roof, which excludes the rays of the sun, without, however being so well constructed as to shed rain. The goods are exhibited in stalls of very inconsiderable dimensions, open in front, and even with the street. The seller commonly sits cross-legged within upon a mat or carpet. The customer does not enter the stall, for which there is not sufficient room, but stands in the street while he examines the article which he wishes to purchase, and negotiates the price. When not engaged, the merchant commonly has a long pipe in his mouth, with the bowl resting on the ground. Clad in a long flowing robe, which is confined just above the hips with a broad, silken girdle, of the most showy colors, his head adorned with a huge white or scarlet turban, his legs uncovered almost to the knee, his feet also bare, or in red or yellow slippers, he sits listless and at ease. He makes no demonstrations of eagerness to sell his wares: he eyes you coldly — you are apt to think contemptuously, as you pass. He smokes deliberately and incessantly, and now and then strokes his long beard, which falls down upon his bosom. “An endless train of camels, laden with immense leathern bags full of water, building materials, sacks of floor, barrels of sugar, and everything, which in other regions is transported in carts, fills the narrow street, threatening to overturn you and your diminutive steed. A host of donkeys and their drivers; women, their legs bare to the knee, but with their faces carefully veiled; a promiscuous crowd of men of all colors, and all costumes — gorgeous, fantastic, wretched, many of them nearly naked — with their loud confused din of outcries and vociferations, form a scene that is quite indescribable. One’s head soon grows dizzy with the strange sights and strange sounds.”

We must leave the doctor’s description of the city, and accompany him on his visit to the Catacombs. “On our way, we encountered two funeral processions. The first was that of a small child. The body, in this instance, was deposited in a basket, and carried upon the shoulders by a man who preceded the rest of the company. A number of persons, perhaps a dozen, men and women, followed in rather a disorderly manner, looking about with the utmost unconcern, but chanting in mournful strains. The other funeral was much more numerously attended. The body, which was that of an adult person, was carried by four bearers upon a bier. There was no coffin, none being used in burying the dead in this country; instead of which, the corpse was dressed in grave-clothes, and covered with a large shawl. It was borne head foremost. A number of shabby-looking men went before the bier in a sort of straggling procession, chanting as they advanced. It was followed by a train of perhaps twenty or thirty women, who were veiled and clothed in white. Their dress and whole appearance were poor and mean, leaving one to conclude that the profession of mourner, to which they belonged, is not lucrative. They are said to get not more than one piaster — less than five cents per day. They sang a dirge in very melancholy and piercing tones, and their attitudes and gesticulations were those of vehement and overpowering grief. They tore their loose disordered hair, and smote their breasts with frantic violence, carefully avoiding, however, the infliction of serious injury, by staying their convulsive hands before they quite reached the head or bosom. The rending of the garments was done with similar violence, but with the same harmless results. A number of them carried in their hands blue handkerchiefs, or strips of cloth, which they alternately stretched across the shoulders or back of the neck, and then raised with both hands high above the head, jerking them with much apparent violence, though the worthless rags resisted their efforts, and received no damage.

This was all ludicrous enough. Another exhibition, equally characteristic of the manners of the country, which we met with in the same excursion, was much more serious. We were stopped by a large crowd, which quite filled the street near one of the public warehouses. I heard heavy blows, followed by piercing cries, in the midst of the throng of rather shabby-looking people. Urging on my donkey to the spot, I saw an athletic man inflicting merciless blows upon a female, with a heavy stick. She cried out piteously, but without any effect. The crowd looked on with interest, and apparent satisfaction, and no one attempted to interfere. I inquired of the young Arab whom we had employed as a dragoman, what was the meaning of this outrage. He answered with an air of great indifference, in his bad English: ‘It is an Arab man licking his woman.’ I asked him if this was a common practice. He answered, ‘Yes; the wife do bad, and the Arab lick ‘em.’ I afterward learned that this sort of domestic discipline, is universal in the country. No one supposes it is wrong, or that the conjugal relation can exist on better terms. A European lady, resident in Alexandria, who happened to be with us at the time, informed us that she had lately inquired of a favorite servant, after the health of his wife: ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘better than common the last two days,’ since he had given her a good flogging. She told him that Englishmen did not whip their wives. He replied that it was ‘indispensable to whip Arab women, otherwise their husbands could not live with them.’” After a visit to Mohammed Ali, Dr. Olin began to make preparations for a visit to Cairo; and after a rather unpleasant voyage on the Nile, he arrived at the point of debarkation on the 1st of January, l840. In this city he remained three weeks, busily employed in visiting the various objects interesting to the traveler, in and around the city. On the 7th, he visited the celebrated Pyramids of Ghizeh. The largest of these, the doctor describes as being 732 feet square, 474 feet in height, and covering nearly thirteen acres of ground, and being composed of 202 tiers of square blocks of limestone, each tier varying in thickness from two to four feet, and forming one of a series of steps from the bottom to the top, by which persons may safely ascend to the area of about thirty feet square on the summit of the pyramid. This pyramid, called the Pyramid of Cheops, is supposed to have been built 2123 B.C.

Dr. Olin one day met with a wedding party, in the streets of Cairo, which he thus describes: It was “composed of many persons mounted on donkeys and camels, with one or two elephants in the cavalcade, some fantastically dressed in many colors, some singing or playing on rustic musical instruments, some seated with their faces towards the tails of their animals, all boisterous and reckless, and using all sorts of waggish and comic arts to amuse the rabble. They were followed through the principal streets by a vast multitude, that completely closed up the way, and put a stop to all passing and, business. Nobody interfered with them, and they were allowed to keep up, as long as they pleased, a scene of uproar and confusion which in any other part of the world, would have been put down at once by the police. This forbearance on the part of the public authorities from interrupting the people in their humble enjoyments is a pleasing evidence that sentiments of kindness may be felt by the most tyrannical rulers, and that long-established customs may secure some trifling immunities, where political institutions afford no protection.”

Having visited all the curiosities in and around Cairo, the doctor and his company prepared themselves for a voyage up the Nile, and after spending some ten or twelve days in ascending this noted stream, and observing everything worthy of attention, the doctor soon found himself in view of the monuments of ancient Thebes, at which place he spent a number of weeks, visiting in the meanwhile, the Cataracts of the Nile in Upper Egypt, with numerous other curiosities of nature and art. When he had completed his observations in Upper Egypt, he descended the Nile to Cairo again, and soon began to make preparations for a journey across the desert, to Jerusalem, which he commenced on the 2d day of March, in company with a Mr. and Mrs. Cooly, and an English gentleman by the name of Carrington together with four other gentlemen, who afterward joined the company. The caravan consisted of about thirty camels, and nearly as many Bedouins to guide and take care of them, together with eight or ten servants — in all nearly fifty persons, and all armed to the teeth with guns, pistols, swords, knives, etc., with the exception of the doctor, who thought it full as safe to leave all “carnal weapons” behind. He had three camels for his own personal use, and the conveyance of his baggage and food in the desert. As an indispensable article, he was obliged to carry from twentyfive to thirty gallons of water, besides a tent and other articles of convenience.

On the 6th of March, our travelers reached Suez, a town of fifteen hundred, or two thousand inhabitants. This place was peculiarly interesting to the doctor, on account of its being in the neighborhood of the locality where God displayed his miraculous power in opening a way through the Red Sea, for the passage of the children of Israel, in their flight from the land of Egypt. After stopping a short time at this place, the caravan took up its line of march for Mount Sinai, in the neighborhood of which, the travelers arrived on the 13th. When they arrived in sight of the mountain, the doctor observes: “It was a time of profound, overwhelming emotion. I was on holy ground, and for the time seemed one of the living mass of millions who, three thousand years ago, stood upon this plain full of trembling and awe, with their faces turned towards the frowning, flaming battlements, where their captain had gone up to talk with the Lord. I could not withdraw my full eyes from the ‘Mount of God’ — the holy place where the Almighty had dwelt, and shown his glory; nor when I thought of the circumstances of terror and majesty with which he was pleased to invest his transient dwelling place, could I fix them steadily there.”

After resting in the convent during the night, Dr. Olin and a companion ascended the mountain, described by the resident monks as the true Mount Sinai of the Scriptures. The doctor felt convinced that the monks were in error in this particular, and on the 16th, he ascended the northern summit, which is no doubt the true “Mount of God;” and when on this summit of Sinai, he reverentially read the Decalogue which was first promulgated by the Almighty on that spot, amidst the thundering and lightnings of that solemn and awful occasion. After his ascent to Mount Sinai, the doctor visited the “Rock of Horeb,” and which he fully believed to be the one smitten by Moses, as described in the book of Exodus.

On the 18th of March, Dr. Olin resumed his journey toward Palestine. On his route he passed “Mount Hor,” and arriving at the ruins of Petra on the 30th, he remained for some time to examine the ancient remains of temples, tombs, etc. etc. While here, he was greatly annoyed by a set of savage Bedouins, whose sole business appeared to be to tease and annoy the traveler by attempting to extort money under the pretense of acting as guides, guards, etc. As a portion of the account is interesting and somewhat amusing, we will give it in the doctor’s words. “The morning after my arrival, I succeeded in reaching the north extreme of the valley, before my absence was discovered, but I soon perceived a most villainous robber-looking man approaching, armed with a long knife and matchlock. As I was quite out of sight of the camp, I reconnoitered the savage with some attention. He soon attempted to make his benevolent object known, though I did not at first understand him, nor feel very sure of his intentions and character, as he came from an opposite direction to that of our camp. In order to aid me in comprehending the import of his communication, which I afterwards learned was to inform me that I was in imminent danger without a guide, he drew his knife, and went through all the forms of cutting his own throat, and then raised his crazy old gun to his face, pointing it directly at me, to signify that I was as likely to be shot as butchered. I made him comprehend as well as I could, that I had no fears, and should break the head of any Arab, who might render such an act expedient. He continued to accompany me, a measure to which, as I could not possibly prevent it, I at last consented. — I took care for some time to keep him in advance, and always in my eye. “I had hardly become reconciled to such company, before a second man made his appearance with similar objects and claims. I insisted on his leaving me with so much earnestness, that he at last stopped, but stood for some minutes as if doubtful whether to go away, or stay by me. I made him understand, that I would give him no bucksheesh though he followed me all day; and the other man fearing that his own pay might be diminished, aided me so effectually, that the warrior at length left us. A little before sunset of the same day, I had walked from the camp, to examine the theater not far distant in the mouth of Wady Syke; and having paid my guide for the day and dismissed him, was alone. Soon I perceived the discarded applicant for my patronage in the morning, coming towards me accompanied by two other armed Arabs. He at first urged me to go farther into the gorge, which I of course declined. He then demanded bucksheesh for having guarded me through the northern part of the valley in the morning. I told him he had not served me, and I would give him nothing. He spoke to his companions, then turned again to me, repeated his demand with much violence of language and gesture, all three at the same time advancing towards me with a threatening aspect. I had not So much as a stick for defense; but I answered sternly and loudly, at the same time walking quickly towards them, and raising my hand with an air, from which they might infer that my bosom was full of deadly weapons. These fellows take it for granted, that all Franks are well armed, and they reverence nothing so much as percussion locks, which, indeed, are dangerous antagonists to their crazy matchlocks. They retreated precipitately at this bravado, and left me to my occupation.”

On the 2d of April, the doctor left Petra, Passing Mount Hor, where Aaron the brother of Moses died, he proceeded to the site of ancient Carmel, and on the 7th reached Hebron, where after making a short stay, he proceeded to Bethlehem, the birthplace of the Saviour of the world, and on the 9th entered the city of Jerusalem. A day or two previously, the doctor had received a severe injury in his back by a fall from his camel, and when he arrived at Jerusalem, he was scarcely able to support himself. He proceeded directly to the house of one of the American missionaries, where he was cordially received by the Rev. Mr. Lannean, who at once recognized the doctor, and called him by name. Here the doctor was confined to his bed for eight days, receiving in the meantime, all the care and attention possible, from the kindhearted missionaries of the Presbyterian and Episcopal Churches, and on Good Friday, he had the unspeakable privilege of partaking of the Lord’s Supper, on Mount Zion, there being a large number of strangers present from Great Britain, Germany, and the United State together with the resident Protestants and missionaries. The services were conducted principally by clergymen of the English Church, Dr. Olin assisting in the same.

After gaining sufficient strength, Dr. Olin began his work of examining all that is interesting in, and around Jerusalem, and on the 20th made an excursion to Jericho, on the occasion of an annual festival which is held for the purpose of commemorating the baptism of Christ in the River Jordan.

The number of persons encamped before Jericho on the occasion, was estimated by him at 2500, including a singular variety of languages and costumes. There were Copts, Greeks, Armenians, Catholics, and Protestants, from almost every Christian nation under heaven, the most of them pilgrims, who had assembled for the purpose of engaging in the ceremonies and bathing in the sacred stream. Having visited the Jordan, our traveler turned his course to the Dead Sea, where he tested, as nearly all travelers do, the buoyancy of its waters. Having satisfied his curiosity thus far, he returned again to Jerusalem.

On the 27th of April, Dr. Olin and company bade farewell to the Holy City, on their return to the Mediterranean and after passing through different places of interest and note, worthy the attention of the Christian traveler, they arrived at Beyrout [now Beirut, Lebanon] in Syria. After leaving the latter place, they sailed for Smyrna, where they arrived safely on the 25th of May, but where before landing, they were condemned to a fifteen days, quarantine, which expiring on the 9th of June, they immediately took passage for Constantinople. Here Dr. Olin was seized with a fever, which confined him for eight days, part of the time in a miserable, filthy hotel, until he removed to the residence of the Rev. Mr. Hamlin, the American missionary, where he experienced all possible kindness and attention, and where he unexpectedly met as the wife of Mr. Hamlin, a young lady, with whom he had been formerly acquainted in Dorset, Vermont, a few miles from his own native town. After his recovery, he spent about a week in Constantinople, when he sailed for Vienna, in Austria, passing through the Black Sea, and up the river Danube. He arrived in the capital of the Austrian dominions on the 13th of August where he was again seized with a raging fever. Here too, he experienced unremitting attention, from the missionaries of the American Board, and after a month’s confinement he took his departure for Switzerland; from thence to Paris; and crossing the Channel, he found himself in London; and after spending a week in that city, he was again prostrated by sickness, but his strength again rallied, and on the 4th of October he sailed for Boston in the steamer Acadia, when after a rough, but otherwise pleasant and short passage, he once more set foot on the shores of his native land.

I have thus followed Dr. Olin on his Eastern tour, and after passing through many dangers, he is again restored to the bosom of the Church of his choice, and by that Church is received with open arms and affectionate sympathy, after an absence of over three years. We shall now lose sight of him as a tourist and traveler, and trace his subsequent career as a minister and teacher.

As his health was still poor, he thought it inadvisable to take up his residence in the South; consequently, in 1842, he accepted the Presidency of the Wesleyan University, in Middletown, Conn., which important relation he retained for nine years, until the close of life. He entered upon his duties with an enlightened zeal, and well supplied the place of the lamented Fisk, in that important institution. Feeling lonely in his widowhood, he was, in 1843, united in marriage to Miss Lynch, the daughter of the Hon. Judge Lynch, of New York city, with whom he spent the remainder of his life pleasantly and happily. While employed as President of the University, he did not content himself merely with going through the routine of duties peculiar to his station, although these were sufficiently onerous and burdensome, but he was in the habit of traveling extensively, especially in the Northern and Eastern States, in waking up the minds of both preachers and people, in behalf of the cause of education.

The ministers of the various Annual Conferences, patronizing the Middletown University, will long remember with pleasure and gratitude, his pious efforts in this direction. One occasion the author especially remembers, when the doctor, addressing the Black River Conference, in reference to the importance of the Methodist Church providing the means of education for the young, exclaimed in substance, “Must our children suffer, because they are the children of Methodist parents? Shall our son, doomed to ignorance for want of proper facilities to acquire knowledge, rise up, at some future day, and exclaim, with sorrow. ‘I too might have been educated, but, — my father was aMETHODIST!’” It was not only in the cause of education that Dr. Olin, during his presidency, exerted himself, but the Bible cause, the missionary cause, and all other benevolent enterprises are greatly indebted to his tongue and pen, for an advocacy of their respective objects and claims. Since his return from the East also, he has been in the habit of using his pen. His “Travels in the East” have been greatly admired, and have met with extensive circulation. His written addresses to the students and graduates of the University, are unequaled in power of thought; and no doubt many a young man has been saved to the Church and the ministry, by a perusal of the same. It is understood also, that he has left a large number of manuscripts of various kinds, which will no doubt, before long, be given to the Christian public.

During Dr. Olin’s connection with the University, he was subject to occasional attacks of disease, and while the exercises of the commencement in 1851 were being held, he was suddenly prostrated upon the bed of sickness. During his illness, a promising son was torn away from the embrace of his parents by death, and in a few days after, the noble form of the father became cold and lifeless, and was borne away to the silence of the tomb. He died at his residence in Middletown, Conn., of typhoid fever, on the 16th day of August, 1851, in the fifty-fourth year of his age, and twenty-seventh of his ministry. His remains were interred in the College cemetery, near those of the lamented Dr. Fisk.

Dr. Olin’s death produced a degree of sadness throughout the length and breadth of the land, not only in the bosom of the Methodist Church, where he was best known, and perhaps best loved, but all evangelical Christians seemed to feel that the universal Church had suffered a serious and irreparable loss in the death of this truly great man; and even the citizens of the nation, as may be inferred from the tone of the secular press, felt that one of nature’s choicest specimens of manhood had been cut down in the midst of his usefulness.

We have called Dr. Olin a great man. This is emphatically true of him in every respect, whether we view him as a man, a citizen, a scholar, a Christian, or a Christian minister. He was a self-made man; for although born of honorable parents, he was obliged to depend upon his own resources, principally, for all the knowledge which he ever acquired; and when we take into consideration his continued ill-health, and his frequent attacks of disease, is it not wonderful that such a man should have accomplished so much in so short a space of time? Dr. Olin’s “physical and mental proportions were alike gigantic. His intellect was of that imperial rank to which but few of the sons of men can lay claim. At once acute, penetrating, and profound, it lacked none of the elements of true mental greatness. We have known many men far superior to him in acquired learning; but for breadth and comprehensiveness of range, for vigor and richness of thought, for fertility and abundance of invention, we have never met his equal. The great things that he did in preaching, in talking, in writing for the last thirty years of his life, were accomplished rather by observation and thought, than by reading or study; of these his uncertain health made him incapable. Yet his acquisitions were of no mean order; a broad and deep foundation had been laid in the severe studies of his youth and earlier manhood; and he had a wonderful sort of intuition, if such it may he called, into all forms of human thought and knowledge. His judgment was so profound that in all subjects of an ethical, political, or religious character, his “a priori” judgments were of more value than most other men’s conclusions on the largest collection of facts could be. “But grand as was Dr. Olin’s intellectual being, his moral life was still grander. So overshadowing, indeed, was its majesty, that we can hardly contemplate any portion of his nature apart from it. The whole truth, were we to set it down as our eyes see it, would perhaps be judged by those who did not know Dr. Olin, to be but another addition to the fond exaggerations of friendship. We see so much earthliness in men — even in men of deservedly high name and station, that it is hard to believe in a life free from this base alloy. If man can be free from it, he was. He walked on in the daily path of life, spending his great mind in the service of the humblest of his fellows, more cheerfully than if he had been serving kings — in the world, working for the world, but not of it. Presenting in himself an embodiment of the loftiest ideal of human purity and love, it was the effort of his life to raise others to breathe in his own celestial heights.

Not that he felt himself to be thus elevated. The crowning beauty of his whole nature was its humility. Severe as was his virtue, he knew too well, that after all, it was not his even to know or think himself more virtuous than others. And so, charity, the meek attendant of humility, was ever by his side. In all things else but intellectual and moral pride, he would have been a fit companion for those great spirits that taught of old in the Stoa, or discoursed of virtue and beauty in the groves of the Academy. He had their supreme love of truth — he had their profound contempt for all that is low, groveling, and earthly, — he had, too, what they had not: a clear apprehension of the relation between man and his Creator, and a deep sense of the corruption and debasement of humanity, as estranged from God. And the basis of his high morality was laid in pure religion — in an humble and total self-consecration to the service of God his Creator, and in a most ardent love of Christ his Redeemer. He had but one aim in life — to realize a high degree of Christian holiness, and so to promote Christ’s kingdom upon earth.

To this point all his studies tended, — for this, all his intellectual treasures were lavished, — for this, he freely spent his worldly goods, — to this, he devoted health, and strength, and life. “The highest style of man, is that which combines a loving heart with high intellectual and moral power. A more genial and affectionate nature than Stephen Olin’s, we never knew. His religious affections overflowed in the broadest Christian sympathy for the race; while upon his family and friends, he lavished a wealth of love which few men are endowed with. His social life was all affection and tenderness. His friendship! O how pure, and deep, and ardent it was! Could we unveil the inner sanctuary in which the sacred things of love and friendship are, and must be, guarded, we could show many a treasure — all the fruit of his overflowing heart.

With his friends there was no restraint or reserve . His whole heart was poured forth in the gushing flow of sympathy. He delighted, too, in all the manifestations of affection — ‘in the detail of feeling — in the outward and visible signs of the sacrament within — to count, as it were, the very pulses of the life of love.’ “With such qualities of mind and heart, it is not wonderful that he was pre-eminent as a preacher. In overmastering power in the pulpit, we doubt whether living, he had a rival, or dying, has left his like among men. Nor did his power consist in any single quality — in force of reasoning, or fire of imagination, or heat of declamation — but in all combined. His course of argument was always clear and strong, yet interfused throughout with a fervent and glowing passion — the two inseparably united in a torrent that overwhelmed all that listened to him. His was indeed, the ‘Seraphic intellect and force, To seize and throw the doubts of man; Impassioned logic which outran The hearer, in its fiery course.’” As a pulpit orator, Dr. Olin had indeed few, if any equals; the few sermons, addresses, speeches, etc., which the author has had the privilege of listening to, as falling from the doctor’s hallowed lips, have left an irresistible impression upon his mind, that as the like he never heard before, so the like he will never hear again from the lips of mortal man. Nor is the author alone, in forming this estimation of Dr. Olin as a preacher — the Rev. Dr. Wightman, of South Carolina, in speaking of a number of sermons which he had heard Dr. Olin preach, remarks that they were the grandest exhibitions of intellectual power and gracious unction which were ever witnessed in this, or any other country. “The like,” says the doctor, “we despair of ever hearing again on earth. Even then, the working of his mighty intellect reminded you of a steam-engine, of vast power, set up in a frail framework, which trembled with every stroke of the piston, and revolution of the wheels. The whole of this prodigious movement was pervaded with so remarkable a simplicity of spirit, and so utter an absence of the least appearance of self-glorification; — the preacher was so evidently, so thoroughly absorbed in his subject, so swept onward by a resistless desire to have the Gospel made the power of God to the salvation of his hearers, that no lingering suspicion ever darkened the mind that he was playing the orator. You would as soon have looked to see the waters of the Niagara pause to dally with the wild flowers on the margin, as have entertained the remotest suspicion that Dr. Olin was paying the least attention to the rhetorical fringes of his sentences, or putting himself, or the elaborate composition of the sermon forward as an object of admiration.

Indeed, you had time for nothing but to tremble, while he unlocked the mysterious chambers of the heart, and let in daylight upon your dim moral perceptions; or to lay hold upon Christ, as he made the way of justification by faith plain, and led you on to Jesus the Mediator of the new Covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, in a path all luminous with the light of life; or to exult with a believer’s bounding joy, while he pointed out the massy [massive] structure of your Christianity — its base, durable as eternity — its capital, high as heaven, and lost in the splendors of God’s throne.

Astonishing was the effect occasionally produced by his preaching. We have known instances of clear and happy conversion, while he was delivering a sermon. A memorable instance of the power he wielded, occurred in one of the towns of Georgia. His text was, ‘If when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more being reconciled we shall be saved by his life.’ An indescribable awe seized the congregation while he unfolded the glorious peculiarities of the Christian scheme of salvation, and scores literally rushed to the altar, when he finished the discourse.