Hope Hull was at this time living in Wilkes county. Upon his marriage, ten or fifteen years before, as was then the invariable custom in the South, he located. Before this, somewhere between 1785 and 1790, he had come from the northward, as one of the first missionaries, to cross the Savannah River. Part of his earlier life had been spent as a carpenter; but from this occupation he had been called to the ministry, in which he became a burning and a shining light. Driven from Georgia by persecutions in Savannah, about 1792 he accompanied Bishop Asbury to New-England, where he spent a year or two in preaching. Returning then to Georgia, the remainder of his life was spent in his adopted State. After his marriage and location, by the request of Bishop Asbury, he established the first Methodist High School of which we have any knowledge in this country. He had managed, despite the ceaseless labors and obstacles of his itinerant life, to acquire a handsome English education, and a respectable acquaintance with the classics. In this school he gave what rudimentary training he ever got to another man, whose name became, in Georgia and Carolina, even more famous than his instructor's James (familiarly known as Jimmy) Russel. Mr. Hull, although now having ample means, continued for years to teach, his sole object being to do good. He became one of the earliest friends and advocates of the University, which was subsequently located at Athens, and removed thither, that he might more effectually discharge the duties of trustee to the infant institution. Rather short in stature, his form was nevertheless symmetrical. His head, which was beautifully shaped and rounded, was covered by a luxuriance of dark, curling hair. His face is described as betraying the tokens of genius, but its prevailing expression was that of serene benevolence; and, when animated in conversation or higher speech, the eye and mouth, in their play and radiation, told of eloquence almost unmatched. His voice, clear, sweet, and strong, was capable of every modulation, from the softest key of pathos to the most daring sweep of impassioned declamation. A mind of large grasp, and fine analytic power; an imagination reconstructing and animating what the reason had depicted; piety simple, as it was sincere and deep, He completed this man's qualities for the pulpit, and made him one of the most notable preachers the Church has ever had. Strange that, so far as we know, a hundred lines of commemoration have never been written concerning this great and noble man, than whom, for eloquence, worth, and usefulness, we have had few equals and no superiors. Among strangers he was silent; but when acquainted, full of instructive and humorous talk. had a queer taste in dress. His clothes needed but one recommendation - that they should not fit! Everything, from hat to boots, to find favor in his eyes, must be several sizes too large. It is reported that, after putting on his boots one morning, he was annoyed, while taking a turn or two around the room, by something in one of them. Drawing it off, and giving it a shake, out fell the lid of the tea-kettle! At another time he ordered a hatter to make him two hats, a black and a white one; "for," said he, "a great many people say that I wore this when I first came to Georgia, and I am determined to show them that I can wear a new one." Such was his clinging attachment to his old clothes that it almost passed into a proverb: "Old as Hope Hull's hat." This, however, was not from parsimony, for he was generous as the day is long; but from a love to garments in which he had labored and enjoyed so much. He died in 1816, at Athens, Georgia, a godly man, on whose name never came a blot, leaving a family of which any father might be proud. Three of his children still live at Athens. The young presiding elder and Mr. Hull became great cronies, and, up to the latter's death, their intimacy was brotherlike. In 1813, with shattered health, Mr. Pierce (we have called him Dr. Pierce by anticipation) located. The country was then at war, and he was soon drafted into the service. The governor appointed him chaplain, and he was breveted captain. He continued in the army until it was disbanded at the proclamation of peace. The country was bankrupt; money was not to be had; and, with a growing family upon his hands, our friend found it necessary to look around him for something to do. He had already devoted some study to the science of medicine, and having money enough he attended lectures in Philadelphia, and returned he has never been local. That was a proud day in his life, when, standing one fine spring morning in the door of his house at Greensborough, he watched the receding forms of his two oldest children-George, then between five and six, and Julia, about four-trudging for the first time to school. From that day until some time in 1846, a period of more than thirty years, some of the family were attendants at school. To enable him to give them the best education the land afforded, the strictest economy and greatest self-denial must be practiced by himself and wife; therefore, wherever his appointment might be, in the mountains or on the coast, his family never removed. A little while once a month, and sometimes only once in three months, was usually all he could spend at home. Thus, as we have before stated, out of a married life in the itinerancy of thirty-five years, he was away from home thirty! Until 1836 his family resided in Greensborough, but since then at Columbus. | dwell more at large upon the scenes and friends of Dr. Pierce's married life; but the remainder must be devoted to the doctor himself, as a preacher. A fine old man of nearly seventy, with frosted locks, mild benignant face, in which you see the traces of great manly beauty, erect form, above middle stature, serupulously neat in dress, he stands before you in the desk, impressing you by his very appearance that he is a man to be listened to. His voice has lost the flexible sweetness it once had, but it is yet firm and strong. You are at a loss to discover, as he proceeds, whether his discourse has been carefully premeditated, or is improvised. It has the clearness, accuracy, and connection of the first, with the warmth, freshness, and ceaseless surprises of the last. Are these "the carefully studied arguments, seeming like sudden inspirations," so skillfully managed by the art of Bourdaloue, and which have made his memory so famous. The old thoughts which we had spurned as commonplace now come looking us in the face" as unknown, and yet well known." Here a homely illustration, such as would have been used by a sixteenth-century preacher, clinches the reflection; and there a quaint but natural expression fixes itself upon the heart like a chestnut bur. Now a gleam of genuine humor relaxes the muscles and warms the heart, and then a touch of pathos starts the tear in many an eye. The truths are home truths, speeding to the mark with the force of conviction. The preacher is emphatic, because he believes in his heart the truths he is declaring. His subject is a living reality-not a question of balanced probabilities, nor a finely wrought drapery of language woven for the concealment of unwelcome thought, or to hide its absence. He believes that you and he will soon stand side by side in judgment, and delivIt was here that Dr. Olin made the ac- ers his soul accordingly. He knows that quaintance of Miss Bostwick, afterward avarice, vanity, conceit, pride, superciliMrs. Olin. She was at that time said to ousness, worldly-mindedness, sloth, indebe by all who saw her the most beautiful cision, self-indulgence, and the lust of the woman of the day, and agreeable in man- flesh, are like so many devils tugging at ners as she was lovely in person. From your soul, and he would warn you of the being the reigning Queen of Fashion in danger. He would pluck you from their that and the neighboring States, having grasp. The doctor may not cite familbecome devotedly religious, she was no iarly the words of Porphyry; but in unfit companion for this, in our opinion, knowledge of the human heart and its greatest man American Methodism has manifold workings few can excel him, or produced. are better prepared to guide you through Had we space, it would be pleasant to its many-chambered labyrinth. In all While residing at Greensborough, Dr. Pierce was visited by Dr. Olin. Dr. P. had been very much delighted in reading a book called Le Fevre, or some such name. Have you read Le Fevre, Dr. Olin?" he asked one day. "No! what is it?" 66 "O! you must read it by all means. It is a religious novel!" "Religious novel!" responded Dr. O., "why not say Christian grog!" likelihood he never read a line of Cyprian in his life; nor does he know, or even care, that his epistles are forgeries. But with the corroboration of the New Testament, furnished by Christian experience, he is perfectly familiar. His preaching is eminently practical, meeting the spiritual wants of the people; its materials are common-sense knowledge of men and things, acquaintance with his own heart and the Bible, together with experience of the deep things of God. Simple and direct in statement, ample and forcible in illustration, his sermons abound with pithy sayings akin to proverbs, and show a man that dares to think and speak his own thoughts. the St. Louis General Conference in 1850 -but they have made his faith more steadfast and serene. Holding tenaciously to all that is fundamental in Methodism, he is yet the friend of progress, and his wisdom fails not to discern room for improvement. His age is not degraded by a contempt for ". young men." As the evening of life comes on, he can look back upon half a century nobly spent, and rejoice at the giant strength and proportions of a Church in Georgia with whose nursing, training, and development he has had more to do than any other man. SEN SENSIBILITY. ENSIBILITY is that susceptibility of feeling which lies at the foundation of all rational enjoyment. It, however, requires to be kept under proper regulation. Sensibility is the most exquisite feeling of which the human soul is susceptible. When it pervades us, we feel happy; and, could it last unmixed, we might form some conjecture of the bliss of those paradisaical days when the obedient passions were under the dominion of reason, and the impulses of the heart did not need correction. It is this quickness, this delicacy of feeling, which enables us to relish the sublime touches of the poet and the painter. It is this which expands the soul, and gives an enthusiastic greatness, mixed with tenderness, when we view the magnificent objects of nature, or hear of a good action. Sermons he never studies, but subjects for instance, interest on money; the use of the tongue; prayer; duty of Christians to give; the Christian's walk; danger of riches; temptation; and others that occur to him in his own experience, and from intercourse with society. He has besides carefully studied, and often clearly presents, the doctrines, evidences, and ordinances of Christianity. His whole mind has been carefully trained and stored; and when he is to preach, the subject is selected in conformity with the wants of the people, and not from the contents of the portfolio. The state of affairs suggests the text to his active mind, so perfectly familiar with the volume of divine truth, which he has so reverently studied, and over which he has prayed dayly for nearly sixty years. The text correlates the subject, or the needed phase of it. The words are ready; so are the illustrations from a fertile intellect, combining a vigorous understanding, a quaint fancy, a powerful imagination, all enriched by a wide and profound observation of life. Here you have the pulpit preparation of one of the most notable and effective preachers South-ness, the soul is disposed to be virtuous. ern Methodism has produced. A scrap of paper never went with him to the desk; yet who has ever heard Dr. Pierce preach a poor sermon ? Let us not be understood as prescribing this formula for universal adoption; but it is suggestive, and from it some may learn a useful lesson. The frosts of age have whitened his locks, but have left his heart full of beautiful childlike sympathies and affections. Life has brought its trials-the greatest his wife's death while he was absent at The same effect we experience in the Spring, when we hail the returning sun, and the consequent renovation of nature when the flowers unfold themselves, and exhale their sweets, and the voice of music is heard in the land. Softened by tender Is any sensual gratification to be compared to that of feeling the eyes moistened, after having comforted the unfortunate? Sensibility is, indeed, the very foundation of all our earthly happiness. But these raptures are unknown to the depraved sensualist, who is only moved by what strikes his gross thoughts and harmonizes with his vicious propensities. As the embellishments of nature escape his neglected notice, so likewise do all the gentle and interesting affections. Sensibility can only be felt; it escapes discussion. W [For the National Magazine.] MEMORY. JONDERFUL, very wonderful, as well as useful, are all the faculties of the mind; but in these respects none exceeds the memory. But for this, we should be engaged in a perpetual series of experiments. Though we had succeeded in performing some task nine times in a single day, we should have no recollection of it; and should we attempt it again, it would be as really an experiment as upon the first occasion. Such a thing as experience would be unknown. To learn wisdom from past failures and successes, or from the history of the world, would be impossible. We should be unable to apply any lessons of wisdom suggested by our own past life and actions, or those of others, because there would be no recollection of them in our minds. But the memory is as wonderful as it is useful. The common servant of all the powers of the mind, it is expected to receive, and hold in safe-keeping, whatever is committed to its trust. The understanding intrusts it with its notions and perceptions, however crude and dissimilar -the reason commits to it its partially analyzed facts, together with its wellwrought conclusions—the imagination deposits here its pictures and images, whether real, truthful, and substantial, or airy, false, and tangible-the conscience hands over its record of moral truths and fulfilled duties-and it is even expected to keep a record of its own failings and infirmities, as well as its noble feats and worthy deeds. This heterogeneous mass of mental and moral phenomena it is not only expected to guard with watchful care, but to deliver up, even to the minutest particular, at the summons of any other faculty of the mind. Or, more truthfully perhaps, it might be said that it is required to act as a general scribe, and record the proceedings and experiences of all the faculties of the soul, both in relation to the world within and the world without; and then expose this record, at all times and under all circumstances, either generally or particularly, at the pleasure of any of its masters. While you are impressed with the importance of correctness in your memory, consider also the unenviable position it occupies; for while the record of the dis charge of its duties and the fulfillment of its trust is open to the inspection, criticism, and even judgment of the other faculties, instead of the privilege of standing up to vindicate its own character, it is obliged to record the proceedings of those faculties which are sitting in judgment upon it. Therefore remember this, when chagrined and mortified in view of its delinquencies, and judge it charitably. Were it permitted to stand up in self-defense, it might allege, in extenuation of its apparent failings, the almost infinite multiplicity of things committed to its trust-the lightning-like rapidity with which they succeed each other; the tumultuous and confused manner in which they are frequently presented; their widely-dissimilar, and sometimes airy and evanescent character; together with the fact that many of them passed through the mind without exciting even a transient interest, and many more were scarcely honored with a recognition. Onerous are the duties of this faithful servant, and many are the difficulties which beset it in their faithful discharge. True, it has its freaks and caprices; and, frequently without any assignable cause, will fancy a certain class of the mind's guests, which it will treat with the greatest consideration and link to its imperishable recollections, while others receive less marked civilities. The former constitutes the "select society" and the "choice friends" of memory, to be received warmly and treated affectionately; while the latter are received with equal civility, but not with equal relish. And why should we quarrel with this useful servant for selecting some guests as his especial favorites, or demur at the choice he makes? Let him indulge his preferences and enjoy his fancies, and thus beguile the tedium of his wearisome duties by the smiles of his favorites, and the hope of forming new and pleasant acquaintances. Meanwhile, if we lay aside distrust and suspicion, and make a friend of memory, treating it with the consideration its importance demands, and introducing our guests to it with some care, it will less often deceive us. therefore, to get in the good graces of your memory and to keep there, and it will certainly serve you to the best of its ability; and beyond this we should make no demands. If we can devise means to Contrive some way, develop its powers, and to aid it in accomplishing its duties more easily and correctly, it will be a legitimate department of labor, and worthy of our highest skill. Attention to the following thoughts may prove of service in this department. We must gain a distinct view of what we would remember. Much of the indistinctness attributed to the memory properly belongs to the understanding. The memory not unfrequently loses, or indistinctly reproduces, a thought or image, because, through haste or carelessness, the understanding has not clearly perceived it. Although it does not follow that if I distinctly see the face of a person I will certainly remember it; yet it does follow, that if I do not distinctly see it I shall not remember it. The same is true of thoughts, facts, and mental images, (at least with ordinary memories ;) they must be distinctly perceived in order to be remembered. Doubtless a large portion of the facts which we have charged the memory with forgetting, were never distinctly perceived by the understanding, and consequently never clearly presented to the memory. We should be interested in what we would remember. Whatever enlists our affections, arouses our sympathies, or creates a deep interest in our minds, will be easily remembered. If none of the faculties of the mind are interested in a given fact, it will very likely be forgotten; but if it awakens an interest in the understanding, imagination, affections, or desires, it can hardly fail, under ordinary circumstances, of being remembered. Whatever it is important to remember, not of a nature to excite interest in the mind, (e. g., statistics,) may be more easily remembered by supposing some occasion when they will be wanted, and considering the importance of being able to produce them. The fact that we seldom forget what our affections are interested in should teach us the philosophy of remembrance, and suggest the importance of awakening in the mind, in some way, an interest in what we would remember. We should reflect upon what we would remember. The countenances of those persons we have looked upon again and again, until they have become familiar, we can never forget; while those upon which we have only glanced as we met them in the promiscuous walks of life, are forgot ten. The same is true of the thoughts of our minds. If we make friends of them, and look upon their faces until they become somewhat familiar, they will not forsake us, but domesticate themselves in the chambers of memory, obedient to her slightest call. We should systematically arrange what we would remember. The lawyer who places notes, receipts, briefs, and notices, in a common drawer; the machinest who pitches lumber, tools, and patterns promiscuously together; the mechanic who puts dry-goods, groceries, hardware, and varieties together, without order or arrangement, will want many things which cannot be found without spending much time, and enduring much vexation, in the search. This will illustrate the importance of systematizing our thoughts for the convenience of memory in referring to them. If we ponder upon the facts which come before our minds, we shall not only become somewhat familiar with their faces, which will aid the memory in retaining them, but we shall also be enabled to refer them to a class of subjects according to their uses; and when those subjects come up, the thoughts we have associated with them will make their appearance at the same time. [For the National Magazine.] DEATH spareth none But young and old, and low and high, The lovely flower- And leave them naught to cheer. Youth hath no pledge Philosopher and sage. phantom grim He stalks, unseen by mortals here; Oft stealing to his cold embrace The forms we hold most dear. Yet death is sent, To heaven, with him to dwell. |