young man of fine memory and powers of mimicry, paid close attention to the Doctor's address; and in camp would occasionally repeat it in the words, and with the tones and gestures of the venerable minister. The company ever bore him in the highest esteem, and hailed with joy a report that he was to visit

their camp.

Dr. Hoge was blessed in his family; while rearing youth for usefulness, God blessed his sons and made them useful: rejoicing to introduce pious young men into the ministry, God thrust his sons into the harvest. In May, 1813, he thus writes in his diary respecting the licensure of his youngest-"It fell to my lot to perform that solemn office; never have I observed so many tears shed on such an occasion. He has gone forth with the good wishes of all present, and with the prayers of all the pious spectators of the scene. With the instructions of a father

I united the love of his mother, reminding him of her prayers and tears, as well as of her instruction and example. Thus I have lived to see three of my sons become preachers of the gospel." These were James, John Blair, and Samuel Davies. James is still living in Columbus, Ohio, a worthy son of a worthy sire. Samuel Davies was afflicted with feeble health during his whole ministerial course. After preaching acceptably for some years in Virginia he removed to Ohio, and though happily and usefully employed, gradually fell a victim to disease. He was happily united in marriage with a daughter of Rev. Drury Lacy; and their son, Moses Drury, is a settled pastor in Richmond, Virginia. John Blair early gave ominous symptoms of the disease of his mother, which finally carried him to his grave. These symptoms were greatly palliated by a visit to Europe, and the mild air of the south of France brought back vigour to his lungs. On his return to Virginia he became the most popular preacher of his day. Possessed of a fine imagination, strong sense, a great command of words, with a sweet flow of thought, a kind heart, and tender sensibilities, with a quick sense of right and wrong, of the congruous and ridiculous, he preached with a fervency and pathos that drew all classes to hear him. After preaching for a time in Berkeley county, he removed to Richmond, hoping to find the winter climate more favourable to his lungs. These at length gave way, and leaving a widow and two children, he fell asleep in his native Valley, and lies buried in Martinsburg, the scene 'of his former labours. That Dr. Hoge should rejoice in his ministerial sons was but an evidence of his thankfulness to God for their existence, and their interest in the covenant of grace, and his love for all mankind.

The labours of Dr. Hoge's station became more and more oppressive to him, till his strong constitution began to exhibit

evident marks of decay. The labours of President of a College and Professor of Divinity had become much more onerous than in the days of the founders of Hampden Sidney. The College course of studies was, throughout the United States, becoming more and more extensive, and demanding more time and more labour in the inculcation. Professor after Professor was demanded in languages and sciences; and in theology, the labour was divided and subdivided among numerous teachers. But no measures were taken to lessen the labours of Dr. Hoge. Some complaints pained his ear, that seemed to him to charge him with neglect of which he said he would as soon have expected to be charged with an intention of suicide. While it was evident to all that something ought to be done, no efficient steps. were taken to accomplish what has since been done, by the life and labours of John H. Rice, D.D. In 1819 his strong powers of body gave way. After a long confinement to his chamber his strength was but partially renewed. In the spring of 1820 he was appointed delegate to the General Assembly to meet in Philadelphia. It had been his ardent desire to attend an anniversary of the American Bible Society in New York. He took this opportunity of gratifying that desire; and journeying to New York was present on the occasion of the annual meeting. Returning, he visited the Theological Seminary at Princeton under the instructions of his old friend Dr. Alexander, with Dr. Miller, and was greatly gratified with what he saw and heard. During the sessions of the Assembly he became ill. He attended, with occasional absences, upon the meetings of the brethren. His last public service was offering the invocatory prayer in the prayer meeting of the Assembly. His symptoms becoming alarming, members of his family hastened to his bedside, and witnessing his prevailing faith, soothed the sufferings of his body. His comfort from the truths of the gospel was great; his faith triumphant. On the fifth of July, 1820, at three o'clock, P. M.-"without an indication of distress, and with an expression sweetly placid and serene he slept in Jesus. His body was deposited in the burying ground of the Third Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia, beside the remains of his intimate friend, John Blair Smith. United while they lived, in bonds of the closest friendship, they are now associated in the tomb.'

That the Virginia Synod esteemed Dr. Hoge a theologian is evident from the position he held, unsought for and unexpected. Orthodox in sentiment, clear in thought, kind in feeling, fond of reading, given to study, he filled the chair of Professor to the great satisfaction of his pupils, who invariably held him in increasing reverence. His preaching was admired. His discourses were characterized by simplicity in the plan, the thought and the diction. Every thing seemed to be natural. Sound

sense, truth and clearness gave a reality to the things he exhibited from the sacred desk. Always fervent, often highly pathetic, he seemed to have but one object in view,—preaching the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Incorruptible in his principles, irreproachable in his moral and religious character, his words had meaning and weight. In the delivery of his sermons he was not in the classic sense graceful. In his early life, his fine moral and spiritual sensibilities were cultivated to exquisite proportion, while his outward man was neglected. His friend and instructor, Graham, attempted at Liberty Hall to improve his manners and soften his awkwardness. After some trial he relinquished the effort, observing pleasantly that it was impossible to remodel him. His arms appeared disproportionably long, and gave an awkwardness where there was no vulgarity. His first appearance sometimes excited a disposition to smile; not at wit or drollery, but an apparent want of fitness. A conviction of this greatly discouraged him in the commencement of his ministerial course. How entirely this passed away from his frequent hearers, may be known from the fact, that on an expected vacancy in the charge of Mr. Graham, the congregation fixed their attention on Mr. Hoge as successor. The people said, this awkwardness is the way of an honest, tenderhearted, upright, noble-spirited man. He has the heart of a gentleman, and there is no vulgarity in him. In ordinary times some two or three sermons were requisite to make the proper impression. Under one of his more impassioned discourses, his hearers would feel the truth of the assertion of John Randolph, himself an eloquent man, "that man is the best of orators. He never purposely made gestures, yet every limb and feature spoke to his hearers. A jerk of his elbow, or a swing of his long arm, was the precursor or accompaniament of a sweeping proposition, an unanswerable argument, or the assertion of a great truth. The turning and twisting of his handkerchief, with both hands, indicated the evolution of some grand truth, or deep feeling, or pathetic appeal. His old acquaintances understood his motions, and felt assured of the richness of his abundant resources of mind and heart. The tremor of his arm would start the expectation of a rich exhibition of truth. The starting tear in his eye would unlock the fountains in their hearts. The hesitation in his speech would make them almost breathless to catch the promised word. As he grew more fervent, the will and affections of his hearers were in obedience to the will and affections of the speaker. The impressions were not evanescent. The words and thoughts remained, and to them adhered the feeling that warmed the soul. It was impossible to print one of his sermons to the satisfaction of his hearers. He seldom wrote a sermon in full; and there are no

types to print his actions. From his diary it appears he was seldom satisfied with his public performances. Often when he was desirous of exhibiting some grand subject, he seemed to himself to have done but very little. In this his audience did not always agree with him. But in one thing he excelled. He left no unkind remembrances of hard words or bitter speeches, or unchristian thoughts, or wounds in the soul. The impression left on those acquainted with him, was that of the wisest and meekest of men.

THE END.