First Years as Professor

STDIST YEAES OF PEOFESSOESHIP HEALTH — THEOLOGICAL STUDIES NUM-BERS FISCAL CAEES REVIVAL IN COLLEGE — PEEAOHING SPIEITUAL

COUNSELS — VIEGINIA — DE. HOGE — DOMESTIC HABITS.

IN the early years of his life as a professor, Dr. Alexander began to endure trials in regard to health, which were destined to overhang him during the whole middle period of his activity. Princeton, a place proverbially healthful, so as to deserve Witherspoon’s appellation, as the Montpellier of America, is nevertheless like that salubrious town of France exposed to the sweep of angry winds, especially about the breaking up of winter. To this influence, his delicately sensitive temperament was peculiarly open. The east winds of March and April harrowed his constitution, and produced a train of most distressing symptoms, chilliness, nervous perturbation and dyspepsy. At this time began that morbid wakefulness, which kept him often whole nights without refreshment. He became thin and haggard, and except in some short intervals this was his condition for many years. It was however more a general malaise than a serious disability, 386 PKIVATE TOILS.

by which he was harassed, and he seldom made these ailments a reason for abstaining from duty, either at home or abroad. Indeed he rather sought a solace in more intense occupation of mind, which in turn increased and perpetuated the evil. His southern friends began to ponder on these appearances. “I have ever believed,” wrote the Rev. John H. Rice, “that your present situation is better adapted to your habits of feeling and of previous study, than any other in the Presbyterian Church; and have regarded you as more usefully employed than any other man in our society. Nothing could make me wish a removal, selfish as I am, but a regard for your health — may I not add your life. I do not believe that the climate suits you. If, however, you could be as usefully placed any where to the South, I should think it your duty to remove; or if it were certain that you cannot for want of health discharge or sustain the duties of your office, I should think that another habitation ought to be sought. What may be the result of certain schemes which I now have in view, I cannot tell, and therefore I will not communicate them.”*

This was the time of his arduous labour and rapid accumulation. With a restless activity he pushed his inquiries far beyond the field of his prescribed course, which was sufficiently extensive. From this time forward he lost no opportunity of procuring every accessible volume of Latin theology, belonging to the German, French, Dutch and Helvetic schools; of these an unusual store may be seen on

* Rev. John H. Rice to Dr. Alexander, May 4, 1817.

the shelves of the Seminary collection.”* Nor did he confine himself to dogmatic or polemic works, but read largely in the departments of Criticism and Hermeneutics. During all his life he manifested a strong turn for languages, which was now indulged in connection with his exegetical studies and instructions. His careful application to the Hebrew and Greek texts was continued as long as he lived. He assaulted the Arabic, but as he said with little proficiency. In Syriac he made further advances; and we remember the lessons in this language which he gave to a student of 1815, afterwards widely known as the Keverend Thomas Charlton Henry, D. D., of Charleston. His children were enlisted in the work of copying, and we have a manuscript on Hebrew Archaeology, in the yet unformed hand of one of his sons. The reigning controversies of the day awakened his lively attention, and he repeatedly dipped into the Greek and Roman classics, and even into works on mathematical and physical science. It was characteristic of his habits to seek mental relaxation in a change of grave studies, rather than in what is denominated light reading, and for many years nothing

* It is with a pensive interest that the writer remembers having noted at Leyden, for the entertainment of his father, the series of portraits, executed in the best Dutch style, of those worthies, in learning and science as well as religion, whose names he had so often heard at home; for instance, of Joseph Scaliger, Salmasius, Heinsius, Boerhaave, “Wesselius, Cocceius, “Wittichius, Hoornbeeck, Yan Til, three of the family of Schultens, Euhnkenius, Havercamp, Wyttenbach, “Wynpersse, Yan Yoorst, Perizonius, Witsius, Hemsterhuis, De Moor, and Schultingius; also of Yorstius, and Arminius and Episcopius, side by side; information which, alas! never came to the ear for which it was intended.

was more common than to find his evening hours spent over some ponderous tome of the seventeenth century. His pen was constantly in activity, and we have been astonished at the extent to which he made compilations and digests from standard works in other languages. By slow degrees his body of lectures on divinity was growing into shape; while, as has been said, he preferred on many accounts to express his thoughts in the lecture-room in the unfettered diction of the moment. Neither now nor at any later period was he much addicted to modern fiction or modern poetry. Without being a politician he was always a reader on politics, thoroughly acquainted with all questions of American statesmanship, and all his life long a serious and diligent student of the best journals; for, like Dr. Arnold, he considered “a newspaper one of the most painful and solemn studies in the world, if it be read thoughtfully.” In a word, every thing showed the vigour and spring of a manly spirit, making trial of its best and as yet un wasted energies.

The number of students during these years was constantly on the increase. The matriculations were in 1812, nine; in 1813, sixteen; in 1814, fifteen; in 1815, twenty-two; in 1816, twenty-six; and in 1817, twenty-three. Among these were some who are living as ornaments of our own and other churches, including two bishops of -the Protestant Episcopal Church, in Virginia and Ohio. “The true heraldry of the college,” says Chalmers, “is her sons.” The Princeton Seminary has no reason to be ashamed of her escutcheon. Among those who still survive, it is a pleasing duty to name, as falling within this period, the Rev. Henry R.

Weed, D. D., of Wheeling, and the Rev. William Blain, of Hudson Presbytery, two of the first three alumni; Professor Hooper, of the Baptist Church; the Rev. John Barnard, of New- York; the Rev. Dr. Howe, of the Reformed Dutch Church; the Rev. Dr. Swift, of Pittsburgh; the Rev. Dr. Biggs, of Cincinnati; the Rev. Doctors Henry, Snodgrass, Chester, Hodge, Sprague and Magie, and Bishops Johns and Mcllvaine. But nearly thirty from these six classes are no more on earth. President Chamberlain, of Oakland College, belongs to this number, a man of talents and energy, who came to a tragical end. Professor Graham, of the Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, died almost at the same time with his venerated preceptor. Larned, a prodigy of early eloquence, whose name is often mentioned with those of Whitefield and Summerfield, shone brightly for a few years, and then closed his career, in New Orleans. Nevins, of Baltimore, will never be forgotten by any who esteem childlike piety, united to genius, wit, and oratorical impression. Newbold, of 1816, was the first of a long catalogue, who devoted themselves to foreign missions; he was cut down while meditating a life of hard service on the frontiers of Russia and Tartary. With these, and with all his students, especially while their number was small, Dr. Alexander maintained the most intimate relations. They had constant access to his fireside and his study; and were aided by him in their pursuits, and encouraged to propound difficulties and scruples for his resolution. While as yet there was no church-scheme for the education of young ministers, a certain number of the students were sustained by the voluntary contributions of

churches and individuals; and the sums for this purpose to a large extent passed through his hands. Having assumed this labour when he was the only professor, he continued it to the close of his life. As the numbers increased, and as the sums came in irregularly as to time and unequally as to amount, the administration of these funds became embarrassing, and but for habits of the most rigorous exactness in accounts would have been onerous in the extreme. At a later period the founding of scholarships, and the digested plans of the Assembly’s Board of Education, placed this department of labour on a surer basis. But the whole affair brought the professor into a close and often tender relation to deserving youth, who confided their necessities to him, and never failed to find in him a gentle and sympathizing friend.

In this connection may be noticed his endeavours to gather a library for the institution. At first, the few cart-loads of old, second-hand, often odd volumes, raked together from studies and garrets, scarcely deserved the name of a library. We well remember when the whole collection was contained in the professor’s study. The gift of Walton’s Polyglott, by the Kev. Dr. Green, was the first token of any thing like a literary apparatus. In later days the munificence of Mr. Lenox, Dr. Sprague, Mr. Agnew and the Messrs. Stuarts, has caused a happy change; but it is still to be lamented that the churches at large are supine upon this important subject. Public libraries will generally be the exponent of the degree of scientific and literary advancement in a Seminary. The liberality of donors should be invited to this object. But the number is small of those who estimate the necessity; and zeal for great libraries always infers a high measure of literary cultivation. In regard to this, we have become accustomed to hear the most narrow and grovelling opinions, from the lips even of clergymen and so-called scholars; as if the only intent of a library was to furnish pabulum for the undergraduates. For almost forty years Dr. Alexander was himself the librarian, and he never relaxed his exertions to make the collection more worthy of the place it occupied.

At this time, it must be remembered, no buildings had been erected for the use of the Seminary. When the number of students became too great to be accommodated in the houses of the professors, they resorted to the public rooms of the College, which, as well as the library of that institution, were hospitably thrown open for their use. During a part of the time, also, the students of the two seminaries, and the village congregation worshipped together in the old college chapel, which is now a gallery of paintings; this was when the Princeton church had been consumed by fire. In this place Dr. Alexander delivered many impressive discourses, which are remembered by persons now living. At one time he received a message from Dr. Chalmers, enjoining it upon him to regard his professorial work as a business sufficient for the powers of any one man, and not to wear out his strength with preaching; but such was the demand for his pulpit labours, that he was as little able to abide by this rule, as was Chalmers himself, when afterwards he assumed the chair of instruction.

About the beginning of the year 1815, there was a general religious awakening in the College of New Jersey. “The divine influence’’’ — we use the language of President Green — “seemed to descend like the silent dew of heaven; and in about four weeks, there were few individuals in the college edifice who were not deeply impressed with a sense of the importance of spiritual and eternal things. There was scarcely a room — perhaps not one — which was not a place of earnest secret devotion!” More than forty students gave favourable evidence of conversion. Among these were a number who afterwards became members of the theological institution, and some who rose to eminence in the ministry. Such an event could not but extend its marked influence to the Seminary. The students of divinity were much engaged in labours and prayer among the youth of the college, and a corresponding solemnity and tenderness were spread over both bodies. Dr. Alexander and his colleague were largely engaged in rendering aid to Dr. Green, by repeated sermons and exhortations, and still more by private counsels, to such as were affected with their earliest spiritual distresses and joys. It was a period never to be forgotten by those who witnessed its remarkable impressions and transformations. Though a still greater revival had occurred in the preceding century, there has been none so extensively affecting the college in any later year. After this, as from time to time the churches of New Jersey and the bordering states were visited with similar refreshings, the seminary professors were accustomed with gladness to give permission to their students, to visit these scenes of grace, for the increase of their experimental knowledge, as well as for the exercise of their gifts. They also made preaching excursions themselves, as far as their home labours allowed; and at such times, and more frequently at sacramental gatherings, Dr. Alexander was wont to break forth in warm and melting harangues, not inferior to the bursting effusions of his youth. For notwithstanding the increasing delicacy of his health, he could endure an extraordinary amount of labour and excitement; and he certainly never seemed so happy or so much raised above himself, as when amidst listening crowds he was proclaiming the boundless riches of salvation.

It was during this lapse of years that he began to be widely known as a spiritual adviser, and to be consulted by distressed minds, on cases of conscience and other spiritual griefs. Without ever seeking this — for he always seemed to assume the place of an adviser with reluctance — he continued all his life to exercise great influence, perhaps his chief influence, in this quiet department of Christian service. For such work he was eminently fitted by his singular caution and wisdom, his personal trials of heart, his deep acquaintance with the inward workings of grace, his sensibility and tenderness in regard to the afflicted, and his characteristic secresy and silence about all that was confided to him. Cases of this sort were constantly arising among his own pupils, and those who had lately been such. As he advanced in life, these confidential applications, both in person and by letter, were surprisingly increased, until the labour became almost burdensome. But it was undoubtedly by this very means, noiseless and unobtrusive as it was, rather than by

formal teaching, by sermons, or by authorship, that he built up that character and attained that influence, which were so universally recognised in the church. He lives now, in the memory of great numbers, especially of the clergy, as eminently a wise counsellor and a spiritual guide. In regard to such communications, his reticency was almost extreme, and of his large correspondence on such topics, he committed every vestige to the flames.

While we are alluding to his influence in the Presbyterian Church, some other particulars merit a passing notice. It was not yet by written works, for his career of publication had not yet commenced. The moulding power which he was already beginning to wield, and which has never been denied even by those who viewed it with dissatisfaction, operated in more silent ways; by the truth communicated to his successive classes, and the impressions left on their character; by a large and valuable correspondence, the very delicacy of which has prevented its appearance more largely in these pages; by ministerial visits, and in his more active years by journeys; by the weight of opinion and argument in church-courts, and by the perpetual force of his evangelical preaching, in which he never relaxed till the very end.

The year 1817 brought to him a singular gratification, in a visit from his venerated friend, the Kev. Moses Hoge, D. D. The life of Dr. Hoge belongs so much to the history of the Southern Church, that we feel justified in adding to what has already been said some particulars from another manuscript.” Moses Hoge was the son of a very intelligent, orthodox and pious farmer, who spent the early part of his life in Pennsylvania, within the bounds of the Philadelphia Presbytery. With this aged man the writer, when very young, was providentially led into an acquaintance. Travelling in 1791, he had the misfortune to have bis horse badly foundered, and was left by his company at the house of Mr. Solomon Hoge, in Frederick County, Virginia, with whom the old gentleman then lived at the advanced age of eighty-four years. Nearly the whole of several days was spent in listening to Mr. Hoge’s explanation of his views on a number of points in theology; and the writer can declare that he never in any equal time, as he now thinks, derived so much light as from this aged farmer. He told me, that when grown to manhood he deliberately and seriously sat down and went through the Westminster Confession of Faith, to see whether the doctrines were founded in Scripture; and after a careful examination of this formulary, he was able to adopt the whole, as indeed the truths taught in the Word of God. He was often present at the meetings of the Philadelphia Presbytery. His judgment in regard to most of the members was not very favourable; the individual whom he valued most was a Mr. Wilson, whom he said the others were continually persecuting on some account or other. The Presbyterian Church was that in which Mr. Hoge had been born, baptized and educated, and with which he first joined in communion; and in this he continued, until the Synod passed the act called the ( Adopting Act, which indulged such persons as were scrupulous in regard to certain articles to express their exceptions to the Presbytery, who were permitted to license and ordain, if they judged the matter not to be of essential importance. When this act was passed, it gave great dissatisfaction, and some, the number of whom cannot be determined, left the Presbyterian Church, and joined the Seceders, who were then beginning to raise their standard. Among these was Mr. Hoge. This fact, so far as my recollection serves me, was not communicated to me by the old gentleman, but by his son the Kev. Dr. Hoge. And I am certain that when the communication was made, I had never heard of such an Act, nor could ever obtain sight of it until the last minutes of the Old Synod were published a few years since.

“Moses Hoge was considerably advanced in manhood when he commenced the study of the Latin language; but by diligence and assiduous application he made up for the loss of early instruction. Nor had his mind previously been left uncultivated. Being of a sedate and studious turn he read many books, by which his understanding was strengthened and enriched with various knowledge. It has often happened, as we have seen in the case of Mr. Graham himself, that a late commencement of classical studies does not result in an imperfect or superficial scholarship. He became an accurate and profound scholar, and acquired a perfection of mental discipline to which very few attain. Having laid a good foundation in Latin and Greek, he resorted to the academy of Mr. Graham, where he pursued his studies with indefatigable industry, and exhibited that purity, meekness and devotedness of Christian character, which conciliated the esteem of all who knew him. Here, also, under Mr.

Graham’s direction, he studied divinity, and was in due time licensed to preach the Gospel by the Presbytery of Hanover, then the only one in Virginia.

“Although Mr. Hoge’s talents were of the first order, and his knowledge was accurate and extensive, he had a poor delivery. His voice was husky and irregular in its intonations, and the muscles of his face were subject to a peculiar and visible excitement while he was speaking. When, therefore, he obtained licensure, he did not seek any conspicuous situation. He went and spent some time under the roof of the Kev. Dr. Waddel, then the most celebrated pulpit orator in Virginia. What benefit he derived from intercourse with this great and good man is not known, but it is certain that he ever afterwards entertained for him the highest veneration and the greatest admiration of his talents. Indeed, Dr. Waddel excelled in private conversation as much as in the pulpit, and was always ready to disclose his own views and sentiments to young students and ministers with the utmost freedom.

“Wishing to be useful in conveying the precious message of the Gospel to the destitute, Mr. Hoge had his attention directed to a part of the country on the South Branch of the Potomac, where was a tract of very fertile land, and where a number of Presbyterian families had settled, but where no minister of the Gospel had ever resided. Here he laboured assiduously for several years, in the study and in the pulpit. It was his habit to write every sermon and commit it to memory. At first he cultivated an elegant and rather flowery style; but finding that he thus shot over the heads of his people, some of whom were of German descent, and imperfectly acquainted with the English language, he changed his manner of preaching so as to accommodate himself to the capacity of his hearers. In this sequestered situation, Mr. Hoge was deprived of all literary and refined society, and was very far removed from his brethren in the ministry, and from the meetings of the Presbytery, which he nevertheless felt it to be his duty to attend. An opening [for removal] occurred at Shepherdstown, in Berkeley County, by the dismission of the Rev. John McKnight to Pennsylvania. The congregation at Shepherdstown was small, but intelligent and highly respectable. He had, however, to come after a man much admired for pulpit eloquence. Mr. McKnight composed his sermons with great care, and after committing them to memoiy, delivered them in a very pleasing and animated manner. As to mere elocution, Mr. Hoge fell immeasurably behind his predecessor; but he possessed qualities which in the esteem of judicious men more than compensated for his want of eloquence. He had a pure and ardent spirit of piety, and always fed his flock with sound evangelical truth, thoroughly digested and prepared before it was exhibited. He had also an invaluable habit of watching for opportunities to be useful. Into whatsoever company he came, he always aimed to say something which he hoped would be useful. Shepherdstown was at that time under the care of the Carlisle Presbytery, but Mr. Hoge was a member of the Lexington Presbytery. He received, therefore, from the former body, a letter inquiring by what authority he occupied a vacant congregation under their care, without their permission. Mr. Hoge wrote back a letter replete with Christian feeling and good sense, and with some sprinkling of wit. He continued, however, in connection with the Lexington Presbytery, to which were annexed, some time after, all the churches in the Valley south of the Potomac.

“Mr. Hoge remained in this place until the year 1807, when he received an invitation to become president of Hampden Sidney College, where* he spent the remainder of his days. Soon after his removal to that place the germ of the theological school was formed, and he was appointed professor of theology by the Hanover Presbytery; and a number of young men had the privilege of receiving his instructions in theology. This was the origin of the Union Theological Seminary, which has since risen to importance, chiefly by the unwearied exertions of the Kev. John H. Rice, D. D.

“In the year 1810, Mr. Hoge was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity by the College of New Jersey. On account of his extreme modesty in regard to his own attainments, this was quite unexpected, but it has seldom fallen on one who more truly deserved it. His success in conducting the college was equal to any reasonable expectations. The institution being almost entirely without funds, and having fallen into much irregularity as to the usual order of classes, gave some difficulties to one who had himself never enjoyed the privilege of going regularly through a college course.

“Asa preacher, Dr. Hoge was much admired by spiritual and judicious persons. Men who had never been accustomed

to Presbyterian preaching, attended with delight on his ministry. Among these was the late eloquent out eccentric John Randolph; who about this time had come under serious impressions of religion. Mr. Randolph courted the acquaintance of Dr. Hoge, and entered freely into conversation with him. During this period of his life, Dr. Hoge preached without writing his sermons, and commonly without much previous study; but he pursued trains of thought which had become familiar to him. The charm of his preaching was the strong genuine feeling by which he appeared to be actuated in all that he said; giving himself up to such sentiments as at the moment rose in his mind; and his pious emotions during utterance were often exceedingly strong. But he was never hurried by his feelings into any thing like rant or extravagance. He never lost the balance of his mind, but preserved that sobriety and solemnity which are always wanting where extraordinary excitement takes place. He was fond of casuistical preaching, aiming by nice discriminating marks to remove the perplexities and doubts which he found to be common among the good people of the region where he now laboured. Perhaps he carried these searching disquisitions too far, and multiplied the evidences of sincerity too much. All who were acquainted with Dr. Hoge admitted that they had never known a man whose whole character both as a Christian and a minister was more unexceptionable and consistent. He seemed habitually to retain on his mind a sense of the Divine presence, and was ever ready to engage in the most spiritual conversation. He was condescending and patient in dealing with the most ignorant who wished for instruction, and seldom lost an opportunity of addressing a word of instruction or exhortation to any servant who might be waiting on him. He seldom met with ill treatment from any, and never indulged in angry or resentful feelings. In regard to the things of this world, I never knew a man more indifferent. Indeed he did not suffer his mind to be harassed with cares of this kind. During a large part of his life his salary was very small, but he was contented in every condition, and trusted in Providence amidst all circumstances. He might indeed have turned his attention to farming, as was the practice of most of his brethren in Virginia. But he had set out with the determination to devote his whole time to the work of the ministry, trusting Providence for a support; and he advised all young clergymen who consulted him, to pursue the same course. He however never censured such as did otherwise. While president, he suffered no young man who was seeking the ministry to go away for want of support. To all pious youth his purse and his house were open, and he treated them with all the kindness of a father and all the familiarity of a friend or a brother. His influence on young men was exceedingly salutary. When he found them self-confident and dogmatical, he would not attempt to repress this disposition in any other way than by free discussion, and by showing them difficulties in their own theories, which probably had never occurred to them.

“Though his health had been declining for some time, Dr. Hoge was induced, in the year 1817, to undertake a journey to the north. He had a particular desire to meet once in 402 VISIT OF DR. HOGE.

his life with the American Bible Society, for which institution he had a high regard. As he could also attend the General Assembly as a commissioner, and visit friends that were dear to him at Princeton, he determined to venture, weak as he was; and at first it seemed as if his health would be benefited by the journey. He attended the anniversaries at New- York in the beginning of May, and then on his return stopped at Princeton, where he spent several days in cheerful and useful conversation with an old friend. He seemed to take a deep interest in the place and its important institutionSj and especially felt himself to be on hallowed ground, when he reflected that the ashes of Burr, Edwards, Davies, Witherspoon and Smith were deposited in the cemetery. It was an object of special desire with him to visit the tombs of these eminent men, to whom the Presbyterian Church is so much indebted. But soon after his arrival in Princeton, there came on a cold eastern rain which continued for several days. He went out in this inclement time, and stood long enough to read all the Latin epitaphs, some of which are long. This imprudence, if it may be so called, was the occasion of his death.

“The writer accompanied him to Philadelphia, and the first night was spent in Trenton, where, at the earnest request of several persons, Dr. Hoge preached in the church by candle-light. Very little opportunity was offered for giving notice, except by the ringing of the church-bell. The sermon was on Romans x. 9; and I see that a discourse on that text has been published from his manuscripts; no doubt the same in substance which he then preached. Soon after arriving in Philadelphia he was seized with a typhus fever, from an attack of which he had recovered but a short time before leaving home. His illness continued several weeks, so that there was opportunity to send for his wife and his son Thomas, a physician, both of whom arrived before his decease. There was nothing remarkable in the exercises of his mind, but a calm submission to the will of his heavenly Father, and a kind and grateful feeling to all around him. His disease was attended with much languor and debility, which could not but affect his spirits, and prevented that cheerful animation which was common in health,”*

It has often been observed with justice, that though Dr. Alexander had removed from his native state, he never lost influence there. Until his last breath, he was intensely a Virginian; and nothing more kindled his restless eye, or animated his nervously mobile frame, or called out his colloquial fires, than any occasion for vindicating the honour of the “old colony and dominion,” as the ancient writs have it. In return, his opinions continued to have much weight in the Virginia churches. More than once they sought to win him back to their bosom. In numerous instances, of which the precise dates are unfortunately lost to us, he made visits to this beloved region, preaching everywhere, renewing the friendships of his youth, mingling with the immense gatherings, who, according to the custom of the land, met or followed him at sacraments, presbyteries and synods, and thus keeping up the connection to which he owed so much of his active usefulness. It needs scarcely be said to those who

* MS. Life of the Rev. William Graham. knew him, that as it regards his judgments, feelings, and policy, he was uniformly reckoned, in every good sense, a Southern rather than a Northern man. More especially in his abhorrence of extreme and fanatical abolitionism, he never bated a jot; having constantly and firmly predicted its degradation into infidelity, which has now become patent to the world.

For evidence of the strong hold which he continued to have upon his friends in Virginia, we need only advert to some transactions which are brought to light by his correspondence, though never made the subject of his conversation. In 1820, he was again elected President of Hampden Sidney College. The congregation of Cumberland simultaneously tendered to him a call to become their pastor, with the understanding that he was also to preach at the College church and at Briery. Immediately after this, the Synod of Virginia chose him their professor of Theology. These offers he declined.’“”

A glance at his domestic habits during this period will not be here out of place; and what is to be said may be taken as applicable, with certain obvious modifications, to a number of preceding and following years. He was now between forty and fifty, slender in person, clear in complexion, with a slight silvering of his abundant brown hair. His body was open to sudden impulses, seldom long at rest, and prone to motions and gestures which were highly animated and expressive, rather than graceful. Like most new-comers from a city, he for a time devoted himself to horticulture,

* Letter of Col. Samuel Venable, October 28, 1820.

but it never gained his heart, and he pursued it less than even his respected colleague, who likewise fell off in his zeal. He was always an early riser, and the older inhabitants of Princeton bear in mind his frequent long walks with his three elder sons, who were then little boys. He long retained his youthful fondness for a horse, and indulged moderately in riding and driving. Sometimes visiting the sea-side, he used to vaunt that he could swim as boldly as when he was a child. His delight was in his family. After being deeply absorbed in study or teaching, he would come in, full of animation and ready to relax at the fireside. It was always his custom — a most delightful one for all about him — to pour out the fulness of his thoughts upon all that interested him, at the table and in the domestic group. Coming from his newspaper, his book, his class, from visits, church or journey, he gave forth a perpetual and vivacious flow of information. Nothing had escaped his eye, and nothing even of details seemed to be withheld in his narrative, yet without tedium or repetition. These daily conversations were the chief entertainment of his life, as they are the most delightful recollections of his household. Through his whole life his house was much frequented by guests, but at this period, though his quarters were never so strait, he was most visited from abroad. Giving a hearty welcome, and most elated when his table was fullest, he gave himself little care as to display or fashion. Many who may read these notices will recur with a melancholy pleasure to the days and weeks which they have passed under his simple but hospitable roof. He was addicted to sacred music, and as

both he and Mrs. Alexander were gifted with clear and pleasing voices, the hours of family intercourse were enlivened by many a psalm and sacred song. When such men as Dr. John H. Rice, or Dr. Finley, or Dr. Janeway, were added to the circle, the conversation took a higher flight, and we remember in his fireside discourses of that day a vehemence and impressiveness, which were wanting, except at some favoured moments, in his later years. In all that regards the indulgence of the table, he was frugal and plain in his tastes, and happily temperate without any thing like dietetic rigour.

Nothing more characterized him than his fondness for communicating instruction, on every subject, even the most elementary, within his reach. It might be the alphabet, or Hebrew and Syriac grammar, or geometry and surveying, in which he was fully versed, or metaphysics; he was unwearied and delighted, if only he had willing learners; and he had the art of making every learner willing. Though he sent his boys to school, always giving his suffrage for the day-school method, he was constantly teaching his children. Every one of them received from him, and commonly on his knee, the rudiments of spelling, arithmetic, geography, algebra, geometry, and the classic languages. He would pass hours in a day giving lessons in the alphabet; breaking off a hundred times, as he observed the first symptom of weariness. For in regard both to himself and others, he acted on Shakspeare’s adage, “No profit grows, where is no pleasure taken.” Every corner of the house was occupied by bits of paper, flying like sibylline leaves, and covered with spelling-lessons, executed by himself in printing characters, and decorated with bold but most unartistic drawings of beasts, birds and houses. As the little ones got on to the dead languages, which, on his plan, was very early, similar papers contained lists of Latin words; these were to be committed to memory; and in the case of one son, the number of such words amounted to thousands. He quoted with approval the testimony of Dr. Witherspoon, who in presbyterial trials used to examine the candidates on c vocables ’ rather than on translation of books. These avocations were confined to no hours. It might seem strange how he could endure the interruption; but it was his peculiarity that he seemed incapable of being interrupted. Except in hours of devotion, his study was always free to his children, even the youngest; noise made no difference; their books and toys were on his floor; and two or three would be clambering upon him, while he was handling a folio or had the pen in his hand. In times of health and spirits, his manner of playing with his children was amusingly romping and even boisterous, and he threw them about with a sprightliness which often extorted a momentary cry of fear or pain. To this may be ascribed the unusual freedom which they always had in his presence, but which was checked in a moment when he grew suddenly sad or grave, as was often the case. Before dismissing the matter of family training, we ought to mention his constant and animated conversations with his children. It was his solace, at home and by the way. Without the slightest appearance of plan, but with an easy and spontaneous flow, he was,

during some hours of every day, pouring forth a stream of useful information, on all subjects, but chiefly on religion. The whole wealth of his extended reading and observation seemed at one time or another to be distilled in these familiar interviews. All the romantic and stirring events of his early mountain life, the tales of Indian massacres, to which his grandmother had fallen a victim, his journeys in new countries, and his schoolboy days, came in for their share. He excelled in graphic narration, and attracted the attention of guests and strangers, even when directly addressing himself to babes. As soon as a child could comprehend the subject, he began with the beautiful stories of the Bible, and repeated them again and again, until the little ones were perfectly acquainted with them long before they could make use of books. It was a common thing for his hearers to be melted to tears. This natural and extraordinary gift led him to indulge in biblical narrative in the pulpit, to a degree which we believe to be uncommon, and gave a singular attraction to certain discourses, especially on the parables and miracles of our Lord. For the same reason his addresses and sermons to children were incomparably winning, and his labours in this kind wrere sought for, far and near, much beyond his ability of supply. Without trying to speak in monosyllables, as if these were more intelligible than longer words, he always made himself perfectly intelligible to the humblest capacity.

Here it gives us great pleasure to insert the testimony of a venerable servant of God, the Kev. Dr. Samuel B. Wilson, late Professor of Theology in the Union Theological Seminary. The incidents which he relates come within the period of which we have been treating.” In October, 1816, the Synod of Virginia sat in Fredericksburg: — Dr. Alexander came on from Princeton, to meet his brethren in the ministry there. To these brethren, the companions and fellow-labourers of his early days, he was strongly attached. According to the custom of Synod, there was preaching every day and every night during the meeting. The congregations were large, attentive, and deeply interested in the services. The Superior Court was in session there at the same time, and drew together a large collection of men distinguished for their intelligence.

“The fame of Dr. Alexander had gone before him, as a superior preacher, and a man occupying the highest station in the Presbyterian Church. Great anxiety was consequently manifested to hear him. On Sabbath day the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was to be administered, and it was announced that Dr. Alexander would preach the Action sermon. At an early hour the church was filled to its utmost extent. Among the audience was found the Judge of the Court, Judge Brockenborough, of Richmond, many lawyers and physicians, and not a few who seldom entered the house of God. Dr. Alexander began his sermon with that humility and simplicity for which he was ever so remarkable. Such an introduction, to men accustomed to judge of greatness by pompous manners and splendid diction, produced a feeling of disappointment, and one eminent lawyer, who afterwards became a Judge of the Court of Appeals, rose from his seat and left the church.

“The text which he had selected was 1 Cor. v. 7. For even Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us, As he advanced in explaining the origin, design, and typical signification of the Jewish Passover, he became warm and animated, and soon commanded the attention of his whole audience, and awakened a universal and intense interest. During the discourse of that morning, which many will recollect as long as memory lasts, several incidents occurred which showed the power of true Christian eloquence.

“As he passed from the description of the Jewish passover, to the sacrifice of Christ, he said, bending forward and looking intently on the communion table spread before him, where the bread and wine lay covered, c But where is our lamb? ‘At these words, so impressively uttered, and accompanied by a gesture so significant, an old French dancing master, who scarcely ever entered the church, rose from his seat near the pulpit, and gazed intently, to see if there was not something on the communion table, which he had not yet seen. An intelligent little girl, too, who sat before him, after she returned home, said: ‘Aunt H. did you ever hear such a man? When he said, “Where is our lamb,” he seemed as if he was looking for a lamb on the communion table.’

“As he proceeded in describing the successive scenes of our Saviour’s sufferings, his hearers became deeply and almost universally affected. Feelings which could scarcely be suppressed were manifest in every part of the house; and tears were seen rolling down the cheeks of many but little accustomed to weep. When he depicted the last scene of our

Saviour’s sufferings on the cross, that power of descriptive painting, for which he was remarkable in his pulpit efforts, was displayed in a manner rarely surpassed by the most accomplished orators. Amidst the unutterable agonies which Jesus suffered while hanging on the cross, he introduced Mary his mother among the spectators, beholding the cruel sufferings of her beloved son, and quoted the prediction of Simeon as there fulfilled: Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul, Such was his gesture, his voice, his whole manner, that had Mary actually stood before the audience, with flowing tears and every token of deepest sorrow, the impression could hardly have been increased.

“Dr. Alexander never aimed to excite mere animal feelings. The effects produced were the result of Bible facts and truths, clearly presented by one who believed them, and felt their power. During the delivery of that discourse, it would have been easy, repeatedly, to have produced an amount of feeling that could not be controlled. Such, however, was his command over himself and his audience, that besides the speaker’s voice, nothing was heard but, here and there, a half suppressed sob, and nothing seen to disturb the solemnity of divine worship.

“Many heard Dr. Alexander on that occasion, for the first and last time; but it is believed that the revelations of the final judgment will prove that his labours then were blessed to the good of many souls.” *

To this may be added a short narrative from the pen of

* Virginia Historical Register, Jan. 1852, p. 43.

the late venerable President Brown. “I particularly remember,” says he,” some time after he went to Princeton, a sacramental service in the Northern Liberties, where Mr. James Patterson was pastor. There had been an extensive and powerful revival of religion at that time, as there had often been under the ministrations of that excellent though somewhat eccentric man. The church was crowded; I presume a majority of the ministers [of the Assembly] attended. I suppose near a hundred new communicants stood up in the aisles and were addressed by the pastor. After this Dr. Alexander, who had been previously engaged for this service, arose to administer the ordinance. After some preparatory remarks, before distributing the bread and the wine, he began with a supposition that the Saviour himself was present, and proceeded to inquire what in such case he would probably say. In a manner at once plain, solemn, searching, and adapted to the various conditions of Christians, he presented the most touching appeals I had ever heard on such an occasion. It almost seemed to me that these were the very words as to matter and manner which Christ himself would have uttered. After dispensing the elements, he concluded in the same admirable strain, using language which a child might understand. He addressed different classes; first communicants in general; then those newly admitted, in very melting strains; then the unconverted, and such as had refused to own Christ. He addressed the ministers of the gospel, c fathers and brethren ’ then present. He addressed young men and young women, and closed by speaking to little children, in the very manner of Him who took special notice

of such, and said, c Forbid them not.’ The effect was extraordinary’:■; all were melted into tears. I had never heard any thing to be compared to it.”*

We have thus, in the absence of documents, and in regard to a period prosperously monotonous and void of great external events, endeavoured to fill the blank with minor characteristics, which go to make up the portraiture of the man; and this to some extent must be our resource in the chapter which shall follow.

* Letter of the Rev. Matthew Brown, D. D., to Henry M. Alexander.