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 BX 9225 .D45 E14 1882 
 Eaton, S. J. M. 1820-1889. 
 Memorial of the life and 
 labors of the Rev. Cyrus 
 
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MEMORIAL 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE AND LABORS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D, 
 
 LATE SECRETARY OF THE BOARD OF HOME MISSIONS. 
 
 BY S. J. m/eATON, D. D. 
 
 GOD IS THE AUTHOR, MEN ARE ONLY THE PLATERS. THESE GRAND 
 PIECES WHICH AKE PLAYED UPON EARTH HAVE BEEN COMPOSED IN 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 BALZAC. 
 
 John v, 35, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 530 BROADWAY. 
 
 1882. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The idea of this Memorial originated with the Presb}"- 
 teiy of Baltimore, of which Dr. Dickson was a member 
 at the time of his death. At its meeting, just after ]\\. 
 departure, a committee was appointed to prepare such a 
 work. This committee talked the matter over, but did 
 not give it definite shape. They finally proposed com- 
 mitting it to the present writer, and made this recommen- 
 dation to the Presbytery at its Spring meeting. The 
 work was then entered upon with what material was on 
 hand. It has been a labor of love. A life-long ac- 
 quaintance, a hereditary friendship on both sides, and 
 ardent admiration for the man and his great work in be- 
 half of the Church and the countr}-, have been elements 
 entering into its preparation. The simple facts in his 
 life histor}^ have been brought to view, his grand pastoral 
 work, and the part he took in the work of the Board of 
 Home Missions have been briefl}' stated. All flattery 
 and empty compliment have been avoided. The simple, 
 earnest desire has been to w^eave, with the help of others, 
 a modest chaplet to lay upon his tomb, and at the same 
 time to commend to the Church the remembrance of one 
 of the grandest of her sons who laid down his life in her 
 service. 
 
 Thanks are tendered for the valuable addresses deliv- 
 ered at the funeral, and to the friends who contributed 
 valuable material to the work, as well as furnished per- 
 sonal letters, adding greatly to its interest. 
 
 S. J. M. E. 
 
 Franklin, Pa., August^ 1882. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 I. THE EARLY DAWN. I 
 
 II. THE STUDENT. 33 
 
 III. THE COMMISSION. 63 
 
 IV. PASTORAL LIFE AT FRANKLIN. 73 
 
 V. PASTORAL LIFE AT WHEELING. IO5 
 
 VL PASTORAL LIFE AT BALTIMORE. 1 29 
 
 VII. THE SECRETARY. 157 
 
 VIII. THE MAN THE CHRISTIAN THE 
 
 PREACHER. 195 
 
 IX. THE HOME LIFE. 223 
 
 X. THE EVENING AND THE MORNING. 25 I 
 
 II. FUNERAL SERVICES AT BALTI- 
 
 MORE. 275 
 
 III. MEMORIAL SERVICES AT 
 
 FRANKLIN. 315 
 
 IV. WORDS OF SYMPATHY. 347 
 V. PRESS NOTICES. 373 
 
 VI. TRIBUTES OF RESPECT. 393 
 
I. BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 ^^ There is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but 
 is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or nnrhymed.'' 
 
 Carlyle. 
 
 *^Brevis a natura nobis vita data est ; at memoria 
 bene reditce vitce sempiternal 
 
 Cicero. 
 
 "The steps of a good ma7t are oi'dered by the Lord ; 
 and Jie delighteth in his way.'' 
 
 Psalm xxxvii : 23. 
 
THE EARLY DAWN. 
 
 *'0 child ! O new born denizen 
 
 Of life's great city ! on thy head 
 
 The glory of the morn is shed 
 
 Like a celestial benizen I 
 
 Here at the portal thou dost stand. 
 
 And with thy little hand 
 
 Thoii openest the mystef tons gate 
 
 Into the future s undiscovered land!^ 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 ^'And the child grew and waxed strong in spirit^ 
 
 Luke l 8o. 
 
I. BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 I. THE EARLY DAWN. 
 
 The influence of every human soul is well nigh 
 boundless. It reaches, like the poles of the earth, 
 away out into the boundless unknown. It spreads 
 itself over an extent vaster than the mighty fields 
 where the stars have their home. And there is 
 the good and the evil. There is the sweet, health- 
 laden air that comes down from the snow clad hills 
 and sweeps over the valleys ; that gathers fragrance 
 from the meadows and balmy odors from the pine 
 forests, and that kisses the summits of ocean's 
 crested waves, bearing strength and healing and 
 life in its bosom. And there is the miasma that 
 creeps stealthily up from swamps and stagnant 
 pools, and all places of decay and contagion, that 
 bears disease and pain and death in its breath. 
 
 So there is the good life that makes its influence 
 felt in all the ways of men, conciliating, sweetening, 
 beautifying everything with which it comes in con- 
 tact, and making the world better and happier as 
 it brings it nearer to God. And there is the evil 
 life that is depressing and contaminating and de- 
 structive in all its influences, that mars and cor- 
 
Memo7'ial. 
 
 rodes society, and that assists in bearing souls down 
 to the realms of darkness. 
 
 And there are, comparatively, the great and the 
 small, and each has its importance. There are the 
 Alps, the Rocky Mountains and the lofty Lebanon. 
 But there are also Tabor, and Gilboa, and Olivet 
 and Sinai. Each has its influence and its impor- 
 tance. Whilst from the great may come the breath 
 of snows and the balmy odors of lofty cedars ; from 
 the apparently less may come the deep, earnest 
 voice of God, as Sinai trembles and totters and bows 
 beneath His tread ; or the sweet, holy light of the 
 Transfiguration calling to a waiting world : ''This 
 is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased : 
 hear ye Him :" or from Olivet, beneath the open 
 heavens : "Lo I am with you always, even unto the 
 end of the world," as the Lord of glory ascends to 
 His throne. 
 
 There is the same distinction in human influence. 
 All are not called to stand upon the high places of 
 Zion ; all are not commissioned to be leaders of 
 men, nor standard bearers of the armies of God. 
 Yet all have their influence, and the word comes to 
 all : follow me and be my disciple. And the quiet 
 Christian whose name is seldom seen, and whose 
 voice is rarely heard, may be serving Christ and 
 helping the souls of His people up the rugged 
 steeps of a religious life as effectively as many 
 who are more prominent in the Church. 
 
 Still when the leaders of the Lord's Zion fall in 
 the foremost line of the battle the Church is ready 
 
The Early Dawn. j 
 
 to cry out at its loss. It is ready to fear that its 
 interests will suffer damage, and that its work will 
 stop. And while it is fitting that too much depend- 
 ence should not be placed on the arm of flesh, it is 
 also fitting that, when its standard-bearers fall, the 
 Church should remember their virtues, honor their 
 memory, and weave garlands of amaranth for their 
 tombs. The righteous shall be in everlasting re- 
 membrance. It is fitting, too, that our zeal should 
 be stimulated and our activity promoted by looking 
 upon what has been accomplished by those who 
 have gone before and have received their crown. 
 The eleventh chapter of the epistle to the Hebrews 
 is but the roll-call of the mighty dead of all the 
 past, commemorating their virtues, recording their 
 illustrious works, and singing their praises. And 
 after pointing to this long muster-roll of worthies 
 who had done valiantly for the truth, the sacred 
 writer cries out to those who were still in the val- 
 ley of conflict like himself :" ''Wherefore, seeing 
 we also are compassed about with so great a cloud 
 of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the 
 sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run 
 with patience the race that is set before us, looking 
 unto Jesus." 
 
 So it is fitting that when one so useful, so labori- 
 ous, so conscientious, and so thoroughly devoted to 
 the Lord's work, as was the subject of this sketch, 
 passes away in the very midst of his usefulness, some 
 memorial, however inadequate, should be erected to 
 tell how he lived, how he labored, and how he died 
 
Memorial. 
 
 for the promotion of the Lord's work, and the 
 building up of His kingdom. Such men are few in 
 these days of rushing business, and devotion to 
 mammon, and selfish seeking of personal aggrand- 
 izement, and the world needs to hear and to heed 
 the lesson their lives and their labors are designed 
 to teach. 
 
 Longfellow, whose harp, save in its dim echoes, 
 has so recently become silent, says : " Great men 
 are like solitary towers in the city of God." Their 
 influence therefore should be felt in the generations 
 to come, and their light should shine out so as to 
 help to dissipate the world darkness that is around. 
 
 It was one of the pleasant thoughts that often 
 filled the heart and shed sunshine on the daily path 
 of Cyrus Dickson that he was : "The son of parents 
 passed into the skies." All the records, traditions 
 and memories of the households of both his parents 
 led back through an ancestry of pious, God-fearing 
 people. They were loyal to country and loyal to 
 God. They trained up their children to walk in 
 their footsteps. They taught them by precept and 
 by example, and the promise was fulfilled : "Thy 
 seed will I establish forever, and build up thy 
 throne unto all generations." God is always faith- 
 ful to his covenant. His people shall prosper and 
 the blessing of the Lord shall descend upon them 
 unto all generations. And just as Bethlehem and 
 Nazareth, where the Lord was born and brought 
 up, seem to be surrounded by a brighter foliage, and 
 enriched by a sweeter landscape, and to have a 
 
The Early Dawn. 5 
 
 more comely population than the other cities of 
 Palestine, as though the blessing of the footprints 
 of the Lord lingered there still ; so the fam- 
 ilies that entered into covenant with God in the 
 old days of trial and persecution, and served Him 
 in spite of the danger and the death, found not only 
 one like to the Son of God walking with them in 
 the fiery furnace, but left a blessing and a joy to 
 the generations that came after them. 
 
 Of the Dickson family we have this historical 
 knowledge: in 1740 a colony of Presbyterians set- 
 tled on the Mohawk river, in the state of New 
 York. Amongst these was William Dickson, great 
 grandfather of Cyrus. He had come from New 
 England and was of Scotch descent. The colony 
 increased and was made up chiefly of Presbyterians 
 from Londonderry. In 1765 it numbered forty 
 families, and, until after the revolution, the church 
 and the colony were identical. This was the origin 
 of the old town of Cherry Valley. 
 
 William Dickson had married Elizabeth Camp- 
 bell, and with his family lived in peace until the 
 days of the revolution. In November 1778 occur- 
 red the terrible massacre of Cherry Valley, when a 
 band of two hundred Tories and five hundred In- 
 dians burst upon the settlers, burning the town, 
 and murdering and taking captive the people. 
 
 The Dickson family at first escaped. The father 
 and older sons were absent, and the mother and 
 younger children had hidden away in the thick 
 woods that clothed the hillside at the back of the 
 
Memorial. 
 
 house. But during the daytime, Mrs. Dickson, 
 moved by the hunger of the children, went back to 
 the house for the purpose of obtaining food for 
 them. She never returned. She was known all 
 through that valley by a splendid head of long, red 
 hair, and the first knowledge the children had of 
 her fate was seeing, from their hiding place, an In- 
 dian passing with a scalp from which waved those 
 long auburn locks. 
 
 James Dickson, the son of this William Dickson, 
 was a captain in the Revolutionary army, and was 
 somewhat famous in his time. This romantic story 
 is preserved concerning him in the unwritten ar- 
 chives of the family : He was the grandfather of 
 Cyrus, and still had his residence in Cherry Valley. 
 On a certain occasion he was detailed for special 
 service, and happened to be one of the guard that 
 conducted General Burgoyne to Boston after his 
 surrender. The young captain was then twenty- 
 two years of age. 
 
 Some delay took place on the journey, and the 
 party was detained at the farm house of Daniel 
 Morris, near Great Barrington, Ma-sssacusetts. The 
 youngest of the twelve children of this household 
 was Mary, a comely maiden of fifteen. The young 
 soldier was so impressed with the charms of the 
 girl that he asked permission to seek a more inti- 
 mate acquaintance after the exigencies of the war 
 should be over. 
 
 They did not wait until the war was over, but 
 were married in 1780. The outfit was purchased in 
 
The Early Dawn. 7 
 
 Boston, and amongst other things was a good sup- 
 ply of silver plate. 
 
 When the war was over, James Dickson became 
 a merchant in Cherry Valley, and was prosperous 
 until the very great depreciation of the Continental 
 currency brought financial ruin. Then he resolved 
 to seek a home in the new west. But his means 
 were limited, and the devoted wife sold the silver 
 that had been her dowry, to obtain the means of 
 making the journey and of establishing them in the 
 new country, and, in 1789, the father and mother 
 with their five small children left their pleasant 
 home to seek a new abiding place in the wilderness. 
 
 Mary Morris, the grandmother of Cyrus Dickson, 
 
 was descended from Daniel Morris, one of the first 
 
 settlers of New Haven, Connecticut. Her father, 
 
 also Daniel Morris, left New Haven in 1762 or 3^ 
 
 for Great Barrington. This Daniel was a devotedly 
 
 pious man. His favorite Psalm, that he sung every 
 
 evening, was Watts' version of the fourth Psalm : 
 
 "Lord thou wilt hear me when I pray, 
 I am forever thiue." 
 
 Mary Morris Dickson was a woman of exemplary 
 piety, and was respected amongst her neighbors as 
 a woman of faith and prayer. Whilst the family 
 lived in the neighborhood of North East there was 
 a supply sent out from Pittsburgh to preach in the 
 settlement. This supply, who was a young man, 
 lodged with the Dickson family. On Sabbath morn- 
 ing they proceeded to the place of worship, when 
 the young minister discovered that he had forgotten 
 
8 Memorial. 
 
 to bring his manuscript, and felt himself unable to 
 preach without it. He told his trouble to William 
 Dickson, who advised him to throw himself on the 
 help of Divine Providence, and added that he would 
 go and ask his mother to pray for him, and doubted 
 not that he would get along well. The result was 
 that the congregation were delighted with the won- 
 derful sermon that was delivered, and the young 
 minister was greatly impressed with this new evi- 
 dence of the power of the prayer of faith. 
 
 William Dickson, the son of Captain James and 
 Mary Morris was born in Philipsburgh, Columbia 
 county New York, March twenty-seventh, 1783. 
 In 1789 his father moved westward, passing down 
 through Pennsylvania, and bearing his household 
 with him to new scenes. They first settled in 
 Westmoreland county for ten years, and in 1801 
 went out to Erie county and settled on the heads 
 of the French creek. 
 
 Here William Dickson commenced life for him- 
 self in the southern portion of Erie county. Pa. 
 Here commenced his conflict with the forest that 
 abounded in that region, and with other early 
 settlers initiated the movement that has made this 
 country great. From the first, he was one of the 
 active friends of Gospel institutions. There was 
 not at that time a church, nor an organized congre- 
 gation within an hundred miles. The Presbyteries 
 of Redstone and Ohio were just beginning to send 
 Missionaries, as occasional supplies, out to the lake 
 shore, but their visits were few, and very irregular. 
 
The Early Dawn, 
 
 A man reared as William Dickson had been 
 knew the value of the institutions of the Gospel as 
 well with regard to his own personal welfare as for 
 the common good of the country. With this feeling 
 and conviction he joined with the few neighbors, 
 after the preaching of one of these missionaries, in 
 the erection of a church edifice. This missionary 
 was the Rev. James Satterfield. He preached under 
 a spreading beech tree. Every family in the town- 
 ship had been notified of his coming, and every 
 family was represented. The missionary had lost 
 his way on Saturday, and had slept in the woods 
 over night ; but finding a cabin in the morning and 
 breakfasting on corn bread and potatoes, he was 
 strong for the work. At the close of the service the 
 young men were called together by Mr. Hunter and 
 invited to come together the next Thursday morn- 
 ing with their axes and dinners for the purpose of 
 building a meeting house. By sunrise on the ap- 
 pointed day the men were on the ground, right in 
 the midst of the great forest, and by sundown had 
 completed a church edifice, in those days called a 
 meeting house. There were neither sawed lumber, 
 nor nails nor scrap of iron in the work, yet it was 
 complete in all its appointments, with pulpit and 
 seats and floor and doors. This was the first church 
 building erected in Erie county, and Mr. Dickson 
 regarded his part in the work as the very best work 
 of his life. This house stood as a monument of 
 early Christian enterprise for more than three 
 quarters of a century. 
 
10 Memorial. 
 
 Soon after this William Dickson made a profes- 
 sion of religion, and devoted the remainder of his 
 life to the service of Christ. At the earnest advice 
 of several of the ministers, he removed to Scrub- 
 grass and commenced a course preparatory to the 
 Gospel ministry. But he had a little family depend- 
 ent on him, and after a year of hard application came 
 to the conclusion that under his circumstances he 
 could accomplish more ior the general good in a dif- 
 ferent sphere. He then returned to his farm, and in 
 1818 bought a tract of land in North East township 
 about one and a half miles from Lake Erie. Here the 
 neighbors helped him to build a log cabin that was 
 without board or nail or bit of iron in its construction, 
 with fire-place reaching from wall to wall. It was 
 a primitive dwelling, but just as good as any of his 
 neighbors possessed, and was considered for that day 
 a luxurious abode. Here the five younger children 
 were born and here commenced the work of clearing 
 the forest, opening up and developing the country, 
 and preparing it for the high position it now occu- 
 pies. This log house was the family dwelling until 
 1824, when a new brick house was erected and the 
 new quarters were entered with a feeling of comfort 
 and independence. 
 
 In this neighborhood William Dickson spent the 
 best portion of his life ; clearing the land, farming, 
 engineering, building canal,^ until about the year 
 1837, when he removed to the banks of the Missis- 
 sippi, in Milan, Illinois, where he died November 
 twenty-fifth, 1869, in the eighty-seventh year of his 
 
The Early Dawn. 1 1 
 
 age. He was an eld^r in the church for the larger 
 portion of his life. 
 
 William Dickson was a man of strong fiber, of very 
 decided convictions, a born leader of men, thought- 
 ful, earnest, fearless, and persistent in carrying out to 
 their full accomplishment the plans and purposes of 
 his life. Yet, with all this, he was ever ready to be 
 guided by the indications of Providence. Whilst he 
 was ready to propose to himself, he had the natural 
 instinct of his race to let God dispose, and to ac- 
 knowledge His truth and righteousness. He had a 
 fine, commanding form, a blue eye full of fire, and 
 great readiness of speech that fitted him fop- the 
 public duties to which he was frequently called. 
 
 His early struggles as a young man, and the tra- 
 ditions of his family to which he attached much im- 
 portance, and the broadening influence of the 
 country where he had his early home had given a 
 firmness and a stability to his nature that made him 
 a power and a force amongst his fellow men, and 
 his influence was strongly felt amongst them. And 
 
 his influence was always exerted in the right direc- 
 tion. 
 
 After the death of his first wife, who ^^s Miss 
 Barron, and who left three sons, he married Chris- 
 tiana Moorhead, third daughter of James and Cath- 
 arine Byers Moorhead, who had emigrated from 
 Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, amongst the first 
 settlers of the county. Christiana Moorhead Dick- 
 son was the mother of Cyrus Dickson, the incidents 
 of whose busy and useful life are now to be chroni- 
 
12 Memorial. 
 
 cled. And here was the genuine seed of the mar- 
 tyrs, the fine gold of the stock of God's people. 
 The Moorheads trace their lineage back to the 
 grand, heroic days of Scotland, when, as the Muir- 
 heads, they wore bonnets of blue, and wrapped 
 their plaids about them and laid them down in the 
 quiet caves of the rocks, ready to suffer the loss of 
 all things for Christ and His cross. They belonged 
 to the people who were persecuted to the death un- 
 der the dynasty of the Stuarts, and who counted it 
 all joy to seek the dens and caves of the earth for 
 shelter, for worship, for freedom of conscience. 
 They bore the same blood that coursed through the 
 veins of the Covenanters, whom Charles Stuart con- 
 sidered the offscouring of the earth, but whom God 
 counted His priests and His kings. 
 
 These Scotch-Irish Presbyterians have been and 
 are a wonderful people. When their history is 
 traced ; when their early sufferings are recounted ; 
 when their loyalty to God and Christ and His Church 
 are remembered ; and when their achievements in 
 enterprise and daring and suffering are brought to 
 light in exploring new countries, in building up new 
 governments, in enacting wholesome laws, in pro- 
 moting education, in advancing improvements, in 
 honoring the Bible, the Church and the Sabbath, 
 and in exalting and glorifying God, they must be 
 considerd the very seed royal of the Church of the 
 Living God ! 
 
 Christiana Moorhead Dickson, the mother of Cy- 
 rus, was small of stature, of lithe, graceful form 
 
The Early Dawn, ij 
 
 and carriage, florid complexion, soft blue eyes, with 
 that sweet voice that wins the ear and is such 
 sweet music to the soul. Like Cordelia : 
 
 ** Her voice was ever soft, 
 Gentle, and low ; a most excellent thing: in woman. " 
 
 There was nothing commanding in her presence, 
 nor imperative in her manner, yet, like the excellent 
 woman in Proverbs, she ruled well her own house- 
 hold. Indeed the entire portrait of the virtuous 
 woman, as drawn by the wise man in the last 
 chapter of Proverbs, from the tenth verse to the 
 close, is as true of her as though she had been be- 
 fore the mind of the writer while he sketched the 
 beautiful picture. 
 
 In the frequent absences of her husband, whilst 
 engaged in public business, she managed the farm 
 as well as the house. She was a woman of prin- 
 ciple and of conscience, and in some things much in 
 advance of her neighbors. This was particularly 
 the case in the matter of temperance. A barn was 
 to be raised. The neighbors were invited. The 
 dinner was prepared, and the men were on the 
 ground. After the work had commenced the in- 
 quiry was made for the whiskey which was an inva- 
 riable accompaniment at such times. One of her 
 three brothers present was sent to the house to get 
 it. Mrs. Dickson told him that she could not pro- 
 vide whiskey to make her neighbors drunk. An- 
 other and a third brother was sent, and finally an 
 elder in the church, to expostulate with her and per- 
 suade her to send for the desired beverage. 
 
The little woman made no reply to the elder, but 
 took her bonnet from its nail and walked out where 
 the men were sitting awaiting the elder's coming, 
 and, stepping upon one of the timbers, bared her 
 head and thus addressed them : 
 
 '' My neighbors, this is a strange scene. Three of 
 you are my own brothers ; three of you are elders 
 in the church, and all of you my friends. I have 
 prepared for you the best dinner in my power, but 
 you refuse to work unless I shall provide whiskey for 
 you. This I can never do. If you refuse to raise 
 the building, so be it ; but before I shall furnish 
 whiskey to make my neighbors drunk, these timbers 
 shall rot where they lie. " 
 
 The heroic woman retired to the house and the 
 men dispersed to their homes ; but the former re- 
 tired to her own room and for two hours cried and 
 prayed as though her heart would break. The next 
 morning the men came back and put up the build- 
 ing, and not a word was said about whiskey. But 
 they had a bountiful dinner and just such coffee as 
 a Presbyterian woman could make and all was sat- 
 isfactory. This was the first building that had been 
 put up in the neighborhood without whiskey, but 
 not the last. The example was soon followed by 
 others, and the influence was most salutary. 
 
 Still the matter of temperance had not, as yet, as- 
 sumed the importance attached to it in modern times. 
 It was a common thing to find whiskey on sale in 
 nearly all the stores in the country. Mr. Dickson 
 kept it in his store. His wife remonstrated. She 
 
The Early Dawn. 75 
 
 begged him to quit the traffic. So earnest and per- 
 sistent were her entreaties that he finally promised 
 that when the present stock was exhausted he 
 would purchase no more. But the boys were grow- 
 ing up, and she feared for the influence the sight 
 and sale of the article might have upon them. One 
 evening, at family prayers, Mrs. Dickson remained 
 on her knees after the rest of the family had arisen. 
 Thinking something was wrong her husband spoke 
 to her. She replied : " I am praying for you that 
 God would give you a better mind, and I feel as 
 though I would never rise from my knees until you 
 give me the promise that you will throw your 
 whiskey into the street, and never have anything 
 more to do with it. " 
 
 The promise was made, the whiskey was thrown 
 into the gutter and never brought into the house 
 or the store again. 
 
 She was the very light and centre and joy of the 
 home. Not only did the heart of her husband safe- 
 ly trust in her, but her children loved her, revered 
 her counsels, and were, one by one, under her sweet 
 counsels and godly example, and by the blessing of 
 God, led to the Saviour of sinners as their hope and 
 their life. 
 
 This godly mother did not live to see her sons 
 enter upon their profession, but her strong faith 
 commended them to God, and as she fell asleep she 
 felt that it would be well with the boys. The 
 prayers of pious parents are of incalculable value. 
 They go up and and enter into the ears of God and 
 
i6 MemoriaL 
 
 are registered for eternal remembrance. They may 
 not all be answered at once, nor in the exact terms of 
 the asking, but answered they are, or will be, in God's 
 own good time. They are like the vapors that 
 arise from the bosom of some silver lake hidden 
 away amid the hills. They seem to be lost as 
 they ascend into the regions of the atmosphere. 
 The heavens look blue and pellucid as before ; but 
 those pure vapors are not lost. They have ascend- 
 ed upon the wings of the breath of God. They will 
 appear again in the form of the little silver cloud that 
 will float away and become golden in the light of the 
 setting sun. They will form the dark visaged cloud 
 on whose bosom will be drawn the magnificent 
 arch of the rainbow. They will gather into the 
 rugged outlines of the great motherly cloud from 
 whose capacious reservoir will come down the sum- 
 mer rain that will refresh the thirsty earth, that 
 will bring out the flowers in their beauty, and clothe 
 the fields with corn. Even so the prayers of a pious 
 mother offered up in the faith of a loving, trusting 
 heart, will be heard, though the answer tarry long. 
 The blessing will come down like the early and lat- 
 ter rain, even though it be delayed until the voice 
 of that mother is heard among the singers before 
 the throne. 
 
 A few years ago, a stranger met a son of this 
 praying woman and related to him his religious ex- 
 perience in the following words : "When I was a 
 wild, wicked young man I passed the room in 
 North East, where a female prayer meeting was in 
 
The Early Dawn. ly 
 
 progress. Curiosity induced me to tarry a moment 
 at the door, when I recognized the voice of Mrs. 
 Dickson. She was praying for me by name, and 
 her petitions were so earnest and so importunate 
 that conviction seized upon my heart, and I found 
 peace alone in the blood of Jesus." 
 
 Mrs. Dickson died suddenly, of apoplexy, on the 
 twenty-seventh day of January, 1836, in the fifty- 
 third year of her age, and, to human vision, in the 
 very midst of her usefulness. The college boys 
 were absent, and the home was full of sadness, but 
 the ways of the Lord are true and righteous, and 
 all things shall work together for good to his chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Such were the parents of Cyrus Dickson. And 
 with such an ancestry, and with such blood in his 
 veins, it might well be hoped that, by the grace of 
 God, his record would be one on which the sunlight 
 might gather, and of which the Church might be 
 justly and righteously proud. 
 
 Cyrus Dickson was born on the twentieth day of 
 December, 18 16. The place was on the shore of 
 Lake Erie in North East township, Erie county, 
 Pennsylvania. The family home at that time was 
 on an equality with the homes of the neighbors, 
 a log cabin one story in height. Not far away was 
 the mighty forest, and here and there openings had 
 been made by the clearings of the neighbors, with 
 their first primitive cabins. It was just at sunset 
 when the announcement was made, that has 
 brought joy into the world for six thousand years. 
 
i8 Memorial, 
 
 that a man child was born. The next day, in ac- 
 cordance with the customs of the time, the neigh- 
 bors assembled to see the little stranger, and tender 
 their congratulations to the parents. The boy was 
 presented in due form, congratulations were offered, 
 and the hospitalities of the home extended, when 
 the company departed. In those days when the 
 people were few and dependent on each other for 
 mutual protection and comfort, an event like this 
 caused more than a gentle ripple on the current of 
 society. It was an epoch in the history of the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 In the early infancy of the child, his father had 
 been reading with great interest the life of Cyrus 
 the Persian. He had compared the prophecies of 
 Isaiah concerning him with the life of the man, and 
 the wonderful incidents connected with his work in 
 the conquest of Babylon, and the deliverance of Is- 
 rael from the seventy years' captivity, and was filled 
 with such admiration for the man and his work 
 that he resolved that the young son that had so 
 recently come into his family should be called 
 Cyrus. He was baptized by Rev. Johnston Eaton, 
 who was preaching at that time at North East for 
 a portion of his time. 
 
 As the boy grew up he had the inestimable 
 advantage of the counsels and prayers of a mother 
 who was one of a thousand. His earliest recollec- 
 tions were associated with quiet talks about Jesus 
 and the way of salvation, and earnest prayers for 
 his temporal and spiritual welfare. At the time of 
 
The Early Dawn. ig 
 
 the morning and evening prayer ; ' in the midst of 
 the quiet home duties ; in the walks in the garden 
 and in the forest ; and as they sat down at the close 
 of the day, waiting for the night to gather, the 
 same gentle ministries were carried forward, and 
 always received with a gentle feeling that there 
 was love and goodness in the mother's work. In 
 this way the boy grew up in the knowledge and 
 love of Christ and on the wing of the strong faith 
 of a loving mother's heart was won to a life ser- 
 vice to the Saviour of sinners. 
 
 It was always the custom to have family worship 
 in the household ; and in the absence of the father 
 the mother took his place and the duty was never 
 omitted. Even before Cyrus made a profession of 
 religion, he would at times assist his mother by 
 taking his turn in conducting family prayers. 
 
 This public profession of religion was made in 
 the month of August, 183 1, in the fifteenth year of 
 his age. What his early religious exercises were ; 
 what his conflicts and successes ; what his prayers 
 and their answers ; and what his resolutions and 
 soul-consecration, we cannot say, for he was quiet 
 and reticent, and made no record of his inner life, 
 feeling that this was a matter between God and his 
 own soul. But we know that even then his 
 thoughts were deep and earnest. If he prayed, he 
 looked for an answer to his petitions. If he had 
 faith, he wanted to see daily fruits of that faith. 
 He wanted to feel day by day the presence and 
 power of God's Holy Spirit. To him religion was 
 
20 Memorial. 
 
 not merely a name or a profession, but a living, 
 abounding reality, even in the days when like 
 Amos, the herdman of Tekoa, he kept his father's 
 kine, or dressed the Sycamore trees in the grove. 
 
 And here, amid these quiet, sylvan scenes, was 
 there noticed the bud and the blossom of that strong, 
 vigorous life that bore such clusters of beauty and 
 richness when he was called to the Lord's work in 
 the pastoral office, and in the Secretary's bureau. 
 
 In the days of his boyhood there were not the 
 educational privileges of the present. There was 
 the conflict with the forest. The mighty trees had 
 not all been felled. That wonderfully beautiful 
 Lake Shore region had not then put on the garden- 
 like appearance that belongs to it now. There was 
 work for all, in the clearing, in the field, and around 
 the homestead, and the future Gospel minister was 
 familiar with the axe, the hoe, and the plow. Per- 
 haps even then he had quiet dreams of a richer 
 husbandry than cutting down the forests and scatter- 
 ing the rich wheat upon the furrowed ground. Per- 
 haps even then he thought of sowing the seed of 
 the word, and the gathering in of the glorious har- 
 vest of God. 
 
 What the memories of this old time home were, and 
 how they clung to him, and what impression they 
 made upon his mind, may be seen from two letters 
 written to his father, during his pastoral life at 
 Wheeling. They were penned on two of his birth- 
 days, most probably in the quiet of his study. These 
 birth-days seem to have been observed by him as 
 
The Early Dawn. 21 
 
 times of special thought and reflection, and to have 
 been marked with white stones as the old Romans 
 noted their sacred days. His wonderful imagination 
 had brought up the past in all its vividness and 
 beauty. Though a strong man yet, with the experi- 
 ence of one who had battled with the world and won, 
 he now looks through the child's eyes, and every- 
 thing is tinted with gold. He is the child once 
 more. He hears his father's voice. He looks upon 
 his mother's golden hair and into her deep, soft eyes, 
 and the world's cares and toils are forgotten. Sweet 
 dreams of peace are upon him. He is no longer sur- 
 rounded by the bustle and roar of the city, but amid 
 the forest shades, with the sweet music of the bil- 
 lows of Lake Erie sounding in the distance. 
 
 And then he thinks of the loved ones in the pic- 
 ture, as having gone up to stand before the throne, 
 and their voices are soft and sweet like the distant 
 tones of silver bells ! Then a feeling of gratitude and 
 thankfulness comes into his heart for all the good- 
 ness of the past, and the sweet hopes of the coming 
 life and the coming glory ! 
 
 These letters give us glimpses of the boy and of 
 the man at the same time, and show us something 
 of his inner life and the wonderful resources of hi? 
 mental and spiritual nature. 
 
 To his father, on his thirty-seventh Birthday. 
 
 Wheeling, Dec. 20, 1853, 
 "My birthday brings to my mind the old log 
 house in which I was born, with its window to- 
 
22 Me7noriaL 
 
 ward the road and the lake — Its little porch in 
 front. Then I remember the 'addition' of one story, 
 built at the west side, towards the garden — then, 
 at a later day, 'the new room', built at the south 
 end, with its sunny window and brick chimney 
 that had jambs. The fireplace in the old house 
 had none and could accommodate a 'back log' al- 
 most as long as the house itself. I remember the 
 well, first boarded up, and then walled with stone, 
 with the buttonwood curb, with the notch to let 
 the well pole go down farther, when the water was 
 low. I remember old Ned and Bob the sorrel 
 horse, that would not let every body catch him. 
 And there was old Lion and little black Trip, dogs 
 dear to my childhood. 
 
 How well I remember the day when you and 
 James, (who by the way I thought the greatest 
 young man of his day), started with old Ned and 
 the little wagon all the way to Zanesville to see 
 Aunt Betsey — a trip to China would appear no 
 greater now than that did then. Away to Zmiesville ! 
 I remember too how as a tired little boy I slept 
 near you in the 'trundle-bed', and slept and dreamed 
 so sweetly. The same boy used to lie on his back 
 on the grass in the door yard and look up into the 
 clear blue sky and wonder where heaven and God 
 were, and if he should ever see God. Then he 
 began to long to be a minister, or rather a preacher. 
 
 A thousand memories more press upon my 
 mind, or rather bubble up in my heart like a foun- 
 tain. 
 
The Ea7dy Dawn. 2^ 
 
 I humbly hope that the merciful kindness that 
 has upheld me hitherto will continue to sustain. 
 My earnest desire is to be more obedient to the di- 
 vine will. A review of my past days affords me 
 but little pleasure. So many golden days misspent, 
 so many means of improvement to myself, and use- 
 fulness to others, neglected. So many solemn res- 
 olutions broken, in short, so much of sin in every 
 thing, that the retrospect is a sad one. My only 
 hope is in Him whose blood cleanseth from all sin. 
 
 I am now, I imagine, on the short end of the 
 road. Twice 37 are 74, to which I never expect to 
 attain. Human life would be a sorrowful pilgrim- 
 age if there was no rest expected at the end." 
 
 To his Father on his 42d birthday. 
 
 Baltimore, Dec. 20, 1858. 
 I would not relinquish the memories of the old 
 log house with its morning and evening worship, 
 for the splendor of palaces. I can hear your voice 
 now, and mother's, and James', and William's, and 
 the younger ones' in the old familiar tunes. I can 
 see the big 'back-log,' and 'fore-stick' on the fire of 
 a winter's night and can hear the chapters, and the 
 hymns, and the prayers that entered my childish 
 heart never to pass away. These memories con- 
 nect me with heaven, for many of those who sat 
 around the warming winter fire, are now in the 
 calm, sweet sunshine of the everlasting paradise of 
 God. Their song and worship is with the countless 
 congregation." 
 
2^ Memorial. 
 
 He was his mother's boy, partaking not only of 
 her warm, affectionate nature, and her deep, earnest 
 sympathies, but clinging closely and firmly to her, 
 in childhood, in early manhood, and in his life-long 
 memories after she had been called to the perfect 
 world. He loved to linger in her presence in the 
 early home. He strove to lighten her toils. He 
 was glad to share, as far as possible, her cares. He 
 was happy in the sweet sunlight of her smile. Her 
 counsels were to him fine gold, to be treasured up 
 in his secret heart, and to be improved in the daily 
 ordering of his life. 
 
 And whilst that mother's counsels, as regards the 
 religious life, were not obtrusive, nor enforced at un- 
 due seasons, nor in a harsh, magisterial way, their 
 influence was most sweet and persuasive. There 
 was back of all a quiet, consistent, religious life, she 
 lived for herself, and the hallowed influence she ex- 
 erted upon others. Then her counsel came out to 
 the boy quietly and naturally as the perfume flows 
 forth from the flowers, or the light from the stars, 
 and the result was most blessed and hallowed on 
 the life of the boy, and continued to bless and 
 strengthen the man. 
 
 In his childhood days he attended the country 
 school and obtained from the teachers of that day 
 the elements of an education that was to be supple- 
 mented by the Academy and the College. The 
 humble school house on which the sun's rays beat 
 down fiercely in summer, and around which the 
 winter winds howled so furiously was the scene of 
 
The Early Dawn. 2§ 
 
 his first exploits as he thumbed the pages of Web- 
 ster's Spelling Book, the English Reader, and Da,- 
 boll's Arithmetic, diversified by the study of the 
 quaint pages of the New England Primer. 
 
 In those days ladies taught in the summer and 
 gentlemen in the winter. They were not vigorous 
 nor accomplished scholars ; but they were diligent 
 students of Solomon, and in their practice carried 
 out his precepts to the letter, as far as discipline 
 was concerned. They never spoiled the child by 
 sparing the rod. If they did not advance their stu- 
 dents over a large amount of ground, they did give 
 them line upon line and precept upon precept, going 
 over the few elementary studies again and again 
 until they could not fail of becoming familiar with 
 them in all their details. 
 
 It was not until leaving home that there was much 
 opportunity of pursuing any studies beyond the 
 simplest rudiments of an English education. But 
 there came to the boy in the quiet home life the 
 same call that greeted the unwilling ears of Jonah 
 the son of Amittai. "Go preach the preaching that 
 I bid thee." And the call fell on no unwilling ears. 
 It came to him like the sweet South, full of all 
 sweetness and inspiring all joyfulness and hopeful- 
 ness. 
 
 It seemed as though there was in the joyous 
 spirit of the boy in his plays something of the 
 forecast of the life labors of the man. He was a 
 preacher from his childhood. In the plays of 
 childhood there is always the putting on of the 
 
26 Memorial. 
 
 cares and burdens of mature life. There is the 
 imitation of all forms of business and responsibil- 
 ity. With the light-hearted and joyous there is the 
 taking on of the burdens that crush and wear out 
 the strong and the mature. There is the eager 
 longing for mature manhood and womanhood. 
 
 In these mimic plays there was often that of the 
 church service. And when the little congregation 
 assembled with well simulated gravity, by common 
 consent, young Cyrus was always expected to play 
 the role of preacher. And this position he always 
 maintained with gravity and to the entire satisfac- 
 tion of the audience. 
 
 He was known among his fellows as a bright, 
 cheerful, hopeful boy, eager and impetuous in his 
 spirits, and always striving to show kindness and 
 sympathy towards his companions. No shout was 
 louder than his in the playground ; no one excelled 
 him in the sports of the recess, and when the hour 
 of study came there was the same diligence over 
 his books and the same devotion to home duties. 
 What he did was done with a will and a desire to 
 excel. 
 
 In those early days he developed a decided mili- 
 tary taste. Whether it was the rebound of the in- 
 fluence and association of his name, or the result 
 of his early reading of "Plutarch's Lives," or the 
 natural bent of his mind in this direction we do 
 not know. But the taste was so strong that some 
 of his companions supposed that he was destined 
 for army life, and even honored him with a milita- 
 
The Early Dawn. 2'/ 
 
 ry title by a kind of brevet that clung to him 
 whilst he remained at home. He was a leader and 
 an organizer then as he was in after life. 
 
 But he was to be simply a soldier of the cross. 
 He was to be but a member of the grand army of 
 the Lord that is to go on conquering and to con- 
 quer, even though the soldiers fall at the front and 
 give place to others. But he was to occupy a 
 prominent position in the high places of the field. 
 And the early training and discipline and self-de- 
 pendence, and self-assertion of the boy served to 
 assist in the thorough preparation of the man for 
 the varied and important work that was before him. 
 In all these ways and by all these varied paths the 
 hand of the Great Teacher was guiding him and 
 moulding and influencing him for his work in the 
 upbuilding of His kingdom. 
 
 "The cliild is father of the man." 
 
 There were the same traits traceable, in a small- 
 er degree, in the child at home that characterized 
 the mature man, engaged in his sacred calling. 
 The flame that finally consumed the Secretary, was 
 kindled up in childhood, and prevailed in boyhood 
 and early manhood. The young boy student had 
 the same singleness of aim, and devotion of pur- 
 pose that characterized the man. And down by 
 the shore of Lake Erie, with its scenes of wondrous 
 beauty, the diligent zeal was kindled that was to 
 burn and glow in the great Metropolis of the country 
 until its light and influence should reach out over 
 the great prairies of the west, beyond the mighty 
 
28 Memorial. 
 
 towers of the Rocky mountains, and along the ma- 
 jestic slope of the Pacific. 
 
 The boy began the work of the man, and seemed 
 straightened until that work was accomplished. 
 And what though that zeal did consume him } 
 What though the lamp did seem to burn all too 
 brightly for the continuance of its light, when it 
 was to be of such signal benefit to the Church and 
 the world, in leading them onward in their prog- 
 ress } In the boy it was the kindling up of a flame 
 that urged him forward to begin the work of prep- 
 aration and to the completion of his studies. It 
 was to lead him to the contemplation of great 
 thoughts and good purposes ; to deepen his convic- 
 tions ; to broaden his views, and inspire his courage 
 for the great work to which a mother's love had set 
 him apart ; to which the voice of God had called 
 him in the secret chambers of his heart ; and to 
 which his country and the world were inviting him. 
 
 And in all this child-life the appreciative mind 
 can notice the hand and the voice of the mother. 
 From the day of his birth she had dedicated him to 
 the Lord. With a strong faith in the God of her 
 fathers and her own God, she had the conviction 
 that the offering would be accepted and her best 
 wishes fulfilled. On one occasion she said to a 
 friend : ''I devoted him to the Lord from the hour 
 of his birth ; and I have prayed, O how earnestly, 
 that God would spare his life and make him a 
 minister of the Gospel." And this anxiety never 
 ceased. It found its embodiment in the quiet talks, 
 
The Early Dawn. 2g 
 
 in the judicious advice as to reading and thinking 
 and praying. And above ail, it was manifested 
 beyond a doubt in the eafnest supplication before 
 God in the secret place of prayer. There this 
 godly woman was in the habit of bringing all her 
 troubles and cares and anxieties, and there she left 
 them, knowing how strong the shoulder is that 
 bears up the whole universe. 
 
 And this inheritance of registered prayers in the 
 secret place of the Most High is better than the 
 gold mines of Nevada or the diamond fields of the 
 Orient. It brought light and joy to the little boy 
 who played around the Dickson homestead ; to the 
 school boy who sat on the low benches of the un- 
 comfortable country school house ; to the minister 
 in the desk ; to the secretary in his office ; and to 
 the humble, trusting Christian man when he laid 
 him down to die, when his work was accomplished. 
 
II. THE STUDENT. 
 
 "I zvould study, I would htow, I would admire for- 
 ever. These works of thoiLght have been the enter- 
 tainments of the huniait spirit in all ages'' 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 ''Wisdom is the principal thing; Therefore get 
 wisdom ; and with all thy getting get understanding,'' 
 
 Prov. IV. 7. 
 
II. THE STUDENT. 
 
 The bright, active lad had long been dedicated to 
 the Lord for the Gospel ministry. Many a council 
 had been held. Many plans had been discussed. 
 The parents had resolved themselves into a com- 
 mittee of ways and means. There was the farm, 
 but very little money found its way into the treas- 
 ury of the household. There was plenty of wheat 
 and corn ; but neither of these valuable commodi- 
 ties would bring money in the market, even at a 
 low nominal price. Live stock was not in demand ; 
 even the white fleeces of the sheep could be used 
 only in the home manufacture of yarn and cloth for 
 family use. The call upon the father for occasional 
 service in the public works always brought money ; 
 but this was by no means a constant source of sup- 
 ply. There was plenty but not in the precise 
 shape that would be necessary in order to meet the 
 expenses of the college and other places of educa- 
 tion. How was the all important matter to be 
 brought about .'* 
 
 But these parents had been in the habit of trust- 
 ing in the word of the Lord, and they now resolved 
 to do what seemed to them duty, and leave the 
 matter of a complete solution of the problem to 
 Providence. 
 
j^ Memorial, 
 
 The young man was taken into the council. 
 There must be a course of long and severe study, 
 with close economy on the part of the boy. This 
 was explained to him ; and the boy well knew that 
 there would be diligence and economy in the home, 
 with self-denial and many a sacrifice with all par- 
 ties. But there was to the boy the inward impulse 
 of a strong, hopeful nature, born of the Spirit of 
 God ; and on the part of the parents their early 
 vow to God ; their dedication of their son to the 
 work of preaching the gospel, and on the mother's 
 part the dream that had been in her sleeping and 
 waking thoughts from the day he was born, that 
 her son was to be called to honor God in the Gos- 
 pel of His Son. And to accomplish all these 
 things there was the willing heart, the earnest pur- 
 pose and the soul's utmost endeavor. 
 
 Just at that time Providence favored the move- 
 ment. A teacher had opened a school somewhat 
 above the ordinary grade in the near neighborhood. 
 On the twentieth day of December, 183 1, Cyrus com- 
 menced going to the school of Joseph M. Hays, as 
 the preparatory step to schools of a higher grade. 
 Here he probably began the Latin Grammar, with 
 a look into Algebra, and the elementary departments 
 of Natural Science. 
 
 Early the next Spring arrangements were in 
 progress to send him to a school of higher grade. 
 All things were arranged. The slender wardrobe 
 was packed in the modest trunk. The mother's 
 kiss was given to the boy at the gate as both strug- 
 
The Student. jj 
 
 gled to be brave, and the first separation took place, 
 the gentle, weeping mother knowing well that her 
 boy was leaving the roof tree of home to return no 
 more as its permanent inmate. 
 
 The Erie Academy was selected as the place to 
 begin the work. On the morning of April seven- 
 teenth 1832, father and son entered the grounds of 
 the old Academy where so many have learned the 
 elements of an education that has advanced them in 
 business and professional life. And as the youth 
 looked at the venerable stone building, and listened 
 to the shouts of the boys who had not yet been 
 called in to their studies he wondered if he would 
 ever feel at home among them. 
 
 The institution was at that time presided over by 
 Asa E. Foster, a graduate of an eastern college, 
 and a famous teacher in his day. He was a tall, 
 grave, clerical looking man, who never smiled save 
 when the Greek verb ''Tuptd' was conjugated reg- 
 ularly ; or when some crisp sentence in Horace 
 was translated happily. He was always dressed in 
 black, was always dignified, and always had the best 
 interests of his scholars at heart. With him our 
 young neophite commenced anew the mysteries of 
 Ross' Latin Grammar, with its close and inseparable 
 companion, "Historia Sacra," and great was his joy 
 when he was able to translate and parse the first 
 sentence in the latter : *'Deus creavit coelum et 
 terra intra sex dies." 
 
 The young man made good progress. With his 
 natural brightness and ambition to excel and his 
 
^6 Memorial. 
 
 knowledge of the hopes of his parents for his best 
 interests, and their ardent prayers for his future 
 success, he gave himself wholly to his books and 
 preparation for College. And in these early strug- 
 gles the boy learned those habits of diligence and 
 self-denial and economy that served him so well in 
 all his professional life. In the exercise of these he 
 was carried successfully through his higher grades 
 of studies, his early settlement as pastor in a poor, 
 struggling congregation, as well as in conducting 
 successfully and economically the benevolent affairs 
 of the Church at large. The foundations were being 
 laid for a work that was to astonish the Church in 
 the coming days. 
 
 There is something noble and admirable in these 
 early life struggles through which so many of our 
 educated and professional men pass. The attain- 
 ment of an education by individual effort, put forth 
 almost single handed, is one of the fruits gathered 
 from the tree of knowledge that does not turn to 
 ashes on the lip. It brings about a discipline of 
 all the powers of the mind and all the resources of 
 the soul. It gives self-reliance, forms a habit of 
 study that is not easily broken up, and engenders 
 an independence of thought and action, that admir- 
 ably fits the young scholar for the stern duties and 
 requirements of life. The most important places 
 in the Church and in the State are filled by men 
 who were born and reared amid the struggles of a 
 narrow estate and who carved out the way to success 
 with their own strong hands, and who were familiar 
 
The Student. jy 
 
 with the hardships and labors pertaining to self ef- 
 fort. 
 
 The plenty of the home and the abundance of pe- 
 cuniary resources, and future prospects of the young 
 often cut the sinews of mental activity and dwarf 
 and paralyze those who else might have been active 
 and great amongst their fellows. The muscles of 
 the mind, the intellect, the understanding, require 
 to be exercised as do those of the body, and the 
 very life and death struggles of many an earnest 
 soul, are the means of developing powers and capa- 
 bilities that had never been known nor suspected 
 without these struggles. The Heavenly Father 
 knows best what training his children need to fit 
 them for their high calling. And the earnest toil- 
 ing and the patient waiting will be more than recom- 
 pensed by the strength and powers of endurance of 
 the heart and soul in the great work of life. 
 
 The young student was at home once more. The 
 Autumn-time had come. The wheat had been cut, 
 bound into bundles and stowed away in the barn, 
 and the fragrant hay in the mow. But these once 
 familiar things were losing their interest in the 
 eyes of the scholar. Even in the brief summer that 
 had passed, he had obtained glimpses into a new 
 world — a world of thought, of knowledge, of power 
 growing out of that knowledge. He had glanced 
 into but few books as yet, and had mastered none ; 
 but he had had glimpses into something great and 
 wonderful that might be attained by the diligent 
 soul. This something was dim and obscure, and 
 
j8 Memojnal, 
 
 but half formed in his mind ; yet he felt that there 
 was a reality in it. It was like the glimpses we get 
 in the deep star-light as we peer into the Nebulae 
 of Andromeda, seeming like a distant window, re- 
 vealing a deeper heaven and a more glorious pros- 
 pect, if we could but approach a little nearer to it. 
 And with this view opening to his mind in the dim 
 distance, the student resolved in his inmost soul 
 that he would pursue the light until his object was 
 accomplished. A love of study had been kindled up 
 in his soul that must be gratified. The student life 
 had now fairly commenced, and henceforth there was 
 to be neither farm nor merchandise. 
 
 He was now to go to college. His father had 
 been long familiar with Jefferson college through 
 its students. He knew its traditional history. All 
 his old friends amongst the ministers had graduated 
 there ; and above all he felt that a special blessing 
 had always rested upon the Institution. A large 
 portion of its students had entered the ministry, 
 and it had been the scene of many precious revi- 
 vals, as the Spirit of God had been poured out upon 
 it, reviving those who were Christians and bringing 
 many who were outside of the Church within its 
 pale. Jefferson College was therefore selected as 
 the college home of the young student. The young 
 man was soon domiciled amid the hills of Washing- 
 ton County, and learned to climb the hill on which 
 the ancient town of Canonsburg is located. He 
 made the fatherly acquaintance of Dr. Brown, and 
 soon felt himself at home amid the new surround- 
 
The Student, jg 
 
 ings, entering the preparatory department on the 
 first of November, 1832. 
 
 There is extant the first letter written after leav- 
 ing home. It is addressed to his mother, and is 
 reproduced to show the honest, simple, and con- 
 scientious heart of the boy, at his entrance upon 
 college life. Even its crudities are interesting as 
 showing the good, solid foundation on which the 
 fine mental structure was reared in after years. He 
 was at this time in his sixteenth year. 
 
 Jefferson College, Cononsburg, Penn., 
 
 Nov. 19, 1832. 
 My Dear Mother : 
 
 It is with various feelings that I take the liberty 
 of conversing with you through the medium of 
 
 writing I shall give you the details of our 
 
 journey. On Monday we only reached Erie ; on 
 Tuesday Salem, Ohio. Wednesday we staid at An- 
 dover, Thursday at Youngstown, Saturday and Sun- 
 day at Economy, and Monday we arrived at the far 
 
 famed city of Pittsburg We crossed the two 
 
 rivers, and then went up the Monongahela to Eliza- 
 bethtown, and crossed the river and then proceeded 
 to Mr. Johnston's on Tuesday and spent the day, 
 and took our departure on Wednesday morning, and 
 arrived here the same night. Father and I spent 
 the next day in searching for boarding for myself, 
 which was obtained. My spirits were low at 
 the thought of separating from father and John. 
 On Friday I entered college and took my leave of 
 them ; but O ! language cannot express the emo- 
 
40 Memorial. 
 
 tion of my soul. It was like the rending of one limb 
 
 from another Father told me that he thought 
 
 you and he would come to see me next summer. 
 I hope you may ; if not I think I shall visit you 
 next fall, as a party of students talk of visiting the 
 Falls of Niagara on foot. Should this be the case, 
 and you not come here next summer, I think I will 
 accompany them as far as North East. 
 
 My companion is a religious young man, and has 
 the same object before him that I have. We attend 
 to worship in our room morning and night. I hope 
 that you will not forget me in your prayers, as I 
 have great need of support. Tell Amos Gould that 
 I want him to come here as soon as he can, for I 
 want companions from that part of the world. It is 
 now, my dear parents, that I feel more than ever 
 the want of your direction and guidance ; and it is 
 now more than ever that I feel the loss of the family 
 altar, but blessed be God, he has given us the hope 
 that if we should never meet again on earth we may 
 meet in another world, where we shall never part. 
 My dear parents, I would now, as I never expect to 
 live with you as I have done in the former part of 
 my life, humbly entreat your pardon for everything 
 in which I have wounded your feelings, and espec- 
 ially in religious matters ; and I would now return 
 my warmest thanks for the interest and never ceas- 
 ing care which you have exercised over me from my 
 cradle to the present moment. I never expect to be 
 able to compensate you for it, but I pray that the 
 Lord may reward you in this life and in that which 
 
The Student. ^i 
 
 is to come. My love to all the rest of the family — 
 I wish you all to write. Nothing more at present 
 
 from your dutiful son until death. 
 
 Cyrus Dickson. 
 P. S. My respects to all my friends. 
 
 The famous institution was then at the very 
 height of its popularity, and was thronged with stu- 
 dents from all parts of the country, notably so from 
 the Southern States. There was a magnetism about 
 Dr. Matthew Brown that attracted students where- 
 ever his influence was felt. The wildest young men 
 respected him, and all yielded to his fatherly coun- 
 sels and felt that he was their friend. 
 
 The students were accommodated with boarding 
 houses in different parts of the town. Some found 
 a. home in the old college building, and some on the 
 college farm, or Fort Tusculum, as it was called, 
 and others in private houses that were opened for 
 their accommodation, and made often very pleasant 
 homes by the care and attention of the inmates. 
 There were some also who boarded in clubs, the de- 
 tails of which were managed by themselves, and 
 the arrangements adapted to their own ideas 
 of economy. Mr. Dickson seems at first to have 
 had his home in the old College. Letters to his 
 father and mother at this time give an idea of the 
 way in which he commenced his college life. 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 Jefferson College, Canonsburg, 
 
 December, 24, 1832. 
 • • • I enjoy as good health as I ever did, with 
 
42 MemoriaL 
 
 the exception of a few fits of homesickness. ' • • 
 In your letter you requested me to send you a 
 statement of my examination, what class I entered, 
 &c. In the first place the faculty did not examine 
 me, but on the account I gave of my progress they 
 put me in the Caesar class, which book I find quite 
 easy. My situation is very pleasant, and I now 
 feel quite reconciled, although at first it seemed to 
 me that I could not content myself surrounded by 
 these lofty hills, which seem as barriers to the ap- 
 proach of man. ... In regard to religious duties 
 I endeavor to follow your advice as far as possible. 
 Last week I presented my certificate to Dr. Brown, 
 and I communed with the church yesterday. Dr. 
 Brown is very mindful of me, as he calls frequently 
 at my room, and converses with and gives me good 
 advice which I find very useful. 
 
 Your dutiful son, 
 
 Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 to his mother. 
 
 Jefferson College, December 24th, 1832. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 The reception of your letter gave me 
 much pleasure, especially as you said my parting 
 with you gave you but little pain, and that you 
 hoped you had dedicated me to God. It is now 
 that I know how to prize you, for I am sensible 
 that the person who never lives away from home 
 cannot value his parents, and I trust being sepa- 
 rated from my earthly parents may lead me to live 
 
The Student. 43 
 
 nearer to that Heavenly Parent who is the giver of 
 all good. . . . Last Thursday I was 16 years old. 
 It was a solemn day to me, and I trust spent in a 
 better manner than any of my former birthdays. 
 
 Your affectionate son, 
 
 Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 At this time a farm was connected with the insti- 
 tution, that was designed to afford facilities for man- 
 ual labor amongst the students. It was supposed to 
 be adapted to the promotion of health as well as to 
 relieve somewhat the burden of college expenses. 
 A building was provided for studies and dormitories, 
 the two being combined in one. Sometimes these 
 rooms served as kitchen, dormitory and study, all 
 combined in one. The land was plowed by the col- 
 lege team and divided into lots and assigned to the 
 students for cultivation. They were usually planted 
 in potatoes, and the work was performed during the 
 intervals of study. As a matter of exercise it worked 
 very well, as the time could readily be spared from 
 books and was not greater; than occupied for exer- 
 cise in other directions. And with a favorable sea- 
 son and the ordinary care of the crop, the proceeds 
 were by no means to be undervalued by the student 
 anxious to practice economy. 
 
 The first session was a laborious one to the stu- 
 dent as his studies at the Academy had not been 
 well balanced with reference to the classes in col- 
 lege. As he was in advance of his class in some 
 studies and behind in others, an extra amount of 
 
44 Memorial. 
 
 study was necessary. But the work went forward. 
 Caesar's Commentaries were diligently conned, and 
 the work commenced in the Graeca Minora, with 
 Algebra and Geometry. The winter wore away at 
 last and the spring vacation commenced with the 
 plans for the coming summer. Mr. Dickson arrang- 
 ed to go over to the farm and take up his quarters 
 at Fort Tusculum. the following letters to his fa- 
 ther speak of this arrangement, and of the pros- 
 pects of work in connection with study : 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 March, 1833. 
 ''Agreeably to your desire and my own I have got 
 a place on the farm. My room-mate will be Jacob 
 Hall, a nephew of Mrs. Conrad. The terms are 
 these : every student shall pay seventy-five cents 
 and work six hours every week for his board, then 
 after he has finished this six hours he may work 
 more (if he chooses) to any amount and it shall be 
 deducted from the weekly seventy-five cents." 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 June, 1833. 
 '' I have the eighth of an acre in potatoes which 
 have just come up and look quite thrifty, but I fear 
 they will not be ready to be raised before the 
 beginning of next session. If this should be the 
 case I will be obliged to pay my boarding for this 
 session in cash and not realize any benefit from 
 them until I return. However it will be as good 
 then as now." 
 
The Student. ^5 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 April, 1834. 
 
 "Dr. Brown says I shall have half an acre, which, 
 if the season is favorable, will furnish a very good 
 crop. Next season Mr. Dickson, the student, will 
 stop occasionally and converse with Cyrus, the 
 farmer." 
 
 The summer of 1833 was passed finishing up the 
 studies of the Preparatory Department and the ex. 
 ercise of the field, and, with health improved by the 
 work, he was ready in the fall of that year to enter 
 the regular classes, a full fledged Freshman, feeling 
 perhaps more elated with his new dignity than he 
 did when he graduated at the close of his college 
 studies. 
 
 Perhaps it is well that we do not see at first the 
 heights to which we must ascend in preparation for 
 the great affairs of this life, else we would be utter- 
 ly discouraged ere the work was accomplished, and 
 sit down in despondency. But, as it is, the work 
 grows upon us and we see only as we advance the 
 rising eminences up which we must toil. And so in 
 the morning hours we urge our way upward think- 
 ing that we shall be up ere long, and as we proceed 
 faith and courage increase and we find ourselves 
 at work at evening's close just as in the morning's 
 dawn. And our lives are better for the work and 
 the faith and the trial. 
 
 During his college course the student formed 
 many valuable acquaintances that were useful to 
 him through life. They were men who took prom- 
 
^6 Memorial. 
 
 inent positions in life, in the learned professions, and 
 in business, and in scientific and literary life. They 
 were men who often sat in the councils of the na- 
 tion, who administered its laws and who went as 
 Missionaries to India, and China, and who laid 
 down their lives for the Lord's sake. 
 
 He took an active part in the Brainard Evengeli- 
 cal Society. This was a society of religious students 
 whose object was the promotion of personal piety 
 and the cultivation of the Missionary spirit amongst 
 the students. 
 
 In the year 1833, this Society published a small 
 tract of four pages entitled: ''Duty to the 
 Heathen, " and resolved to place a copy of it 
 in every family in Western Pennsylvania. The 
 tract was printed at Pittsburg, by D. & M. 
 Maclean, and was to be distributed by the volunta- 
 ry service of the members. It was a large under- 
 taking, but the student has large expectations, and, 
 with the hope of youth and the dependence on the 
 help of Providence, the undertaking was com- 
 menced. The time allotted to the work was the au- 
 tumn vacation, and it was anticipated that the va- 
 cation might be profitably spent in this way both as 
 regards doing good and promoting exercise and 
 health, and so fitting the agents for the work of 
 the coming winter session. 
 
 The country was districted amongst the members 
 of the society, and volunteers were called for in 
 each particular county or district. North-western 
 Pennsylvania was not well represented in the 
 
The Student. ^p^ 
 
 Society and the work was assigned to Mr. Dick- 
 son and some students who volunteered to assist 
 in that portion of the state. The work went 
 forward. Mr. Dickson assumed a larger portion of 
 the business than any other student, because he 
 was the only one from Erie county. In connection 
 with two fellow students he undertook the work of 
 distribution in nine townships in addition to the 
 borough of Erie. The plan was to place a copy of 
 the little messenger in each household in the dis- 
 trict, either in person or by proxy, and the result 
 was that it was done generally in person. The 
 plan was successfully carried out and at the begin- 
 ning of the next session a favorable report was 
 rendered. The following letter to his father will 
 throw light upon the matter : 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 Jefferson College, 1833. 
 "In my last I mentioned that I had taken North 
 East and Harbor Creek, in which to distribute tracts. 
 Since that time there has been a convention of the 
 students concerning the distribution, and all the 
 counties of western Pennsylvania taken, excepting 
 eleven townships of Erie county. As I am the 
 only student from that county, I thought it my 
 duty to stand for the section of country to which I 
 belong, so, in connection with Messrs. Hamill and 
 Osborn, have agreed to place a tract in every family 
 in the towns of Erie, Millcreek, Harbour-Creek, 
 North-East, Greenfield, Wayne, Beaverdam, Ve- 
 nango, Amity, Union, and Concord. The tracts 
 
^8 Memorial. 
 
 are furnished by the Brainard EvangeHcal Society. 
 
 The work is to be done in the month of October. 
 It will of course shorten my stay at home, for which 
 I shall be very sorry, but I must be engaged in 'my 
 Father's business.' " 
 
 Time passed and the student made good progress 
 in his studies. Good old Dr. Brown, the President, 
 took special interest in him, as he had been partic- 
 ularly committed to his care by his father. Profes- 
 sor William Smith would listen admiringly to his 
 rapid conjugation of the famous old verb : '^Tnptd' 
 and if he made a blunder in the translation of an 
 oration of Demosthenes, would, with a sly twinkle 
 of his eye, interrupt him by saying ; **Yes, or rather 
 this way": giving an entirely different meaning to 
 the sentence. In translating the sentence from the 
 same oration, "Ne Dia" when the student gave the 
 most obvious English meaning, he would say, with 
 imperturbable gravity, yet with the same curious 
 twinkle in his eye : 'Well, those old fellows would 
 swear a little sometimes, but you need not." 
 
 He excelled in the languages, yet was by no 
 means deficient in his knowledge of the mathemat- 
 ics. He was always punctual at his class recitations, 
 and in class was always ready for any call that was 
 made upon him. As a member of the Philo Lite- 
 rary Society, he took a prominent part in all its de- 
 bates, being specially ready in all extemporaneous 
 speaking, going forward in his harangue, from the 
 first sharp annunciation, "Mr. Archon," until the 
 close of his speech, as though the matter had all 
 
The Student. ^g 
 
 been carefully conned over in his mind beforehand. 
 Yet with all his wit and humour, and occasional 
 abandon, he was not in any danger of losing sight 
 of the great matter that was the object of his edu- 
 cation. This is obvious from his letters to the 
 father, in which more of the heart of the young 
 man is seen than in any outward appearances. 
 There was at the very bottom of his soul the feel- 
 ing of consecration to God. 
 
 During his first year at college he became anxious 
 that his older brother, George, should also become 
 a student. The delights of study and the pros- 
 pects of usefulness had awakened a strong desire 
 that others beside himself should share in them. 
 To this end a letter was written to his father, sug- 
 gesting the matter, and urging reasons why the 
 other brother should at once abandon the farm and 
 turn his attention to study. This letter that is still 
 extant abounds in arguments showing the impor- 
 tance of the idea, its reasonableness, and the way 
 in which it could be carried out. It also insisted 
 that the plan was entirely practicable, and could be 
 carried out with ease, inasmuch as they were both 
 economical in their habits, and would not draw 
 heavily on the home exchequer. The brother at 
 home rather objected at the first, but on reflection 
 concluded to abandon his home plans and join his 
 brother in his studies. 
 
 The final result was that the two brothers were 
 soon at Canonsburgh pursuing their studies togeth- 
 er, although George was two years behind his 
 
§0 Memorial, 
 
 younger brother. George M. Dickson was gradua- 
 ted in the year 1839, two years after his brother: 
 studied law at Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, and died 
 in 1841. 
 
 In the fall of 1834 the two brothers were greatly 
 gratified by a visit from their parents who remained 
 until after the commencement and then took them 
 with them to spend the vacation in visiting some of 
 the old scenes of their father's early life in the 
 county of Westmoreland ; thence to the home of 
 Rev. Robert Johnston, his early friend. After these 
 visits had been concluded the boys returned to their 
 studies, and commenced the labors of another year. 
 
 Whilst they were quietly pursuing their studies, a 
 great sorrow fell upon them from which they were 
 long recovering. Cyrus was at the post office and 
 saw in the list in the window his own name as the 
 recipient of a letter. A sharp tap on the window 
 and the letter was handed out to him. It bore the 
 old familiar home post mark, and was endorsed in 
 his father's hand writing. In his excitement the 
 letter was torn open on the porch of the post office, 
 and the first lines informed him of the death of his 
 mother. She had died suddenly of apoplexy. He 
 could read no farther. His heart beat convulsively 
 for a moment and then seemed to stop, as though 
 it would never resume its functions. There was 
 the one feeling — to get to his room and be alone 
 with his great sorrow. On his way he met his 
 friend, F. A. Muhlenberg, who noticed that some 
 great grief had fallen upon him and eagerly inquir- 
 
The Student. 5/ 
 
 ed what was the matter. He told him of his loss 
 and begged him to go and tell his brother George, 
 as he could not. When the announcement was 
 made to his brother he fainted, and, as the result of 
 the shock, was seriously ill for a number of days. 
 
 This was the first great sorrow in Mr. Dickson's 
 life, and its shadow fell upon him at times as long 
 as he lived. At such times he was unusually ten- 
 der, and the chastened thoughts that it inspired 
 gave tone to his feelings and conversation. His 
 mother's memory was always dear to him. His af- 
 fection for her was unusually strong and never 
 faded in his heart. He always felt that to her he 
 owed all that was valuable in his heart and in his 
 life, from her early influence and training. And 
 here amid the gathering shadows of the evening he 
 recalled everything of the past — the little cabin 
 where he was born — the first prayer his mother 
 had taught him — her earnest talks about the Sa- 
 viour — how he had often been awaked in the night 
 by a whispered voice and found her praying over 
 him as he lay in his little bed. He could even re- 
 cal something of the burden of those prayers — that 
 God would make her boy his own dear child — that, 
 even as she had dedicated him to His service in the 
 ministry, He would accept the offering and watch 
 over and bless him, and keep him until the time of re- 
 demption. And he felt that those prayers had been 
 answered in part, and he believed, now that hi^ 
 mother was in heaven, they would all be answered 
 and there came to him the thought too that he 
 
^2 Memorial. 
 
 should see his mother once more, even in the glo- 
 rified vision of holiness, and be with her forever. 
 
 It was long before the shadows were lifted from the 
 young student's heart, for with all the aids of faith 
 the thought was almost more than he could bear, that 
 he would see her face no more in this world. Home 
 had lost its attraction, and it seemed as though the 
 visits to the old home would no longer be desirable 
 now that the light had all faded out from it, and the 
 old attraction gone forever. But the winter wore 
 away ; time brought healing in its touch ; the duties 
 of the class kept his mind busy ; the thoughts of oth- 
 ers' burdens softened his feelings and the spring ap- 
 proached, reminding him of the care and attention 
 that were now wanted for the preservation of his own 
 health. This had been a source of anxiety to his 
 friends for some time, and at last the thought was 
 forced upon his own mind that he was breaking down 
 under the anxiety and study of the last session. 
 
 A few extracts from the letter of an old college 
 friend* will throw light on the manner and habits 
 of the young student. 
 
 **With great kindness and regard for my welfare 
 he gave me some cautions with regard to some wild 
 and irreligious students who were boarding in the 
 same house with myself .... I was one year in 
 advance of him in the regular studies of the course, 
 but he was far my superior in wisdom and mental 
 discipline .... I can still see him arrayed in his 
 swallow tailed coat, trudging down to the pump 
 
 * Prof. F. A. Muhlenberg. 
 
The Student. jj 
 
 which stood at the south-east corner of the Campus, 
 with his stone pitcher, to draw the cool water out 
 of the deep cistern, with no occasion for ice, and 
 without any tax for its use. It was the sweetest 
 water we ever drank. I might almost wish, as Da- 
 vid did, when thinking of the well of Bethlehem, 
 that I could go back again and drink with my old 
 friend out of the stone pitcher once more .... He 
 had a natural vein of pleasantry in him. This he 
 must have inherited from his father ; his mother, if 
 I mistake not, .... was of a more serious temper- 
 ament, though very kind-hearted and deeply relig- 
 ious. I can still hear his merry laugh, ringing in 
 my ears as he indulged in his playful pleasantry 
 with the friends who were gathered around his fire- 
 place in his room. Occasionally he would pass un- 
 der a cloud and become despondent .... When 
 he got into such moods he would repeat his favorite 
 sentiments from classic English poets of whom he 
 was a constant student, and among these Shaks- 
 peare and Beattie appeared to be his favorites' . . . 
 As I did not recite with him it is not in my power 
 to give any information as to his standing in his 
 class, .... but I do know that he was a great rea- 
 der of History, and polite Literature, and was one 
 of the best debaters, and most eloquent extempo- 
 raneous speakers we had at college, and that is very 
 much to his credit, for the older members of the 
 Society were eminently distinguished in these re- 
 spects. The most of them were men, not boys. 
 The saddest event that befel him while at College 
 
5^ Memorial. 
 
 was the death of his mother, to whom he was most 
 tenderly attached. His grief for her was permanent, 
 and exerted a marked influence on his character. 
 Her loss deepened the shadows that often rested on 
 his spirit ; but it was no doubt designed by God to 
 prepare him more fully for the great labors of his 
 subsequent life, when he became to such a remark- 
 able extent the consoler and comforter of others. 
 .... I believe he was constantly advancing in spir- 
 ituality and in fitness for the office to which he 
 seems to have regarded himself as set apart from 
 his childhood and which he so eminently adorned in 
 his subsequent career." 
 
 At this time, the spring of 1836, Mr. Dickson's 
 father was contemplating a trip to the far west, as it 
 was then called. It was to extend to the Mississ- 
 ippi River, and the thought was suggested to the 
 invalid student that such a trip would be of use to 
 him, and perhaps restore his broken health. The 
 matter was mentioned to Dr. Brown, who made in- 
 quiry first of the student himself and found that his 
 sleep was interrupted almost to insomnia, that he 
 was oppressed with languor, and, while diligent in 
 study as ever, was slowly breaking down from some 
 cause. On consulting with the other Professors it 
 was judged that the last session of the Junior class 
 might be intermitted without falling behind, and 
 then, if health would allow, go on with his class in 
 the fall as a regular senior. This conclusion was 
 made known to Mr. Dickson, the father, with the 
 advice that the young man should accompany him 
 on his western tour. 
 
The Student. ^§ 
 
 This was agreed upon and preparations were 
 made for the journey. It was to be made on horse- 
 back ; the distance was more than a thousand miles 
 and would require more than a month to complete 
 it. At the beginning of the April vacation the jour- 
 ney from Canonsburgh was commenced, a horse 
 being purchased for the purpose. Father and son 
 met at Girard, Erie county, Pennsylvania, and went 
 westward together. A leaf from the father's Note 
 Book informs us of the route taken and of the prog- 
 ress made. It will be interesting as showing the 
 manner of travel and the wildness of the country 
 at that time in contrast with the improved means 
 of travel and the greatness of the country at the 
 present. 
 
 Extract from Narrative of 
 William Dickson. 
 
 ''In April 1836 we left home for the western coun- 
 try ; traveled up Lake Erie to Perrysburg, up the 
 Maumee river to Fort Wayne, then down the Wabash 
 river, passing through the towns of Huntingdon 
 and Logansport, over the Tippecanoe battleground, 
 following the River to Lafayette, a beautiful town, 
 then to Shawnee Prairie, some distance below. 
 My son Cyrus had traveled with me from Erie 
 county, and at Huntingdon we fell in with William 
 C. Dickson, my cousin from Cherry Valley, Otsego 
 county. New York. At the Shawnee Prairie we 
 stopped a few days to survey some lands belonging 
 to a company in New York, then proceeded down 
 the river to Williamsport, crossed over into Illinois, 
 
^6 Memorial. 
 
 and came to Danville. We reached it on Saturday, 
 and remained over the Sabbath. On Monday, after 
 dinner, we started and traveled twenty miles to a 
 cabin far away on the prairie, and from there it was 
 twenty miles to the Kickapoo River, without house 
 or tree. At the old Indian town lived a Frenchman 
 who gave us our breakfast, and corn for our horses, 
 by paying him well. There was a little timber 
 on the bank of the river, then neither house nor 
 timber for twenty miles more. We put up at the 
 first house and fared well ; that was a few miles 
 from Bloomington, and in the neighborhood where 
 Luke Hardy settled and died — he moved from Har- 
 bour Creek. Next morning we started for Ottawa, 
 where we arrived that night, after travelling forty 
 miles. On leaving Ottawa we went up the Fox 
 river to John Green's mills ; he put us on an 
 Indian trail which he said would take us to Prince- 
 town. We traveled very hard, crossing the heads 
 of several streams running into the Illinois 
 river. One was called the Tomahawk ; in cross- 
 ing it my son's horse mired, threw him off and 
 nearly buried him in the mud. Every bad slough 
 we came to after that we thought of the Toma- 
 hawk. About sundown we reached a high ridge, 
 on which the town of Dover is now located, from 
 which we thought we could see Princetown ; we 
 pressed on, but it became dark. We lost the path 
 and wandered on the prairie until it was late at 
 night, when we saw a light and made our way to it. 
 A woman had been up attending to a sick child. 
 
The Student. 57 
 
 and had a light, which was fortunate for us, for we 
 were then three miles north of Princetown. The 
 next day we traveled forty-five miles ; saw but one 
 man ; his name was Thomas and he lived near the 
 Big Bureau river. He had been in the Black 
 Hawk war, and told us about Stillman's defeat. 
 That night we got to a cabin at the east end of 
 the Red Oak Grove. The woman said she had 
 once lived in North East, and that her father's 
 name was Evelith. I knew him well. The next 
 day we reached Rock River, and forded the slough 
 — it was high — to Vanroof's (Van Der Hoof's) 
 Island ; we ferried the main river and got to Wills' 
 before sundown. My object in coming to this place 
 was to purchase, if possible, the land on which the 
 Black Hawk town had formerly stood. . . . We 
 remained in the neighborhood a few days and then 
 went to Galena ; then to Chicago, where we met 
 Hiram Norcross. My son sold his horse to him 
 and took a steamboat to Erie." 
 
 The trip was safely made and in due time we 
 find the student at Canonsburgh once more, in all 
 the new dignity of a senior, and, what was far better, 
 with new health and vigor. The tour over the 
 prairies, as his father expressed it, "constantly read- 
 ing from the book of nature," did even more than 
 was expected. He was bronzed by his constant ex- 
 posure to the sun and wind, his muscles were hard- 
 ened by exercise, and his digestive powers renewed, 
 so that he was prepared to go on with the studies 
 of the year with vigor, and make up all that he had 
 
^8 Memoi'ial. 
 
 lost by his absence the preceding session. The 
 months passed, the spring vacation came, then the 
 summer arrived and the time of graduation was 
 seen in the distance. The Senior vacation came, 
 speeches were conned over that were to grace the 
 Commencement, and all was expectation in the 
 class. It was composed of thirty-nine young men, 
 drawn from very many States of the Union, and rep- 
 resenting many grades of talent, and designed for 
 many of the active walks of life. Of these thirty- 
 nine young men who stood together to receive 
 their diplomas from the venerable President more 
 than one third have already passed away from the 
 scenes of this world, and many others are still in 
 the front of the strife doing their work. 
 
 The auspicious day came at length. There 
 were the great congregation ; the blare of trump- 
 ets ; the speaking of the class ; the applause ; 
 the conferring of degrees ; the leave-taking ; then 
 the class of 1837 dispersed to meet no more upon 
 earth. They went out to act their brief part and 
 win or lose as best they might, and of the result 
 the ages will bear their solemn testimony. 
 
 The following brief extract from the class history, 
 delivered in 1867, by Rev. J. T. Smith, D. D., 
 sketches the student as he was known in the streets 
 of Canonsburgh and in the Halls of Jefferson Col- 
 lege ; 
 
 *'How distinctly the Cy. Dickson of that day 
 stands out before us ! His square, short form, and 
 round, ruddy face, and sandy locks, — his irrepressi- 
 
The Student. §g 
 
 ble vivacity and ready wit, and quickness at repar- 
 tee — his universal information and readiness to 
 adapt himself to circumstances and exigencies as 
 they arose — his power of impressing others into 
 his service, and above all his marvellous faculty of 
 discerning analogies where no mortal beside had 
 dreamed of their existence." 
 
 Home again for a short time and then work. 
 There was no time in which to indulge in dreams, 
 or wait for the rise of the tide to carry him for- 
 ward. A select school was taken in Girard, Penn- 
 sylvania, the duties of which commenced in Novem- 
 ber, 1837, one short month after his graduation. 
 Here he continued through the winter, and in the 
 month of April following accepted a situation in 
 the classical school of the Messrs. Hammill, in Law- 
 renceville. New Jersey. Here the teaching and the 
 study of Theology and Ecclesiastical History were 
 carried forward together. At the same time he at- 
 tended lectures at Princeton. This was a busy year. 
 In the month of September he returned to Erie 
 county and was received under the care of the 
 Presbytery, as a candidate for the Gospel ministry. 
 At the advice of friends in whom he had confidence 
 he had entered upon the study of his profession 
 very soon after taking his degree at Jefferson Col- 
 lege. Even at Girard, amid the perplexities of the 
 school, he was using his spare time and some that 
 was redeemed from the hours of relaxation in con- 
 ning over the books that pertained to his trial 
 studies before the Presbytery. And now that he 
 
6o Memorial. 
 
 was approaching the close of his probation, and the 
 great matter of preaching was beginning to fill his 
 mind, these studies were pursued with greater dili- 
 gence than ever. In addition to this, the trial ex- 
 ercises assigned him by Presbytery occupied his 
 mind and pressed upon his time. 
 
 The following letter to his father is the last that 
 is before us during his student life : 
 
 Lawrenceville, N. J., May 23, 1838. 
 : " By the date you will perceive that I have 
 
 left my native state and am now in a land of stran- 
 gers. 
 
 I left North-East April i6th, and came by way 
 of Buffalo, Albany, and New York. I am an assist- 
 ant teacher in the Lawrenceville High School. Mr. 
 S. M. Hammill and his brother are the Principals. 
 I teach Latin, Greek and Mathematics. 
 
 I am studying Hebrew and Church History." 
 
 September, 1838, 
 : ''I teach six hours each day and study eight." 
 
III. THE COMMISSION. 
 
 ^^ Blessings may appear under the shape of paijis, 
 losses and disappointinents, but let Jiim have patience, 
 and he will see them in their proper Jignre.'' 
 
 * Addison. 
 
 '* Whereof I was made a minister according to the 
 gift of the grace of God given iinto me by the effect- 
 ual working of his power ^ 
 
 Eph. III. 7. 
 
III. THE COMMISSION. 
 
 The chrysalis is an important part of the life ex- 
 perience of the butterfly. The quiet preparation 
 while yet hidden away from the active business 
 world is a fitting stage of insect progress. Yet the 
 time comes when the shell is burst asunder, and 
 the active, real business and enjoyment of life com- 
 mences. The mature butterfly is abroad in its beau- 
 ty and the world is before it, and is more beautiful 
 for its presence. And to our student the time had 
 arrived when he must leave his chrysalis condition, 
 and take part in the active scenes of life. The 
 waiting and the hope were to give place to active 
 duty and the responsible work of an evangelist. 
 
 His student life was not to terminate. That was 
 to go forward with more diligence than ever. It 
 was to continue through all his life on earth ; it was 
 to be carried forward in heaven, seated at the feet 
 of the Great Teacher, where lessons of wisdom and 
 love and beauty will be full of attraction throughout 
 all eternity. 
 
 But the time of probation was drawing to a close. 
 The Home, the Academy, the College, the Theolo- 
 gical training had done their work, as far as simple 
 preparation was concerned, and the student was to 
 be commissioned to preach the Gospel, and to ''feed 
 the Church of God, which he hath purchased with 
 
64 Memorial. 
 
 His own blood." Was it strange then that he was 
 full of excitement with the thought ? Was it strange 
 that the young man, not yet twenty three years of 
 age, should almost shrink from undertaking the work 
 that seemed so full of grave responsibilities ? Here 
 had been the labor and the waiting of the years of 
 his early youth — what would be the result ? The 
 memories of the past crowded upon him ; the moth- 
 er's talks by the evening fireside ; the half articula- 
 ted prayers by the side of his bed when yet but a 
 child ; the father's anxieties ; his own early vows of 
 consecration and resolutions for the service of God 
 and the welfare of the souls of men clustered around 
 him, and thronged his memory. What would be the 
 result ? Here was his health somewhat shattered 
 by close application to study ; he had had no expe- 
 rience in the way of public speaking ; he knew not 
 that he could so commend himself to the people as 
 to gain their ear successfully, or impress them favor- 
 ably. Here was the discouraging view of the case. 
 But there was another side to the situation. The 
 cloud that is so dark and murky on our side of the 
 view, may be all beautiful and golden from the sun 
 side, and by the eye of faith we may always see 
 the sun-lighted side. And to the young man with 
 all these sensitive feelings and weighty responsibil- 
 ities pressing upon him, there was the sunward view 
 of what else had been but a dark and mysterious 
 cloud. He had these aids to faith : he had been 
 wonderfully prospered in his early preparation. He 
 had overcome difficulties that seemed like moun- 
 
The Co7mniss2on, 6^ 
 
 tains in his way, and had graduated with honor at an 
 age much younger than was then common with stu- 
 dents. The way had been opened up for teaching 
 and farther study. God had gone before him and 
 had been his guide thus far, and he felt that for the 
 days to come he could rely upon His aid, and he 
 looked forward with a cheerful heart. 
 
 And so the trials for licensure commenced. The 
 young man sought the old Erie Presbytery, in whose 
 bounds he had been born and reared, and the 
 thoughts of whose ministers and churches were con- 
 secrated in his mind by the sweetest and most en- 
 during memories. On the fifteenth day of October, 
 1838, he was taken under the care of the Presbytery 
 of Erie, as a candidate for the Gospel ministry. He 
 was at that time a member of the church at Law- 
 renceville. New Jersey, where he was engaged in 
 teaching. This fact shows the conscientious feeling 
 of the man, in transferring his church membership 
 from place to place wherever he sojourned, even for 
 a time. He had most probably transferred his 
 membership from North East, where his father was 
 an elder, to the college church at Canonsburgh, un- 
 der the pastoral care of Dr. Brown, and thence to 
 Lawrenceville, that he might always feel that the 
 responsibilities of actual church membership were 
 upon him. Like Abraham of the olden time wher- 
 ever he pitched his tent there he builded his altar 
 so that he might always be ready for the sacrifice. 
 
 At the same meeting of Presbytery, that was held 
 at Mercer, Pennsylvania, he was examined in all the 
 
66 Memorial. 
 
 studies of his college course, also read a Latin ex- 
 egesis on the theme: "An Dei Providentia omnia 
 respicit?"; also a critical exercise on the twenty 
 third Psalm, and a Popular Lecture on The Epistle 
 to the Romans, third chapter, and from the twentieth 
 to the twenty sixth verses inclusive. These were 
 all sustained as parts of trials for licensure. 
 
 Back to his teaching once more, waiting until the 
 appointed time, studying, looking out upon the field 
 and wondering to what part of the great world the 
 Lord would assign him, the young man passed the 
 twelve months of the probation that yet remained. 
 The time did not seem long, for there were the great 
 volumes of Theology to be read, Dick, and Hill, and 
 Ridgeley, with many a glance into the classic pages 
 of old Turretine. There was also the wonderful 
 History of the Church of God as recorded by Eu- 
 sebius and Milner and Mosheim, to be read and 
 thought and prayed over, in order to his thorough 
 furnishing for the work. 
 
 In the meantime there was the work in the Sab- 
 bath school, the study of the child mind, in which 
 he afterwards became such an adept in knowledge ; 
 the going out into the country to assist in prayer 
 meetings ; the talks to the people about Jesus, the 
 Saviour of sinners ; the exhortation of the people 
 to the new and desirable life ; all these things 
 served to deepen his own convictions of duty and 
 to fit him for the coming work. 
 
 And there was this slight ground of discourage- 
 ment as the time drew near for his licensure : he 
 
The Commission. 6j 
 
 had spent nearly all his spare time during the win- 
 ter in the preparation of his sermon as the remain- 
 ing portion of trials for licensure, before the Presby- 
 tery. Yet it did not seem to be very much of a ser- 
 mon, and the thought came into his mind as to how 
 he could possibly prepare two sermons each week 
 after he should have entered upon the work. But 
 the spirit of hopefulness, that was so large an ele- 
 ment in his nature, took the place of despondency, 
 and he went on with his studies hoping that time 
 and faith and energy would overcome all these 
 difficulties. And the trial sermon was conned over, 
 and the young homilist wondering what the Fathers 
 and Brethren of the Presbytery would think of it. 
 
 The time of the trial came at last. The Presby- 
 tery met on the fourteenth day of October, 1839, in 
 the Neshannock church, in Mercer county, Penn- 
 sylvania. All that day the candidate for holy or- 
 ders sat waiting, and listening to the details of 
 business connected with the welfare of the churches. 
 But the sermon could wait. The ministers and el- 
 ders were full of other matters. It was decided to 
 hear the sermon in the evening ; the text assigned 
 was the seventeenth chapter of the Acts of the 
 Apostles and thirtieth verse : "What must I do to 
 be saved V 
 
 Ludicrous things will happen under circumstances 
 of solemnity and responsibility. The Presbytery 
 had met in a country church, where there were no 
 facilities of light for evening meetings, and it had 
 been arranged to have the evening service at the 
 
68 Memorial. 
 
 house of one of the elders of the church, William 
 Mc Millan, son of Dr. Mc Millan of Chartiers. At 
 this evening meeting Mr. Dickson was to preach 
 his trial sermon for licensure and his friend, Mr. 
 Reynolds, his sermon preparatory to ordination. 
 The young men were to read their discourses. The 
 table was a simple, slender, three-legged affair, on 
 which was placed the old family Bible, containing 
 the record of the births and deaths of the family 
 for two or three generations, and by its side a single 
 tallow candle, moulded by the deft hands of the 
 good mother of the household, for the meeting was 
 arranged at "early candle lighting," as the phrase 
 then went. The elder was notified that something 
 a little higher than this table would be necessary to 
 accommodate the young men. The half bushel was 
 brought in from the barn, and the table placed on 
 the top of this, and all was in readiness. 
 
 As the good elder passed where the young Theo- 
 logians sat, trembling somewhat in the prospect of 
 the coming trials, he whispered to them so as to 
 be audible to those sitting near : "■ Now boys, I 
 do not want any unnecessary clawing around that 
 table, for if there is, the whole rig will go tumbling 
 head over heels." The young men made a mental 
 note of the condition of the extemporized pulpit, 
 and were on their guard ; but the ludicrousness of 
 the arrangement coupled with the elder's remark 
 would force themselves upon them during the pro- 
 gress of the discourses. 
 
 On the following day Mr. Dickson was examined 
 
The Commission. 6g 
 
 in Theology, Ecclesiastical History, Church Gov- 
 ernment, and the Sacraments. These examinations 
 and parts of trials having been all sustained he was 
 licensed to preach the Gospel of Christ, in due 
 form, on the fifteenth day of October, 1839. 
 
 The work of preaching now commenced. The 
 first Sabbath was given to the pulpit of his old 
 friend and father's friend, Rev. Johnston Eaton of 
 the Fairview church, who was associated with his 
 earliest recollections of Gospel preaching, and whom 
 he had often tried to imitate in the days of his boy 
 preaching in the plays of the school. 
 
 Then came the question : Whither does the Lord 
 call .'* In what part of the field am I to glean, 
 and bring in the sheaves .-* But to the earnest, in- 
 quiring heart, seeking work from the Lord, the an- 
 swer is not long delayed. And so it proved in this 
 case. The door was opened ; the way was made 
 plain, and the work was well received and bounti- 
 fully rewarded. 
 
IV. PASTORAL LIFE IN FRANKLIN. 
 
 ^^ Blessed is he who has foinid his work; let him 
 ask no other blessedness. He has a woi^k, a life-pur- 
 pose ; he has found it and will follozv it." 
 
 Carlyle. 
 
 ^'Iji the mornijig sow thy seed, and in the evening 
 withhold not thy hand ; for thou know est not whether 
 shall prosper, either this or that, or ivhetJier they shall 
 both be alike good," 
 
 EccL. XII. 6. 
 
IV. PASTORAL LIFE IN FRANKLIN. 
 
 The work had now commenced. A Sabbath at 
 the old home church at North-East ; looking about 
 the country where he had passed his first days and 
 had received his first impressions of life ; talking 
 with his old neighbors ; a visit to the Lake to listen 
 to the dash of its waves and look out on its bound- 
 less prospect, and the solemn activities of the min- 
 isterial life must commence. The world was all 
 before him, but he waited for the particular direc- 
 tion and voice of Providence. There were some 
 strong attractions that drew him westward ; his fath- 
 er had his home there, and to him and other members 
 of the family he was very strongly attached. There 
 were earnest calls to labor in heathen lands, and the 
 feeling was to go just where God should open the 
 way. 
 
 Just at this time he was sent by the Presbytery 
 as a supply to the church of Franklin, in Venango 
 county, Pennsylvania, that was to be the scene of 
 his first pastoral labor. With no definite idea of 
 settlement, but simply following the pillar of cloud 
 that the eye of faith discovered in the distance, the 
 young man accepted the invitation and turned his 
 face toward Franklin. The distance was more than 
 an hundred miles and the journey must be made on 
 
7^ Memorial. 
 
 horseback. It was in the month of December and 
 the air was crisp, with traces of snow in the clouds, 
 but this was the beginning of the work, and he set 
 forward with courage and resolution. The first 
 night was spent with his friend, Mr. Reynolds of 
 Meadville, where long talks were had about the old 
 college days, and the friends of the past ; with occa- 
 sional reference to the days to come, so full of hope 
 and expectation. 
 
 On the next afternoon he started on his way to 
 Franklin. The snow had fallen during the night ; 
 the road was rough and progress slow. The mus- 
 cles of the young man had not yet become harden- 
 ed by exercise, as they became after the years of 
 missionary life that followed, and night began to 
 fall before he had reached his destination. He 
 stopped with a good Presbyterian elder who lived 
 within six miles of Franklin, and in the morning 
 went with his host who was going to town with a 
 load of pork. The pork is loaded on a sleigh. The 
 young minister ties his horse to the back of the 
 sleigh and takes his seat with the driver and makes 
 his advent to the scene of his future labors perched 
 upon a load of dressed pigs. 
 
 But he finds a warm reception and a welcome 
 home with the old elder, who was the first to re- 
 ceive him and who was his friend and patron from 
 that day to the day of his death. He looked 
 around ; the prospect was not flattering. The pub- 
 lic improvements were not good ; the town evident- 
 ly was not growing ; the church could not enlarge 
 
Pastoral Life m Franklin. 75 
 
 very much with this population ; the way did not 
 point to success. There might be the sowing but 
 what hope was there for the harvest ? 
 
 These were questions that ran through the mind of 
 the young man as he looked out on the park that 
 fronted Mr. Bowman's house, and that were deepen- 
 ed as he walked up Liberty Street and along Thir- 
 teenth, as it is now called, with his friend and host. 
 But as was his custom he did not allow himself to 
 be troubled with the appearance of things, but left 
 all to be developed by a wiser head and a stronger 
 hand than his own. And the face was cheerful 
 that was introduced to Mr. Dodd, the other elder, 
 as he called in the evening and the voice was un- 
 ruffled by a tremor, as the situation was discussed. 
 
 Franklin was at that time a really small town, al- 
 though a county seat. It was an old town, found- 
 ed on the sites of four successive military works. 
 The French had builded Fort Machault in 1753 ; 
 the English had followed this by building Fort Ve- 
 nango in 1760; in 1787 the United States had 
 builded Fort Franklin, followed by the Garrison in 
 1796. The town had been laid out in 1795, but its 
 progress had been slow. The census returns 
 in the following year, 1840, showed a population 
 of only five hundred and ninety-five. Everything 
 was quiet and the prospect poor for building up a 
 church. But God's people were here and they had 
 been praying and there was hope. The church had 
 been organized in 18 17, but had had no pastor until 
 1826, when Rev. Thomas Anderson took charge, 
 
'j6 Me^norial. 
 
 continuing the pastorate until 1837. It had now 
 been vacant two years. The church edifice was an 
 old fashioned affair, with nothing of architectural 
 display, within or without, to recommend it. The 
 eye was offended by the bareness of its outlines 
 and the ear pained by its unfortunate accoustic 
 properties, The auditorium had galleries running 
 around three sides, the one opposite the pulpit be- 
 ing used by the choir. The pulpit itself was small 
 but lofty and afterwards draped with a liberal sup- 
 ply of red moreen. 
 
 There were no public improvements about the 
 place. For about a month, spring and autumn, 
 steamboats plied between the town and Pittsburgh, 
 while the water in the Allegheny was at its height, 
 affording the means of travel. At other times the 
 old lumbering coach was the only public convey- 
 ance, bringing the mail tri-weekly, and affording 
 the means of communication with the outside 
 world. Untold wealth was slumbering underneath 
 the hills that kept guard around, but it was so far 
 a sealed book, and the time was not yet. 
 
 The church of Franklin was too weak to support 
 a pastor the whole of his time, and the arrange- 
 ment had been hitherto, to unite with Sugar Creek, 
 a church in the country, about seven miles distant. 
 This had been the case under Mr. Anderson's pas- 
 torate. It was proposed to continue it under any 
 new pastor who should be called. The first Sab- 
 bath was spent in town, and the following at Sugar 
 Creek. The minister was invited to spend other 
 
Pastoral Life in Frankli?t. 77 
 
 Sabbaths. He continued to preach for several suc- 
 cessive Sabbaths, with no well formed notions in 
 his own mind as to final results, until a talk was 
 had among the people of making out a call for his 
 settlement. The matter was mentioned to the 
 minister, who had been debating the question in 
 his own mind, until he felt half inclined to encour- 
 age them in their hopes. 
 
 There were other reasons that perhaps influenced 
 his feelings and helped him in making up his mind 
 to settle. Whilst visiting in Girard, Pennsylvania, 
 he had formed an attachment that was to continue 
 for life : and, yielding to the solicitations of the 
 people to become their pastor, he was united in 
 marriage to Miss Delia Eliza Mc Connell, daughter 
 of- Thomas and Margaret Mc Connell, on the twen- 
 tieth day of January, 1840. The young couple 
 found a home for a time in the family of Mr. Bow- 
 man, to whom they were ever most tenderly attach- 
 ed. And when eventually they builded a home for 
 themselves, it was very near that of their early pa- 
 trons, and they were indebted to them for advice 
 and counsel in many an emergency. 
 
 On the twenty-first day of April, 1840, at a regu- 
 lar meeting of the Presbytery of Erie, calls were 
 presented for the pastoral labors of Mr. Dickson 
 from the congregations of Franklin and Sugar 
 Creek, dividing his time between them equally. 
 These calls were placed in his hand, and being ac- 
 cepted by him, arrangements were made for his or- 
 dination and installation. The text assigned Mr. 
 
y8 Memo7daL 
 
 Dickson as trial for ordination was from the Gospel 
 by John, first chapter and twenty-ninth verse : "Be- 
 hold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin 
 of the world." 
 
 In accordance with this arrangement, Presbytery 
 met at Franklin on the twenty-third day of June 
 1840, when the trial sermon was preached. On 
 the following day the solemn services of ordination 
 and installation took place, in the presence of the 
 congregation. Rev. Samuel Tait of Mercer presid- 
 ed, proposed the constitutional questions and offer- 
 ed the ordaining prayer ; Rev. Johnston Eaton, of 
 Fairview, preached the sermon ; Rev. Absalom 
 M'Cready of Neshannock delivered the charge to 
 the pastor, and Rev. James G. Wilson of Green- 
 ville delivered the charge to the people. And as 
 the people came forward at the tlose of the services 
 to bid the young pastor welcome, and looked into 
 his fresh, young face, and saw the warmth of feel- 
 ing in, his deep blue eye, and felt the warm grasp 
 of his hand, they knew that there was a warm heart 
 behind the blue eye and the fervent grip of the 
 hand. And to the pastor there was the same as- 
 surance as he looked into the eyes of the people. 
 He knew that he was welcome, and that they had 
 taken him home to their hearts, and would stand by 
 him in the work that he had that day undertaken. 
 
 And now the work commenced in earnest. The 
 scattered sheep must be gathered up in town, and 
 looked after every day. Every alternate Sabbath 
 must be given to Sugar Creek. Saturday and Mon- 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. yg 
 
 day connected with that day must be devoted to hunt- 
 ing up the people in the country, spending the in- 
 tervening nights in their dwellings and sharing their 
 generous hospitality. In this way the older members 
 of the congregation were strengthened and comfort- 
 ed and many of those counted as without the fold 
 induced to come in and hear the word, and become 
 partakers of its blessings. The frankness and in- 
 nate kindness of the man had a decided influence 
 in disarming the prejudices of many who had pre- 
 viously neglected the means of grace. He would 
 go to them as they worked in the fields, as they 
 sat by the door in the warm summer evenings and 
 talk with them so freely and so naturally that they 
 saw that the religion of the man was not assumed 
 for a purpose, and they were attracted to the 
 preacher and then to his church, and were gradual- 
 ly brought within the sphere of good influences. 
 
 In town his influence soon began to be felt. 
 With the help of the two elders who resided in 
 town he soon became acquainted with all the 
 members of the church, and the adherents of the 
 congregation. Then he looked up another class, 
 those who had no particular affinities for any church. 
 These he looked after and invited to come to his 
 church, and send their children to the Sabbath 
 School. In this way the children were secured and 
 then the parents gradually began to go to the church 
 until the minister's influence was felt in many new 
 directions. Many of these people eventually became 
 members of the church, and were of value to it. 
 
8o Memorial. 
 
 After settling down to work, and taking the 
 bearings of the congregation a roll was formed of 
 the members of the church. The new Pastor 
 could discover neither minutes of the session, nor 
 roll. It was as though the work was beginning 
 from a new point ; or as he described it : " com- 
 mencing the church de novo." As far as the past 
 was concerned, everything was a blank save the 
 church edifice and the elders, and the few faithful 
 believers who had kept the prayer meeting alive, 
 and interested themselves in the Sabbath School. 
 
 The new roll consisted of forty one members 
 with three ruling elders, one of whom lived in the 
 country. The first couple married were Samuel F. 
 Dale and Eliza M'Clelland ; The first child baptized 
 was William John Lamberton. The first meeting 
 of the session was held on the thirtieth of August, 
 1840, and the first member received into the church 
 was Charles L. Cochran. 
 
 But the work required strong faith, and none but 
 a brave heart, full of faith in the promises of God, 
 could have labored on as this heroic young man did 
 in the midst of such great discouragements. The 
 town had already been in existence nearly half a cen- 
 tury and was still struggling. The country around 
 was poor and few persons coming in to settle. Low 
 as the salary was there was not even the promise or 
 hope of cash payment. Trade was the usual me- 
 dium of settlenjent, and there was not much in the 
 future to inspire hope that matters would ever be 
 very much better. And all this time the minister 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. 8i 
 
 felt within him the possibilities of a higher position 
 in life and a wider sphere of usefulness. Still 
 just then the work was in Franklin and he was con- 
 tent to await God's time, and the clear sound of 
 the voice that had called him thither, before becom- 
 ing discontented with his work and his wages. 
 And so, trusting to the care of Him who gives his 
 people bread, and feeds even the little birds, he 
 brought his wife from the shore of Lake Erie, set 
 up his Lares, unpacked his scanty library, and gird- 
 ed himself for the work. 
 
 He soon gathered around him a people who ad- 
 mired his talents, appreciated his fluency of speech, 
 and were attracted by his genial and social disposi- 
 tion. There were at that time a number of young 
 professional men in the place, many of whom after- 
 wards rose to places of great eminence in their 
 country's history, who co-operated with him in his 
 work, encouraged him in his studies, and were al- 
 ways ready to speak a good word for him amongst 
 the fellow citizens and strangers. 
 
 And the older members of the church, who had 
 borne the heat and burden of the day were strength- 
 ened and built up by his sound, judicious exposi- 
 tions of the word, and felt that they were fed with 
 the finest of the wheat. 
 
 In all his ministrations there was the evidence of 
 culture and growth ; the things that were old seem- 
 ed to wear a new and attractive garb ; and things 
 that were new were made to illustrate and confirm 
 the old. The influence of the man and the preach- 
 
82 Memorial. 
 
 er soon began to be felt, and a new direction was 
 given to everything connected with the church and 
 congregation. The old Sewing Society took on 
 new vigor, and led in the direction of the mission- 
 ary work ; the contributions of the church for be- 
 nevolent work, was no longer a dead form. Under 
 the warm and intelligent setting forth of the wants 
 of the great world that is beyond and the smaller 
 world that is within the bounds of our own terri- 
 tory, these collections became larger and accompan- 
 ied by the sympathies and the prayers of the wor- 
 shippers. 
 
 Time moved on ; changes came ; the old years 
 passed away ; the new ones dawned ; the two an- 
 gels were busy ; the death angel came and there 
 was weeping and mourning in the households, as 
 he bore away his spoil ; the birth angel came, and 
 there was joy in the homes of those whose doors 
 he entered as the low wail of the baby was heard, 
 and a new well-spring of joy opened up in the 
 household, and a new citizen introduced to the 
 world. The latter angel came to the minister's 
 house again and again, until in time three goodly 
 daughters were seen in the home and made their 
 presence felt in new sources of joy and anxiety to 
 the hearts of the parents. These daughters sur- 
 vive their father, but their memories do not reach 
 back to the days spent in the Franklin home. 
 Margaret Christiana was born in the old Bowman 
 mansion on the west side of the Park, and Eva 
 Reynolds and Fanny Delia in the brick house on 
 
Pastoral Life in Fra^tklin. 8j 
 
 the eastern side of the Park. The former house 
 has been removed and its memory only remains ; 
 the latter is still standing, and serves as a monu- 
 ment of many years of pleasant labor, and domes- 
 tic enjoyment of the departed, and to those of the 
 family who remain, of quiet years of patient 
 waiting, and of the beginning of a life that has 
 had its joys and its sorrows, its sunshine and its 
 shadows. 
 
 And the families of his parishioners grew up 
 around him, and the minister felt himself drawn to 
 them perhaps more tenderly because of the gentle 
 ones whom he saw daily in his own home. They 
 were the hope and the joy of his heart, even as 
 were the little ones whose faces he saw daily around 
 his own cheerful table. And those children of his 
 parishioners he never forgot, even after they grew 
 up and took their places in society, and in the active 
 duties of life. 
 
 The church grew slowly during the first years of 
 Mr. Dickson's pastorate in the quiet little town. 
 During his entire work, however, there was the grad- 
 ual, healthy increase that makes the pastor's heart 
 glad. Sometimes the young came to him inquiring 
 the way of salvation. Sometimes the strong man 
 or woman came to confess Christ and take up the 
 duties of the Christian life ; sometimes the aged at 
 the eleventh hour came acknowledging the Redeem- 
 er of sinners and testifying to his love and faithful- 
 ness. And the records of the church show that, 
 with an occasional season of revival, the additions 
 
84 Memorial. 
 
 were regular and constant, showing a healthy con- 
 dition of the church, an encouraging feeling in the 
 congregation, and testifying to the impression that 
 was making in the small church of Franklin. In 
 Sugar Creek, where the other half of his labor was 
 performed the influence was equally good. The 
 scattered members of the flock were gathered in. 
 The farmers welcomed their pastor to their firesides. 
 He talked to them about their farms and their hus- 
 bandry as one who had been a tiller of the soil him- 
 self, surprising them by his knowledge of all the 
 details of their work. And the transition was easy 
 and natural to the husbandry that is spiritual, and 
 the work that pertains to all the life of the soul, when 
 he would lead their thoughts to higher themes and 
 more spiritual interests. 
 
 There are very few remains of recorded experi- 
 ence connected with the Franklin Pastorate. There 
 are the church rolls of Communicants and Baptisms, 
 with the Records of the Session. But these tell us 
 of the contented life in the midst of what must have 
 been self-denying labors, and multiplying cares ; 
 and what we know was a beautiful discipline in the 
 way of ripening spirituality and strengthening faith 
 as he worked, and that he always tried to keep near 
 to God. 
 
 We find brief extracts from two letters to his 
 father, that show what his state of mind was during 
 two years that were outwardly full of the wildest ex- 
 citement. The first is but a fragment : 
 
Pastoral Life in Frayiklin. 8s 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 Franklin, December 1840. 
 "God has blessed me abundantly. My people 
 always listen and often weep. God, I trust, will 
 keep me humble." 
 
 "December 20, 1841. 
 It is ten years to-day since I began to go to school 
 to Joseph M. Hays in Harbour Creek. Since then 
 all my birth-days have been spent amongst strang- 
 ers." 
 
 Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 The minister who occupies the old Sugar Creek 
 field at the present time writes this concerning the 
 old people and their memories of more then the 
 third of a century ago : 
 
 "The general impression I gather of his work 
 here is : i. That the people considered him a supe- 
 rior preacher, placing him, as such, above any one 
 they have ever heard. 2. As to social qualities. In 
 going amongst the people in the country he would 
 make himself perfectly at home, wherever he stopped 
 for a night, or came to call, and a great many still 
 say : "He made his home at oiir place when he came 
 out to preach." 3. His familiarity was not over- 
 done. I infer this from the fact that he was the 
 means of great ingathering to the church, reaching 
 many who were before entirely of the world's people. 
 In fact many of the older people who were in the 
 field when I came here have told me that they united 
 with the church in Mr. Dickson's time. 
 
86 Memorial. 
 
 As a slight indication of his popularity at the 
 time, I find quite a number of men from the age of 
 thirty to forty years now bear his name." 
 
 A feature of the time in which this pastorate was 
 carried on, was the missionary work that was called 
 for outside of the regular pastoral charge. There 
 were very many vacant churches in the Presbytery. 
 They were small, weak, and depended almost wholly 
 on supplies. At every meeting of the Presbytery 
 "the Committee on supplies" reported a long list of 
 these vacancies, with appointments for the Pastors 
 to furnish them with a day's preaching. Sometimes 
 these vacancies were a great distance from the per- 
 son appointed to supply them. But it mattered not 
 what the time of year, or the condition of the roads, 
 the work was expected to be done. 
 
 Mr. Dickson, being a young, vigorous man was 
 frequently in demand. Perhaps he was appointed 
 to go to Mount Pleasant, or Concord, or Tidioute, 
 or Brokenstraw. If the latter, the distance was 
 nearly fifty miles. He must saddle his horse, put 
 over the saddle the saddle-bags, and set out on the 
 trip up the Allegheny. Seven miles from home he 
 would encounter the waters of Oil creek. Perhaps 
 they were at a high stage and there being no bridge, 
 the fording was neither pleasant nor safe. Cross- 
 ing to the other side the road led up a long, steep 
 hill, and along a most lonesome road, where not a 
 single house would be passed for twelve miles ; then 
 through a sparsely settled region to the Neill place 
 and then Tidioute, then on along the margin of the 
 
Pasto7'al Life in Franklin. 8y 
 
 Allegheny river until the place of preaching was 
 reached. After the labors of the Sabbath were 
 over then the same journey was to be repeated. 
 
 Then it was customary to have assistance at the 
 celebration of the Lord's Supper. He would ex- 
 change with brethren, and go away to Neshannock, 
 to Mercer, to Fairview, to Warren, to Meadville, to 
 Georgetown, and all this brought the labor and 
 fatigue of travel, generally on horseback. Some- 
 times it was in the summer ; sometimes in the win- 
 ter, through the cold, and often over roads that were 
 rough, broken, and sometimes dangerous. In this 
 way the young man learned to endure hardness as 
 a good soldier of Jesus Christ. 
 
 An extract from the Class History by Dr. J. T. 
 Smith gives the following features of the man and 
 the preacher at this time. 
 
 "His whole bearing was in marked contrast with 
 that of the older generation of ministers. Genial 
 vivacious, many-sided, of quick, warm sympathies, 
 he threw himself among the people and made him- 
 self one with them. Fluent, off-hand, eloquent 
 in the pulpit, bringing the gospel home to 'men's 
 business and bosoms,' he soon became popular and 
 admired, not only in his own churches but through- 
 out the entire Presbytery, and his praise is in all 
 its churches to this day. Little did he think that 
 the desert and the solitary place would so soon re- 
 joice, and the little companies to whom he brake 
 the bread of life in school houses and rude sanctu- 
 aries would so soon be multiplied into those crowd- 
 
88 Memorial. 
 
 ed congregations which throng their spacious 
 houses of worship to-day." 
 
 During his ministry at Sugar Creek he was care- 
 ful to visit not only the families of his congregation 
 strictly speaking, but those that did not attend any 
 church, and by his cordial, free conversation often 
 won them to his heart and to his church. On one 
 occasion, whilst at the house of one of his members, 
 a great, strong man, addicted to drinking, who was 
 working for the family came in to dinner. Mr. 
 Dickson at once began a conversation with him. 
 He asked him how old he was ; how much he 
 weighed ; if so strong a man as he ever became 
 tired ; how many children he had ; and finally in- 
 vited him to come to meeting the next day. The 
 questions had drawn the heart of the man to the 
 minister and as he told him how glad he would be 
 to see him at meeting, and that he would look for 
 him the next day, he saw that an impression had 
 been made. As the man was leaving the house he 
 shook him warmly by the hand, with the kind, 
 laughing words : *'Now do not forget." 
 
 The next day the man was at the meeting with 
 his neighbors, and continued to attend regularly, 
 though he still continued his habit of drinking to 
 excess at times. Not long after this, the minister 
 and an elder called at his house, to make a pastoral 
 visit. The man was absent, having gone to Frank- 
 lin, but the wife invited them to remain for tea. 
 They consented, hoping to see the father on his 
 return. It was dark by the time tea was ready. 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. 8g 
 
 and the man had not returned. After tea family- 
 worship was proposed ; the chapter was read, and, 
 just as they kneeled down, the elder heard the un- 
 steady steps of the man coming up on the porch. 
 The poor man took in the situation in an instant, 
 and stood with uncovered head and listened. Mr. 
 Dickson prayed earnestly for the family ; for the 
 parents and the dear children ; that they might all 
 be led to the Saviour and find peace in Him, and at 
 last a home in heaven. 
 
 After the prayer was concluded the man came in 
 and apologized for his condition, saying that he was 
 ashamed of himself, and asked for prayers for him- 
 self that he might become a better man, and be 
 kept from the way of evil. After much kind ad- 
 vice and encouraging conversation, and farther 
 prayer, the visit was concluded, and the party went 
 out into the darkness, but leaving light behind 
 them in that household such as it had never known 
 before. About two months after this visit both 
 parents were received into the Church, and after- 
 wards several of the children. The demon of 
 strong drink was banished and there was peace and 
 prosperity in the household. The parents have 
 both passed away and sleep in the quiet church 
 yard, but their influence remains. And the value 
 of .pastoral work, by a faithful, earnest minister is 
 strongly demonstrated. 
 
 In all these ways : '*By pureness, by knowledge, 
 by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned" did this 
 young man, armed with the all-conquering power of 
 
go Memorial, 
 
 the Gospel, strive to bring men to the knowledge 
 of the truth, and the love of God. And the result 
 was, that that little flock, struggling for existence, 
 was strengthened and built up. Persons that 
 seemed hopelessly given to the ways of sin were 
 brought to trust in Christ, and the word of the 
 Lord was greatly magnified. And the memory of the 
 good work wrought there forty years ago remains 
 until this day, as the fathers and mothers in Israel 
 speak of their early minister, and of his good works. 
 There are people still lingering about Sugar 
 Creek, with ''snow clinging to their mountain tops," 
 As Mr. Dickson once expressed it, who bear in 
 their inmost hearts a feeling of reverence and affec- 
 tion for their old pastor that many waters cannot 
 quench. He is associated in their memories with all 
 that is dear and valuable in their past and all that is 
 precious in their future. A few years ago, on a visit 
 to his early home in Franklin, one of these old Sugar 
 Creek people came in to see him. His head was 
 white with the snows of nearly seventy winters. 
 They talked of the past ; of the old days in the 
 woods around the Sugar Creek meeting-house ; of 
 the preaching and the prayer meetings ; of the old 
 patriarch's own conversion ; of the parting and 
 the meeting ; of the final leave-taking of earth, 
 and of the final meeting in the habitation of glory, 
 to go no more out. The old man melted down like 
 a child. Arising to go on his way, the talk contin- 
 ued to the door ; at the door it still continued, un- 
 til, wringing the minister's hand as though he would 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. gi 
 
 crush it, the old man tore himself away, sobbing 
 and crying so as to be audible half a square away. 
 In this way the heart of the man laid hold of his 
 friends, as with hooks of steel, and the grasp was al- 
 ways perpetual. Both pastor and parishioner have 
 now struck hands on the other side of the flood, 
 where there is no longer the voice of crying nor the 
 ministry of tears. 
 
 Although the roll was small at Sugar Creek, as 
 well as at Franklin, yet it, too, gradually increased 
 by the addition of the children of the church, as 
 well as by many families that had not hitherto been 
 connected with the congregation. And peace and 
 good feeling prevailed throughout the entire bounds. 
 
 In i8zj4 the General Assembly met at Louisville, 
 Kentucky. Mr. Dickson and his elder Bowman 
 were elected Commissioners. This was a fitting 
 time to make a visit to his father at Rock Island 
 Illinois. Mrs. Dickson accompanied him, and a long 
 and satisfactory visit was the result. The trip was 
 a pleasant one, taking them down the Ohio and up 
 the mighty Mississippi. And the pleasant sojourn ; 
 the excursions over the vast prairies amidst the rank 
 grasses and the luxuriant wild flowers ; then away 
 across to Chicago, and down the Lakes to Erie ; 
 and the return home in July, formed a very pleasant 
 episode in the life of the hard working pastor, It 
 was followed by new strength and vigor and a bet- 
 ter preparation for the work, and new incitement to 
 diligence and activity in the preaching of the Gos- 
 pel. It was a new step, too, in the gradual prepara- 
 
g2 Memorial. 
 
 tion of the man for the highest efficiency in the 
 work of his last years, the great Home Mission 
 field. 
 
 On the twenty-sixth day of August, 1845, the con- 
 gregation of Franklin felt themselves able to secure 
 the entire time of the pastor, and accordingly pre- 
 sented a call to the Presbytery to this effect. The 
 consideration of this call was postponed until the 
 next meeting. On the twenty-second day of Octo- 
 ber following, the matter was discussed, and the 
 remonstrances of the Sugar Creek people consider- 
 ed, when it was thought best to put the call into 
 Mr. Dickson's hands, and the church of Sugar Creek 
 was declared vacant from the first day of January, 
 1846. 
 
 This change relieved the pastor of the labor and 
 travel connected with the country church, and gave 
 him more time for study and pastoral work at home. 
 The change was perceptibly felt by the people in 
 the additional work that was performed. 
 
 At this time he began to give some attention to 
 the promotion of education amongst the young peo- 
 ple. The schools of the time were not of high grade. 
 There were no teachers of the languages nor of 
 higher Mathematics. He was a lover of the classics, 
 and had always kept up his acquaintance with them, 
 reading the pages of Virgil with a professor's love 
 and facility. He had not forgotten the old days at 
 Canonsburgh under Professor Kennedy's treatment 
 of the Mathematics, and could still talk about un- 
 known quantities and the functions of equations, as 
 
Pastoral Life in F7^anklin. gj 
 
 well as demonstrate the propositions of Euclid. So 
 the opportunity was given for such of the young 
 people as desired to come and take lessons in these 
 branches, hearing their recitations in his study. In 
 this way his own love for these branches was grati- 
 fied ; his mind was refreshed in the studies of the 
 past, and the opportunity afforded to his young 
 friends to commence studies that had else been be- 
 yond their reach. Perhaps there was a better end 
 accomplished than even these : it attracted the young 
 people to him. It brought them to his church ; it 
 interested them in the services of the church, and 
 so enlarged greatly the sphere of his influence and 
 usefulness. By all these means and instrumentali- 
 ties he worked out for himself a field, small indeed 
 in geographical extent and in the numbers of those 
 composing it, but yet a field important in its results 
 to himself and to the good of the Church at large. 
 It was an important school in which he was receiv- 
 ing training adapted to prepare him for the work 
 that was before him in after life, when he should 
 have put on his full strength, and be introduced to 
 a wider field of usefulness. So he stood in his lot 
 and was content to do God's will. 
 
 Though very much averse to letter writing, yet 
 he still used this medium of conveying advice and 
 instruction with great effect. When any of his 
 young people were away at school, he would corres- 
 pond with them, taking an interest in their studies, 
 exhorting them to diligence in their work, inciting 
 their minds to excellence, and opening up to them 
 
g4 Me7no7'ial. 
 
 the duties of coming life ; yet never forgetting the 
 great matter of their personal salvation. One of 
 his correspondents at this early period in his minis- 
 try says that she never knew him to write a letter 
 without making this matter of personal religion the 
 most prominent thing. And it seemed just a mat- 
 ter of course, as though it was in his mind at all 
 times and must come out. He would commence by 
 giving the news of the town ; the small matters that 
 would be gratifying to a young person away from 
 home ; then marriages and deaths ; the visiters in 
 town ; the persons absent in making similar visits : 
 then the subject would almost insensibly change 
 from gay to grave ; the great duties of life ; dili- 
 gence in study ; devotion to business ; the calls of 
 society, the Church, the world ; then there would 
 come the earnest question ; Do you love the Saviour ? 
 Do you grow in grace "i Do you pray much } Do 
 you find daily enjoyment in religion.'* 
 
 There are old letters, yellow with years and torn 
 by usage, still extant in his peculiar, cramped style 
 of hand writing, that would tell how he strove by all 
 means and by all instrumentalities to win souls to 
 Christ and help them forward in the divine life. 
 And these letters, esteemed by their owners as the 
 gold of the west would not be esteemed, but hidden 
 away in some sacred place, as the bright golden links 
 that bind them to the past, and the mementos of 
 one whose memory is worthy to be embalmed for 
 eternal remembrance. 
 
 At this period of his life he mingled much with 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. pj 
 
 men. He talked with them. He learned their ways. 
 He studied their methods. He was a most diligent 
 student of human nature. He looked at it in all 
 its forms and phases ; the good and bad were alike 
 the subjects of observation, and the different shades 
 of good and evil came before his mind for analysis, 
 as a most interesting and valuable study. He was 
 able to reach down very deeply into the human 
 heart, and discover motives that were all unseen 
 and unknown to the casual observer. And it was for 
 this purpose that he mingled in the affairs of men. 
 It was not for pastime, or love of excitement, but 
 that he might be furnished with knowledge and be 
 supplied with arguments, and be ready to meet men 
 on their own grounds. 
 
 He attended regularly the courts that were then 
 held quarterly in the town. He studied attentively 
 the methods of the attorneys at the Bar ; the points 
 of the Judge on the bench and the witnesses on the 
 stand : he make a careful study of the means used 
 in the tracing of crime ; the bearing of the prisoners, 
 and the tendency of public opinion in regard to the 
 criminal and his alleged crime. To his mind all 
 these things belonged to the study of man and the 
 proper understanding of the human heart. And all 
 this study and knowledge he brought to bear in his 
 pulpit ministrations, and in his thorough preparation 
 for preaching the entire truths of the gospel. And 
 they were a part of his general studies to which he 
 attached very great importance, and the time em- 
 ployed in this manner he considered well spent. 
 
g6 Memorial. 
 
 It was a common thing during these early days for 
 the remark to be make that if he had chosen the Bar 
 as his profession, he would have made a most bril- 
 liant lawyer, and would have adorned his profession. 
 And although this may have been true, yet there 
 were high and noble elements in his nature and 
 constitution that shone brightly and beautifully in 
 the preacher that would never have appeared in the 
 lawyer. They would have been like precious stones 
 buried in the deeps of the ocean, unwrought, un- 
 polished and unknown. Even in these early days 
 there was a freshness and a brilliancy in him that 
 showed that he was peculiarly qualified for the pro- 
 fession to which he had been called, and qualities 
 that would have been misplaced or lost in any other 
 profession. 
 
 But with all this study of nature and this observa- 
 tion of the human heart, there was something deep- 
 er and better and more valuable. There was a heart 
 within all aflame with the love of God. There was 
 a soul all attuned to the harmony of the Divine Na- 
 ture. There was a love for the souls of men that 
 many waters could not quench. Then there was 
 the Word of God, that like Timothy he had known 
 from his youth, and that he studied, not only to find 
 the path for his own guidance, as an individual 
 Christian, but for his guidance as a preacher of the 
 Gospel, and a guide to his fellow men. And so he 
 preached Christ to his fellow men. As he loved 
 and took in the Gospel himself, so he loved to com- 
 mend it to others and impress its value upon their 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin, p/ 
 
 souls. His own heart experience in the past and in 
 the present, was a most fruitful source from which 
 he gathered material to bring conviction to the 
 hearts of others and to encourage them in the way 
 of godliness. 
 
 In the summer of 1847, he made another journey 
 with his wife to the Mississippi, "to see and em- 
 brace his dear father once more", as he expressed it 
 in a letter to a friend. And these tender expres- 
 sions were common in every letter he wrote in refer- 
 ence to his parents and other relatives. They run 
 like a delicate golden thread throughout every epistle, 
 testifying the deep and unalterable love that dwelt 
 in his heart and how much he valued those who were 
 dear to him. And every few years, notwithstand- 
 ing the toil of travel in those early days, he made 
 his pilgrimage to the far west to see and converse 
 with his father. 
 
 This trip, in 1847, was a most delightful one, and 
 all parties were profited. The return journey was 
 again by the Lakes, stopping at the Manitou Islands, 
 buffeted by the storms, comforted by the calm 
 days that followed, and refreshed and invigorated 
 by the rest and the grateful breezes from the upper 
 lakes. Mr. Dickson was not only a hard working 
 man, but one who knew well the laws of health ; 
 and he was always careful to avail himself of any 
 time of recreation and take in to the full every ad- 
 vantage that might accrue from his seasons of rest. 
 
 In the meantime the people of Rock Island and 
 Camden became acquainted with the eastern preach- 
 
p<? Memorial. 
 
 er, and were attracted by his vigorous speech and 
 well ordered discourses, and began to express de- 
 sires for his ministry amongst them. His father was 
 consulted. He was now well stricken in years, and 
 would have been gratified beyond measure to have 
 had him near him during his last years. Over- 
 tures were made to the son with this appeal from 
 the aged father. The question of duty became a 
 very serious one. 
 
 Finally a call was made out by these two church- 
 es for his pastoral labors and forwarded to the Pres- 
 bytery of Erie. This call was laid before the Pres- 
 bytery at its meeting on the twenty second day of 
 December, 1847. Meanwhile the people of Rock 
 Island were urgent. It seemed to them that their 
 best interests required the work of the Pennsylva- 
 nia Pastor. But the Presbytery, after much discus- 
 sion, declined to put the call into his hands, and 
 the work went on as before at Franklin. 
 
 In the meantime the voices of invitation were 
 heard in another direction. A new organization was 
 spoken of in Wheeling, Virginia. The first church, 
 long under the pastoral care of Dr. Weed, was ready 
 to send out a colony that should be the nucleus of 
 a new church. Its roll was large, the city was ex- 
 tending its boundaries, and new territory was to be 
 cultivated. The church was not yet organized, but 
 the advice of a minister was thought desirable. 
 Several intelligent gentlemen, who had been con- 
 nected with a manufacturing establishment in 
 Franklin, and members of the congregation of Mr. 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. gg 
 
 Dickson there, had removed to Wheeling to engage 
 in the same business at that place. They spoke 
 with enthusiasm of the Franklin minister, and 
 urged that the people should hear him before em- 
 barking in the enterprise. He was invited, and 
 prevailed on to spend a Sabbath at Wheeling, which 
 he did, greatly to the satisfaction of the people. 
 
 Mr. Dickson returned to his home and went on 
 with his work. But the church was organized and 
 the result of the visit was that an election was held 
 for Pastor in the Second church. Wheeling, Mr. 
 Dickson was elected, a call was made out for his 
 pastoral labprs, and sent up, by a delegation to the 
 Presbytery of Erie at its meeting in Meadville, 
 Pennsylvania, and urged with all the influence pos- 
 sible before that body. This was on the fifteenth 
 day of March, 1848. 
 
 A letter was also received at the same meeting 
 of Presbytery from the churches of Rock Island 
 and Camden, asking Presbytery to re-consider their 
 former action, and place their call in Mr. Dickson's 
 hands. Presbytery re-considered their former ac- 
 tion and placed the calls both from Rock Island 
 and Wheeling in his hands for his consideration. 
 This was an anxious time for the Franklin pastor. 
 He revolved the question in his own mind carefully, 
 and consulted his friends, holding it under conside- 
 ration until the next morning, when he declared his 
 acceptance of the call from the Second Church, 
 Wheeling. 
 
 All that remained to be done now was to take 
 
100 Memorial. 
 
 the necessary steps for the dissolution of his pas- 
 toral relation to the church at Franklin, and his 
 transference to the scene of his future labors. The 
 Franklin church were asked for their assent, and by 
 their commissioner, Mr. Bowman gave this assent, 
 most reluctantly. The pastoral relation that bound 
 him to his first charge was sundered, and the 
 minister dismissed to the Presbytery of Washing- 
 ton. This was on the sixteenth day of March, 
 1848. In a few brief and tender words, and with 
 tears that could not be repressed, he took leave of 
 the Presbytery, stating that he never expected to 
 have a pleasanter charge, nor a dearer Presbyterial 
 relation upon earth. He asked the sympathies and 
 prayers of the brethren for himself and his infant 
 church, commended them to God and His love, and 
 went forth from the body that had licensed and or- 
 dained him with a full heart, yet with the convic- 
 tion that the path of duty lay before him. 
 
 The home was broken up. The old pulpit where 
 he had preached so many years was occupied for the 
 last time. The last adieus were spoken to the peo- 
 ple, and the minister and his wife and children took 
 their last home look at the place, that had become 
 endeared to them all by so many tender ties, and 
 turned their faces towards new scenes and new 
 labors and enjoyments ; but there was a feeling of 
 sadness in the hearts of the parents at the thought 
 of leaving a people so firmly bound to them by 
 tender ties. 
 
 With Mr. Dickson there was this very solemn 
 
Pastoral Life in Franklin. loi 
 
 thought, that he had closed a pastorate of eight 
 years, for which he was to account at the last to 
 Him who had counted him worthy, putting him into 
 the ministry. And when he spoke of this after- 
 wards he remarked that his strong trust and conso- 
 lation was in this ; "the blood of Jesus Christ His 
 Son cleanses from all sin." 
 
 But he bore away with him the love and confi- 
 dence of his people ; and in his own heart he felt a 
 love for this his first charge that never waned nor 
 grew cold. On every occasion of his return he was 
 not only greeted with kind words by the people, 
 but felt at home among them, and seemed ever to 
 bear them on his heart and in his love. 
 
V. PASTORAL LIFE AT WHEELING. 
 
 ^^ Skillful alike with tongue and pe^t^ 
 He preached to all men everywhere 
 The gospel of the Golden Rnle^ 
 The new Commandment given to men. 
 Thinking the deed and not the creed, 
 Would help iLS in our utmost need'' 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 ^^ Serving the Lord with all hiunility of mind, and 
 with many tears ^ 
 
 Acts xx. 19, 
 
V. PASTORAL LIFE AT WHEELING. 
 
 Mr. Dickson commenced his pastoral work in 
 Wheeling on the second Sabbath of April, 1848. 
 It was a new enterprize. The second church had 
 been organized but a short time. It was without 
 a church edifice and the members were few. But 
 they were all active^ willing supporters of the, new 
 minister, and threw heart and soul into the work ; 
 and from the first the blessing of the Lord rested 
 upon it. In the Session, the Choir, the Sabbath 
 School, the Prayer Meeting, the people with one 
 mind set themselves to work, and the hands of the 
 new pastor were upheld in a way that greatly en- 
 couraged and strengthened him. The work was 
 entered upon by the pastor with the same zeal and 
 energy that had characterized him in his former 
 charge at Franklin. He sought to become acquaint- 
 ed with the people. He studied their tastes, their 
 wants, their habits. His new line of study was in 
 the direction of their tastes and wants. He sou^rht 
 as well to please as to do them good. He laid out 
 work for himself, and work for his people and every 
 thing went forward with encouraging success. 
 
 He was received as a member of the Presbytery 
 of Washington on the nineteenth day of April 
 1848, and was installed as pastor of the second 
 
io6 Memorial. 
 
 church on the I2th of May, of the same year. At 
 its organization on the eighteenth of February, 
 1848, there were but fourteen members, eight of 
 whom were ladies. During this first pastorate of a 
 little more than eight years, more than four hun- 
 dred persons were received into it. 
 
 The following paper was prepared by Rev. Ed- 
 gar Woods, of Charlottesville, Virginia, who was 
 one of the original elders, and active helpers in 
 ihe infant church : 
 
 "Dr. Dickson removed from Franklin, Pa., in the 
 spring of 1848, to take charge of the 2d church of 
 Wheeling, Va., which was organized in February 
 of the same year, with fourteen members. Their 
 first place of meeting was a large room in the third 
 story of a building used for business purposes. 
 This apartment served the end, comparatively well, 
 for the time, notwithstanding the heat of Summer. 
 A Sabbath School was immediately put in operation. 
 The weekly lecture and prayer meeting were estab- 
 lished. The popular character of Dr. Dickson's 
 ministrations, his fluent speech and fervent spirit, 
 soon drew a large congregation. 
 
 The happy impression which he made reached 
 beyond the church and extended widely through- 
 out the community. This was seen, when the ef- 
 fort was begun, soon after, to provide for a perma- 
 nent house of worship. A friendly spirit was man- 
 ifested towards the new enterprise, and liberal sums 
 contributed, to carry out its plans. In the fall of 
 the year, (1848), a lot was purchased, in the section 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheelhig. loj 
 
 of the city lying south of Wheeling creek, and a 
 part of the building standing on it, which had for- 
 merly been the residence of one of the old families 
 of the place, was fitted up for the temporary occu- 
 pation of the congregation. In the meantime the 
 congregation was constantly increasing. It was 
 joined by a number of persons who had hitherto 
 been classed with other denominations. There 
 were attracted to it many who had never been in 
 the habit of attending the services of any church. 
 Nor was it long after the removal to the new place 
 of worship before the hearts of many were stirred 
 by the preaching of the word. A cheering revival 
 took place. Deep solemnity prevailed in the as- 
 semblies. Voices were lifted up in prayer which 
 had never been heard to pray before. The hearts 
 of the people were poured forth in the songs of 
 praise. The soul of the pastor was encouraged 
 and sustained by the large number of seals so soon 
 given to his ministry in his new field. 
 
 " In the following summer the foundations of a 
 spacious and comfortable church building were laid, 
 and the building itself was ready for occupancy 
 during the next winter. So steady and rapid had 
 been the growth of the congregation that the new 
 church was filled as soon as it was opened. From 
 this period, until Dr. Dickson's removal to Balti- 
 more, in 1856, the progress of the church in num- 
 bers, as well as in all departments of its work, 
 was continuous. At the end of his pastorate, 
 which stretched a little over eight years, it was one 
 
io8 ' Mcmoi'ial. 
 
 of the most influential churches of the Presbytery 
 and Synod to which it belonged. 
 
 "While many warm-hearted co-adjutors, and many 
 hearts earnest in prayer, were joined with Dr. 
 Dickson in this work, it is proper to say that it was 
 mainly accomplished by his well-directed labors 
 and influence. He was filled with the spirit of ar- 
 dent faith and piety. His reliance was fixed on 
 God's blessing. Notwithstanding his fine natural 
 gifts, he was thoroughly penetrated with the con- 
 viction that success was to be obtained, *'not by 
 might nor by power" but by the Spirit of the Lord. 
 He was diligent in inculcating this truth upon his 
 people. He lost no opportunity in urging them to 
 prayer. In meetings for this purpose he called 
 their attention to the immediate wants of the 
 Church. And as a preparation for the Sabbath, he 
 was accustomed during a large part of this period 
 to invite two or three of his most intimate Chris- 
 tian friends to meet with him on Saturday even- 
 ings to pray for a blessing on the services of the 
 ensuing day. 
 
 "He was eminently adapted to the pastoral work, 
 by his admirable social powers. One is seldom 
 met with who is more free and genial in his inter- 
 course with men. He was apposite in his address to 
 all classes — the young and the old, the ignorant and 
 the learned. He was able in whatever company he 
 mingled to suggest topics of conversation which 
 were both pertinent and within the range of all 
 present. Possessed of this quality, and possessed 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling. log 
 
 also of an ample fund of tender sympathy, he was 
 always a welcome visitor in the chambers of the 
 sick. His ready acquaintance with the promises 
 of Scripture, and his apt and fervent prayers, 
 often relieved the distressed, and comforted the 
 souls of the sorrowful. 
 
 ''But the preaching of the word was his great 
 gift. The Bible was his chief study. His mind 
 was full of its sacred truths. His knowledge of 
 the doctrines of grace, and their relations to each 
 other, was systematic and exact. His sermons 
 were deeply imbued with the gospel. The older 
 he grew the more attached he became to the sim- 
 ple expounding of scripture — not so much the ex- 
 planation of a lengthy and continuous passage, as 
 gathering together the leading texts bearing on 
 the subject in hand, and thereby setting it forth, in 
 all its varied lights. And his manner of present- 
 ing the truth, was exceedingly popular and effect- 
 ive. He was most fertile in illustration. His im- 
 ages were collected from every quarter, and exhib- 
 ited with rare felicity. His power of speech was 
 wonderful. He was never at a loss for a word, and 
 that word was almost always just the right word. 
 His enunciation, though rapid, was distinct. His 
 action was warm and animated. His countenance 
 and his whole figure were at times instinct with 
 the passionate fervor of his feelings, and when in- 
 spired with the magnitude of his subject, and im- 
 pressed with the sympathies of his audience, he 
 frequently rose to the highest sphere of public dis- 
 
no Memorial. 
 
 course, and carried away the understandings and 
 hearts of all before him with the rushing torrent 
 of his eloquence. 
 
 "Perhaps the most interesting of all the ministra- 
 tions of Dr. Dickson were his addresses at the 
 Monthly Concert. His heart fully sympathized 
 with the spirit of the command, *'Go ye into all 
 the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." 
 He cherished a lively interest in the glory of the 
 Saviour and an earnest zeal for the conversion of 
 the world. When he began to speak on this sub- 
 ject it seemed as if all his powers were enlarged 
 and quickened to their utmost extent. "His words 
 breathed and his thoughts burned," and though 
 men might come to hear him sceptical as to the 
 practical issues of the subject, or altogether indif- 
 ferent to it, yet few, after hearing him, went away 
 without being thrilled to their inmost hearts, with 
 the crying miseries of a lost world, and aroused by 
 the desire to extend to it a helping hand." 
 
 As the work went forward the labors of the Pas- 
 tor were multiform. Everything that his active, 
 eager mind could invent, that promised success in 
 good, was attempted, and generally resulted favor- 
 ably. One of his plans was a night school that 
 was held in the Lecture room of the church. It 
 met two or three evenings in the week, and was de- 
 signed more particularly for the young men of the 
 congregation who were employed during the day, 
 who wished to become more thoroughly educated 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling. iii 
 
 than their early opportunities had afforded, and who 
 could not give up their daily employments. Per- 
 sons outside the congregation were welcomed, and 
 this influence often brought them into a nearer re- 
 lation to the church. The teachers were all volun- 
 teers from the church. One elder and three friends, 
 two of whom became elders, all classical scholars, 
 joined the pastor in this work. 
 
 The enterprise was successful. It was entirely 
 gratuitous work and brought forth some rich fruits. 
 Some of these pupils were very successful in after 
 life. One of them became a foreign missionary, 
 and one is now an honored minister in Western 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 One of the elements of the success of this 
 church enterprise was its thorough organization 
 from the beginning. In addition to this there was 
 zeal and piety not only in the minister, but in all 
 the members. One of these early members says : 
 ''Every part of church work was carried forward 
 with earnestness and zeal — the minister had many 
 helpers — I do not know that I ever knew a church 
 where the men had so much spirituality and devo- 
 tion." A strong element in this success was, no 
 doubt, the dependence the people all had on the 
 blessing of God sent down through fervent, believ- 
 ing prayer. 
 
 During the winter of 1848-9, a powerful revival 
 was experienced in the church. The preaching 
 had been warm and earnest, yet withal the simple 
 truth of the Gospel. It was God's way of salva- 
 
112 Memorial. 
 
 tion set forth plainly and simply. It was the old 
 doctrines that had shaken the churches of western 
 Pennsylvania and Virginia at the beginning of the 
 century ; the total depravity of the heart ; the con- 
 demnation of a holy law ; and the utter inability of 
 the sinner to work out salvation for himself. It 
 was the presentation of Christ crucified for sinners, 
 taking the place of sinners, bearing their sins in 
 His own body on the tree, and thus making an 
 atonement for them. It was the Holy Spirit's 
 agency in regenerating, renewing and sanctifying 
 and fitting for God's service. And then it was the 
 earnest call to faith and repentance and prayer. 
 All these things were made prominent, and then 
 there was the earnest call to embrace at once the 
 offer of salvation. 
 
 Previous to this there had been the earnest talks 
 of the Session, with constant prayer on the part of 
 each member for the blessing of God on the means, 
 and there had been the quiet talks with the people 
 in regard to the common salvation, until almost ev- 
 ery heart in the congregation had been stirred, and 
 a feeling not only of anxiety, but of expectation 
 had been felt amongst the people, whether profes- 
 sors or not. As the people talked often one to 
 another a book of remembrance was written for 
 them that feared the Lord and that thought upon 
 His name. The people were ready for the revival, 
 and it came with most precious fruits and most 
 blessed comfort to the pastor and his people. 
 
 The instrumentalities used were simple, the 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling. iij 
 
 preaching of the Gospel, meetings for prayer and 
 religious conversation ; invitations to meet the pas- 
 tor and Session in private, and above all the earnest 
 cry of the people to God for the presence and pow- 
 er of His Holy Spirit. These meetings resulted 
 in a wonderful ingathering to the church. It was 
 a quiet, solemn work. God was present with His 
 people, answering prayer, rewarding faith, convert- 
 ing sinners, and building up his people. This year 
 of solemnity will never be forgotten by that church. 
 
 Another result of this revival was the extension 
 of the influence of the church where it had never 
 been felt before. It was felt not only by the little 
 band that begun to worship in the hired house at 
 the beginning of the pastorate, but by those who 
 had never been recognized by any church. There 
 was an influence from within that was felt from 
 without, the people began to come in and find a 
 church home where they had never sought such a 
 home before nor even felt the importance of such 
 a home. God's Spirit was present, drawing them 
 to the house of God, and His power was felt making 
 his word as a fire and as a hammer that breaketh 
 the rock in pieces. And the influence was felt in 
 that new portion of the city leavening it with the 
 leaven of the Gospel and thereby improving it in 
 every aspect of its spiritual condition. 
 
 The following letters, written during the progress 
 of this revival, to his father, will convey some idea 
 of his own estimate of the work, and of his joy in 
 the Lord as he refers to it : 
 
11^ Memorial. 
 
 Wheeling, Dec. 1848. 
 
 — "There is a very general seriousness in our 
 congregation. Our church both day and night was 
 filled utterly full and I am told that more than two 
 hundred went away who could not get in at all." 
 
 January, 1849. 
 
 — "For the last three months a quiet, happy 
 work of the Spirit has been progressing amongst us. 
 We have had a delightful winter so far as religion 
 is concerned. I am a happy pastor over a happy 
 people." 
 
 Wheeling, Feb., 1849. 
 
 — "In this work there is no noise, no extra meet- 
 ings. It is characterized by great stillness in pub- 
 lic worship and the great numbers that attend. 
 There are many who have not been in any church 
 for years, and my congregation, to a great extent, is 
 made up of those who went "nowhere." 
 
 The Session remains every Sabbath and Wednes- 
 day evening, after public worship, to impart coun- 
 sel and instruction to any who may desire it. I 
 have good hopes that the work will be a permanent 
 one. One great comfort to me is, that out of the 
 25 added at the last communion nearly all were 
 heads of families." 
 
 Whilst in Wheeling, Mr. Dickson made one or 
 two trips to Rock Island to visit his venerable 
 father, now growing somewhat infirm, in his ad- 
 vancing years. On his return from one of these 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling. ii^ 
 
 tours he remarked to the household that the 
 order of things was somewhat changed during the 
 lapse of years, inasmuch as he now had made the 
 trip in the same number of hours that it had re- 
 quired days to make the same journey in 1836. 
 
 In 1849, h^ ^3.s appointed Stated Clerk to the 
 Presbytery of Washington, an office he continued 
 to hold until his removal to the Presbytery of Bal- 
 timore. He was, during a part of his sojourn here, 
 a Director of the Western Theological Seminary 
 in Allegheny, resigning on his removal to the east. 
 His influence was felt largely at this time not only 
 in the west but in the eastern portion of the church, 
 and his name was mentioned frequently in connec- 
 tion with the great church enterprises of the day. 
 This influence was felt in the Synod of Wheeling, 
 where great reliance was placed in his judgment. 
 He did not often speak, yet when important ques- 
 tions were at issue, his short incisive sentences, so 
 clearly and sharply cut, in his brief speeches, al- 
 ways had weight, and greatly influenced the body 
 in its conclusions. In the same way, in the Gener- 
 al Assembly, whilst he was generally silent, yet at 
 times the sharp, quick glance of his eye was the 
 signal of such interest as to cause him to rise and 
 give his views with very great distinctness. 
 
 He kept up his correspondence with his father 
 regularly, and in the extract from one of these let- 
 ters we see something of the spirit that animated 
 his inner life : 
 
ii6 Memorial. 
 
 Dec, 1854. 
 
 **If to see these things 'in a glass darkly,' is so 
 sweet, what will it be to see them ''face to face" 
 and if to know them even partially is so exciting, 
 how glorious will it be to know them as they are 
 known. Let us be ready for heaven. From its glo- 
 rious mountain-tops we can see far away over all 
 the hills and valleys of this little world we now in- 
 habit. The day of our departure is drawing nigh — 
 let us be always ready T 
 
 His popularity as a preacher was universally ac- 
 knowledged at this time, and his power in the city, 
 now rapidly growing up, fully felt. A friend of 
 his, arriving at one of the hotels on Saturday night, 
 approached the office on Sabbath morning to in- 
 quire the way to the church. He found that he 
 was anticipated by two other gentlemen, who were 
 inquiring who was the best preacher in the city, as 
 they d'esired to go to church. The gentlemanly 
 clerk, with an earnest look, replied : "Oh go to 
 Dickson's church, of course, if you wish to hear 
 the best preacher." 
 
 During his pastorate he delivered a course of 
 Sabbath evening lectures on the seven seals, from 
 the Revelation, that attracted great attention, even 
 beyond his own immediate congregation. Whilst 
 these discourses were judicious and evangelical, 
 and instructive, they were somewhat in advance of 
 the generally received interpretation given by the 
 older- Commentators. They were the result of his 
 own private thinking and of his own observation of 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling. iiy 
 
 the course of history, drawing his conclusions from 
 the past and from these making his forecast of the 
 future. 
 
 Whilst he did not advertise his subjects, nor use 
 any unusual methods to attract the attention of those 
 outside his own congregation, he often preached se- 
 ries of sermons that excited the attention of his 
 own people and gave a zest to subjects that would 
 not otherwise have made so strong an impression 
 on their minds. 
 
 A letter to a member of the session of the Wheel- 
 ing church, written from the Secretary's desk, is in- 
 serted here, as showing the feelings of the pastor 
 for his old flocks, though occupied by other duties : 
 
 FROM CYRUS DICKSON TO ROBERT CRANGLE. 
 
 ''New York, April 6, 1877. 
 
 It was 29 years Monday since I reached Wheel- 
 ing with my family. It is a good while ago and a 
 good many changes have occurred since ! Some 
 have been born and many have died with whom we 
 have been and are still tenderly connected. Your 
 head is covered with iron-gray but mine is white 
 as snow. I am conscious of being the same sinner 
 as then, with, I trust, deeper knowledge of and ad- 
 miration for God's infinite and unmerited grace. I 
 remember once preaching in Wheeling a long time 
 ago on Paul's expression in Cor. "By the grace of 
 God I am what I am." I think I feel it more and 
 understand it better now by many fold than then. 
 
 '' Do you remember the meetings you and Edgar 
 
Ii8 Memorial. 
 
 and I used to have long ago ? How tenderly I 
 loved you both ! We will meet again in heaven 
 where we will recount the wonders of the way — 
 Mc Kelly, Sharpe, and Moore, and — what numbers ! 
 
 "I pray every day for the people with whom I have 
 lived in my ministry. I look back upon my pastor- 
 al work in Franklin, Wheeling and Baltimore with 
 great humbleness of mind and at the same time 
 with devout thanksgiving to God for His grace and 
 mercy given. No man has ever been blessed with 
 kinder Christian friends than I. God bless them 
 all." 
 
 Whilst the work was going forward as usual at 
 Wheeling the attention of the people of the West- 
 minster, church, Baltimore, was attracted to the 
 Pastor. That church had become vacant, and as 
 they looked about for a supply for their pulpit, 
 the name of Mr. Dickson was mentioned as a 
 person admirably adapted to their peculiar wants. 
 The sprightliness of his style, the evangelical char- 
 acter of his sermons, and the fervor and dignity of 
 his bearing in the pulpit, had all commended them- 
 selves to a casual hearer from the Baltimore Church, 
 and on his suggestion Mr. Dickson was elected 
 Pastor, and a formal call made out for his Pastoral 
 labors. 
 
 The idea of a separation between Pastor and peo- 
 ple is always a painful one, where there is a feeling 
 of love and confidence between them. The ties 
 become very strong. They are like those of the 
 family relation, and cannot be sundered without do- 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling. iig 
 
 ing violence to the tenderest feelings of the heart 
 Nor should such ties be sundered without the clear- 
 est convictions of duty, and the plainest indications 
 of the will of God. In this case the struggle was 
 long and painful. But the second church of Wheel- 
 ing had become strong and self-sustaining. Per- 
 haps the work was done there ; perhaps there was 
 work for the pastor in Baltimore. Perhaps others 
 could take up the work in Wheeling and carry it 
 on better than he, and what seemed appropriate 
 work was opening up for him in the new field. 
 These were the questions that were agitating the 
 mind of Mr. Dickson, and concerning which he 
 was seeking light. He had labored with the same 
 questions before, and his belief was that he had 
 been directed by the Holy Spirit, and he sought 
 the same direction now. 
 
 There were the two sides to the question. The 
 work in Wheeling had been successful and the 
 Lord had blessed him beyond his most sanguine 
 hopes. He had gathered around him a band of 
 Christian workers, such as are found in few church- 
 es. He was devotedly attached to them. The 
 session had met and talked and prayed togeth- 
 er so often that they were most tenderly attached 
 to each other, and the Pastor felt that it would be 
 little less than agony to leave such a session and 
 such a congregation. On the other side he was the 
 Lord's servant, separated to His work, bound to go 
 at His call, and should be ready to labor in any 
 part of the field where he might be assigned by 
 
120 Memorial. 
 
 the great leader. But as he thought, and reasoned 
 and tried to take in the whole question of duty, the 
 impression became strong in his own mind that he 
 should go to Baltimore. The announcement was 
 made to his session and then to his congregation, 
 and they were invited to join him in asking the 
 Presbytery to dissolve the pastoral relation existing 
 between them. 
 
 Unwilling as the congregation were to do this, 
 they saw that his mind was made up and they gave 
 a reluctant consent, and the relation was dissolved. 
 This was on the twenty-third day of October, 1856. 
 At the same time he was dismissed to the Presby- 
 tery of Baltimore. 
 
 Once more the home was broken up, the great 
 burden was rolled upon his family as well as him- 
 self of sundering most tender ties, and going forth 
 amongst strangers. But the entire household were 
 ready to make the sacrifice at this call from what 
 seemed the way of the Lord, and preparations were 
 made for removal to the new home and the new 
 field of labor. The words of farewell were said ; 
 they looked into the faces of the people ; hands 
 were pressed and the little family were on their 
 way whither they seemed to be directed by the 
 same power that guided Israel of old to the field of 
 their settlement in Canaan. 
 
 The work in Wheeling had commenced in faith 
 and prayer, and had been carried forward in hope 
 and courage, with manly work and effort. Those 
 eight years were years of seed-sowing, trusting in 
 
Pasto7'al Life at Wheeling. 121 
 
 the Lord of the harvest. But they were also years 
 of wonderful ingathering. Sometimes it seemed 
 as though the winter had fallen upon the church, 
 but this was succeeded by the harvest, and pastor 
 and people rejoiced together. The records of the 
 church show that the entire pastorate was one of 
 successful work and successful enjoyment, through 
 the blessing of God. And the unrecorded success, 
 could it be known, would have been equally gratify- 
 ing, as the results might have shown the power of 
 divine truth lodged in the hearts of men and bring- 
 ing forth fruit after many days. 
 
 One strong characteristic of this pastorate of 
 Mr. Dickson, is the power of personal effort, rely- 
 ing on the help of the Holy Spirit, in answer to 
 persistent, importunate prayer. This was the Al- 
 pha and the Omega in the work from its beginning 
 to its close. It throws a hallowed light upon the 
 entire work that encourages faith, animates hope 
 and strengthens resolution on the part of all who 
 would be wise to win souls to Christ. 
 
 The following letter from Rev. James I. Brown- 
 son, D. D., pastor of the Presbyterian Church, 
 Washington, Penn., has reference to the Wheeling 
 pastorate. 
 
 Washington, Penn., June ist, 1882. 
 Rev. S. J. M. Eaton, D. D., 
 
 Dear Brother : — My heart promptly 
 responds to your request for some reminiscences of 
 our very dear and noble friend, the late Rev. Cyrus 
 
122 Memorial. 
 
 Dickson, D. D., especially covering the period of his 
 connection with the Presbytery of Washington. 
 
 Simply to establish my right to bear witness, 
 not as a stranger, I may be allowed a brief refer- 
 ence to the ties which united our departed brother 
 and myself in close sympathy. He was my senior 
 by about three months. During most of our colle- 
 giate training we were contemporaries — he in Jeffer- 
 son College, and I in Washington, seven miles 
 apart, with the difference of one year in the time 
 of graduation. We met, in intimacy, at the annual 
 sessions of the old Synod of Pittsburg, until the 
 Master's will transferred him from the Presbytery 
 of Erie, in 1848, and me from Redstone, in 1849, ^^ 
 the Presbytery of Washington, and the Synod of 
 Wheeling. No one of my brethren gave me a 
 more cordial welcome into these new relations than 
 Brother Dickson. Nor, until the Autumn of 1856, 
 when he accepted the call to the Westminster 
 church of Baltimore, did our intercouse ever fail to 
 be that of mutual esteem and love. I was made a 
 confidential recipient of his intense heart-conflicts, 
 at that crisis of removal when he felt constrained 
 to follow his conviction of duty against the strong 
 protest of his affections. And through the com- 
 parative separation of a quarter of a century, until 
 his death, our friendship did not abate. 
 
 But in this statement of brotherly relations, 
 nothing exceptional is claimed. Other members of 
 the Presbytery were as intimate with Dr. Dickson 
 as myself, and there were none who did not regard 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeling, 12 j 
 
 him with habitual kindness and admiration. His 
 sincere, frank, genial and playful spirit never failed 
 to win and hold their good will. Both in public 
 and private intercourse his delicate regard for the 
 sensibilities of his brethren, was one of his most 
 marked characteristics, and its demonstration was 
 never wanting when there was an occasion for 
 smoothing difficulties, healing wounded hearts, or 
 reconciling conflicting opinions and policies. Crav- 
 ing sympathy for himself he was ever ready to ex- 
 tend it to others, coming readily under his burdens 
 His practical common sense, manly fairness, polite- 
 ness, kindness, social pleasantry, polished wit, and 
 abiding friendship gave him far more than usual 
 personal influence. His companionship was both 
 sought and valued by all classes of persons. 
 
 In the business of church courts our brother 
 had no superior among us, and few equals. Our 
 venerable senior brethren. Weed, Mc Cluskey, 
 Stockton, Mc Kennan, Hervey, Scott, Eagleson and 
 Wines, themselves men of ability and influence, 
 heard him with respect for the clearness of his 
 views, as well as their eloquent utterance, and 
 were ever ready to place him in positions of trust 
 and responsibility. Habitually modest, it was not 
 in his power to keep himself out of the front rank, 
 whether as chairman of important committees, as 
 stated clerk of Presbytery, as an effective debater, 
 as a powerful pleader for schemes of church ad- 
 vancement, and as a still more powerful pleader for 
 missionary consecration and liberality. And even 
 
124 Memorial. 
 
 then, the tact and power of administration, joined 
 with platform eloquence, were discovered, and often 
 pressed into the service of the Master and his 
 Church, which, in the development of riper years, 
 stirred his brethren of the Church at large to resist- 
 less urgency in demanding his abandonment of his 
 beloved pastoral labors for the crowning, if not 
 crushing, work of his life. One striking illustration 
 of this force, I can readily recall, in his masterly 
 appeal for a voluntary division of the Presbytery of 
 Washington, so as to unite the wealthy churches of 
 the city of Wheeling and others adjacent to it, with 
 the large and neglected territory since embraced in 
 the Presbytery of West Virginia, so as better to se- 
 cure its spiritual culture. The statistics, logic and 
 eloquence of the plea were unanswerable, even 
 though, in the vote, the reluctance of brethren who 
 had long dwelt in pleasant unity to separate, ap- 
 peared. But others like myself have attributed, 
 in part, the increased interest felt since in the 
 work of the Presbyterian church in that region of 
 need and promise, to that very speech. 
 
 Dr. Dickson's service as a preacher and pastor, 
 during the years now under review has an abiding 
 record. He was more of a speaker than a writer. 
 His sermons were carefully studied with but little 
 use of the pen, for the reason that his mental oper- 
 ations were too quick and cogent for adequate elab- 
 oration on paper. But they were Scriptural, clear, 
 evangelical, lively, variously and happily illustrated, 
 exhaustive, pointed, and impressive. Cultured 
 
Pastoral Life at Wheeli7ig. 12^ 
 
 minds were edified by them, and ''the common 
 people heard him gladly." If the fervor of his 
 impassioned presentations of Christ to perishing 
 souls now and then offered words and phrases to 
 the censure of a cold criticism, it seldom failed that 
 criticism itself was swept away by the life-current 
 of thought and emotion which carried the hearer into 
 the presence of the Searcher of hearts. Pastoral 
 vigilance, also, fulfilling its purpose in family visita- 
 tion, personal attention to the sick, the sorrowful and 
 the bereaved, and special efforts in behalf of the 
 youth, both in and out of the Sabbath school, did 
 not fail to enforce the proclamations of the pulpit. 
 And so the church prospered, believers were edified, 
 and souls were born of the Spirit. A devoted peo- 
 ple clung to their pastor to the last, and followed 
 him with their love and prayers when he was gone. 
 I cannot close this letter, without a slight allusion 
 to his happy domestic relations. I have been suf- 
 ficiently in his home to concur heartily in his con- 
 fessed indebtedness, for a large share of his useful- 
 ness, as well as his joy, to the fine discernment, 
 poised judgment, affectionate steadfastness and ef- 
 ficient co-operation of the wife who, now in be- 
 reavement, as none other can, holds him in honor 
 in her heart. To her, to her venerable mother, 
 and to her daughters — especially to her who, abid- 
 ing in the parental home, has been permitted to be 
 an angel of support to a blessed father now a saint 
 in glory — I offer assurances of sympathy and re- 
 gard. Very truly yours, 
 
 James I. Brownson. 
 
VL PASTORAL LIFE AT BALTIMORE. 
 
 He preached as 7iever sure to preach agam, 
 
 A fid as a dying- man to dying men. 
 Love breathing thanks and praise T 
 
 Baxter. 
 
 '■''Therefore watch, and remefnber, that by the space 
 of three years I ceased not to warn every one night 
 and day with tears ^ 
 
 Acts xx. 31. 
 
VI. PASTORAL LIFE AT BALTIMORE. 
 
 The work commenced in Baltimore in November, 
 1856. The Westminster church had just crystal- 
 ized into firmness and strength, and had been ex- 
 periencing the uneasiness and the uncertainty of a 
 first vacancy. Rev. William J. Hoge had been their 
 former Pastor, and under his ministrations the 
 church had assumed form and consistency. Now 
 that the chasm had been bridged over and the new 
 pastor was in the field, the people rallied around him 
 and gave him their confidence and support. 
 
 Mr. Dickson was received into the Presbytery of 
 Baltimore on the twenty-seventh day of November 
 1856, and installed as pastor of the Westminster 
 church on the same day. Personally the circum- 
 stances of his commencement were not favorable to 
 his comfort and the enjoyment of the work. The 
 family had not yet arrived ; arrangements were to 
 be made for their accommodation ; visits were to 
 be made elsewhere ; months would pass before the 
 social circle would be re-formed and the time seemed 
 to pass slowly and heavily. There was the extem- 
 porized study, the work in the congregation, and 
 in the pulpit ; but there was not the home, and al- 
 though the work was entered upon vigorously, yet 
 the result was that a feeling of unutterable loneli- 
 
I JO Memorial, 
 
 ness came over him that he could not restrain. 
 He even began to doubt whether he had not acted 
 " hastily in changing his field of labor, and looked 
 back with longing eyes to the calm, pleasant home 
 at Wheeling, and the many friends he had left there. 
 
 This feeling was probably the result of two 
 causes : the absence of his family and the con- 
 sequent want of the old home ; and secondly, the 
 re-action from the terrible excitement consequent 
 upon the removal from the Wheeling charge. 
 A temperament like his is most readily affect- 
 ed by causes of this nature. And it seemed 
 to him that he could hardly be reconciled to the 
 change of circumstances. The same violent shock 
 had been felt on leaving Franklin and settling in 
 Wheeling. But in that instance there was the 
 presence of wife and children, and the home com- 
 menced at once, and was but a change of place and 
 surroundings. In this case the home and its influ- 
 ences had not yet been removed to the new field, 
 and a feeling akin to home sickness almost pros- 
 trated him. In spite of all the attentions of 
 friends whose hearts went out to him in sympathy, 
 time moved slowly and heavily and the poor minis- 
 ter had the same experience that Paul had ''When 
 driven up and down in Adria," the prey of the Eu- 
 roclydon, as he waited for the calming of the 
 storm "and wished for the day." 
 
 A letter written to his father during these troub- 
 lous times will show something of the trials and 
 disturbances that gathered around him about this 
 
Pastoral Life at Balthnore. iji 
 
 time, and something of the conflict through which 
 he passed. It will also show that the minister was 
 not alone in the trial and trouble and heartbreaking 
 that grew out of the change, and the breaking up 
 of old ties that had grown strong. The other 
 members of the circle had been partakers of the 
 trial. 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 Nov. 1856. 
 "I cannot tell you, with my pen, the pangs and 
 sorrows I passed through in leaving Wheeling. I 
 will do it when I see you. It nearly took my life, 
 and I am by no means over it yet. Poor Delia : 
 her heart was torn, bruised, and almost broken. If 
 I had known how much I loved them, and how 
 much they loved me, I perhaps would be there still." 
 
 But these dark months passed, and the light be- 
 gan to break in, and he found that this conflict was 
 with poor, disordered nerves, rather than with eith- 
 er spiritual enemies or his own waywardness. Yet 
 the letter brings out some of the fine points of the 
 man, and shows us in what direction he looked for 
 relief. He also said to a friend, about this time, 
 that he had found great force in the prayer of the 
 prophet '*0 Lord, I am oppressed ; undertake for 
 me," and had made it his own continually. 
 
 But the sky is not always overcast with clouds ; 
 the sun will, ere long, burst forth in its beauty and 
 the dark shadows will depart. Even the great, ma- 
 jestic ocean, when vexed with storms, will at last 
 
1^2 Memorial. 
 
 sob itself to rest, and the peace and tranquility 
 will be beautiful. So the troubles of the new pas- 
 tor passed away ; the clouds were withdrawn from 
 his sky ; the great ocean was calm once more and 
 all promised peace and contentment in the new 
 work. During the first days of January of the fol- 
 lowing year, the family were gathered together 
 once more and the home was established in Lexing- 
 ton Street, and everything put on a cheerful ap- 
 pearance, as the minister began to reproach him- 
 self for his want of faith and trust in the goodness 
 of divine Providence, and resolve that in the future 
 none of these things should move him or interfere 
 with the serenity of his mind. 
 
 The study was established in the quietest room 
 in the new home ; its labors went forward, and the 
 result was seen in the earnest attention of the 
 hearers. The pastoral visits had been commenced 
 at first in company with one of the Session, and 
 then alone, just as he had leisure, or as his warm 
 feelings prompted him. But the prompting came 
 full often, and the pastor would come home in the 
 evening wearied, and feeling that he could not 
 soon undertake the work again. Yet the next after- 
 noon would find him in the street as before, meet- 
 ing his people with the same bland smile, and the 
 same cordial greeting as usual, talking with them, 
 praying with them when the way was opened, and 
 striving in every way to do them good. 
 
 There was in his mind the remembrance of the 
 old days in Wheeling when such power was felt 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltmzore. ijj 
 
 from the presence of the Holy Spirit, with the 
 sweet times of revival and ingathering. And 
 there came over him a most intense longing for the 
 repetition of just such days as had filled his soul 
 with joy and rejoicing at that time. And there 
 were the early morning hours in his study, while 
 the household were asleep, alone with God ; the 
 reading of the chosen portions of the word, and 
 the wrestling with the angel of the covenant, with 
 the resolution often and often repeated, of the 
 Patriarch at the ford Jabbok : '' I will not let 
 thee go except thou bless me." And there were 
 the plain, pointed talks in the week-day meetings ; 
 there were the meetings for consultation and pray- 
 er with the session ; and what was most encourag- 
 ing to the pastor's heart, there was the dawning 
 light in his own soul that told him that God's bless- 
 ing was near. 
 
 Soon after the seal of the divine approval was 
 placed upon his work. The Spirit was poured out, 
 and the people as well as the Pastor began to pray. 
 Many prayed for the first time; others who had 
 prayed with calmness and propriety and with stud- 
 ied phrase, now poured out the genuine feelings of 
 a quickened heart. There was a directness and an 
 unction in the preaching that showed that the min- 
 ister's heart was deeply stirred, and that he was in 
 an agony for souls. There was a quietness in the 
 house of God that was deeply felt, for it was obvi- 
 ous that the Lord was there, moving upon the 
 hearts of the people and constraining sinners to be- 
 
IJ4 Me7norial. 
 
 lieve. The impression on every heart was that 
 God's Spirit was present in unwonted power and 
 that a precious work of grace was going forward. 
 
 This wondrous work resulted in a greater ingath- 
 ering than had ever blessed the church before. 
 They were from all classes and from all ages. 
 They numbered over an hundred, and were notably 
 valuable from the positions they occupied in the 
 congregation and in the community. There were 
 not only the children of the church, the young 
 men and the young women, for whom pious fathers 
 and mothers had labored and prayed ; but fathers 
 and mothers of households ; professional men ; 
 men in business and in politics ; men of influence 
 in society and capable of giving tone and power to 
 their new convictions. And with all this there 
 was mingled devout thanksgiving to God for His 
 goodness and mercy to sinners and to His people. 
 When God's people wait for Him and bring their 
 tithes into the storehouse. He always pours them 
 out a blessing beyond their expectations. 
 
 The work was permanent. It was not like the 
 morning cloud and the early dew, but rather like 
 the early and the latter rain that make theea rth 
 glad, enabling the mower to fill his hand and he 
 that bindeth sheaves his bosom. There was the 
 fulfilment of the promise : ''I will be as the dew 
 . unto Israel : he shall grow as the lily, and cast 
 forth roots as Lebanon. His branches shall spread, 
 and his beauty shall be as the olive tree, and his 
 smell as Lebanon." This gracious influence con- 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. iJS 
 
 tinned through the following year, while the mem- 
 bership of the church was doubled and a new 
 character impressed upon it. 
 
 There was a very valuable Session in the church 
 at this time. They were praying men, thoughtful 
 men ; men who not only loved their pastor but as- 
 sisted him in his work. Pastor and Session worked 
 together, prayed together, and God gave them the 
 unspeakable blessing of reaping together, and the 
 harvest was plentiful and glorious. The result of 
 this work of grace in the church was felt in every 
 direction. " All departments of church work flour- 
 ished and all forms of benevolence were greatly en- 
 larged. This was felt at home ; the Boards of the 
 church felt its influence and the reflex influence 
 was felt in the hearts of the people, enlarging 
 them, deepening their sympathies for the world at 
 large, and bringing them nearer to the heart of 
 God. 
 
 At the Commencement at Washington College, 
 in September 1858, Mr. Dickson received the hon- 
 orary degree of Doctor of Divinity. It was the 
 proper and worthy recognition of the worth and 
 value of the man, and particularly graceful as com- 
 ing from an institution that had been a rival of his 
 own Alma Mater. 
 
 In the Summer of i860, Dr. Dickson made ar- 
 rangements for an extended tour to Europe and the 
 East by way of relaxation from the severe strain of 
 continuous labor, and for the advantages of foreign 
 travel. Accordingly, all things being in readiness, 
 
13^ Memorial. 
 
 he took shipping about the twentieth of June on 
 the Cunard steamer Africa, and in due time landed 
 in Liverpool. The journey was thence through 
 Chester to London. Here visits were made to the 
 renowned places in the Great Metropolis. Old 
 Saint Paul's was a prominent object of admiration, 
 with its memories of old Sir Christopher Wren and 
 its monuments of England's dead soldiers and sail- 
 ors. Westminster Abbey was a place of almost 
 daily resort, where he wandered amid aisles and 
 chapels consecrated by the memories of so many of 
 the great ones in England's past history, poets and 
 orators and statesmen, and warriors and scientists, 
 and where rest the remains of the kings and queens 
 that mark the wonderful history of England. He 
 regarded with very great interest the old tombs of 
 Mary Queen of Scots, of Elizabeth and Mary, and 
 the Charleses, and Edwards and Henrys, whose his- 
 tories seemed to reach so far back into the misty 
 past ! And there were pointed out to him the old 
 stone of Scone on which Robert the Bruce had been 
 anointed king of Scotland, and on which all the 
 kings and queens of England have been anointed 
 since ; also the old coronation chair, still connected 
 with the coronation of Royalty to the present time. 
 Then at three o'clock he sat down with his mind 
 filled with these great memories, and subdued by 
 the solemn lessons of antiquity, to listen to the 
 music connected with the evening service. To 
 have heard this music is to remember it forever. 
 The deep notes of the organ mingled with the rich 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. ijy 
 
 voices of the boy choir go up to the lofty ceiling, 
 and, echoing from arch, and capital, and deep recess, 
 seem almost like what we imagine the music of the 
 angels in mid-heaven ! 
 
 The Tower of London came in for its share of 
 attention. And in passing over its draw-bridge, 
 and walking through its courts and climbing its 
 towers, there came up to his vivid imagination vis- 
 ions of its mighty past, with the men and women 
 who were prominent characters in history, who 
 languished in these prisons, and who laid their 
 heads on the block still shown in the court. 
 Among these were Wallace and Charles II, and 
 Lady Jane Grey and Raleigh. 
 
 Passing over the Channel he was joined in Paris 
 by his old friend and classmate and fellow laborer 
 in Baltimore, Rev. J. T. Smith, D. D. Spending 
 a time in this great center of wealth and fashion 
 and taking in something of its wealth of art, they 
 passed south through Lyons and Marseilles, where 
 they took the French steamer to the Orient. Their 
 first landing was at Malta, where they took in the 
 scene of Paul's shipwreck and marvellous escape 
 to land, and thence to Alexandria, passing by 
 Crete and the Fair Havens. At this ancient city 
 of the great world conqueror they first learned of 
 the troubles in Syria, and the terrible massacre in 
 Damascus, that might interfere with their projected 
 trip to Palestine. This persecution of the Chris- 
 tians had been commenced by the Druzes that 
 throng the sides of Mount Lebanon, and was taken 
 
ijS Memorial. 
 
 up by the Mohammedans. Many of these Chris- 
 tians had taken refuge in Damascus, coming in 
 from the neighboring villages. In that ancient 
 city, at a given signal, the Mohammedans commenc- 
 ed an indiscriminate slaughter ; in which some 
 three thousand were supposed to have been slain. 
 
 On account of these troubles, and the positive 
 danger of travel in Syria, the tourists were per- 
 suaded by Mr. De Leon, the American Consul at 
 Alexandria, to abandon their trip. This conclu- 
 sion was arrived at very reluctantly, for they had 
 calculated very confidently on seeing the Holy 
 City, and walking over the land consecrated by the 
 footsteps of Prophets and Apostles, and moistened 
 by the tears and the blood of the Son of God. 
 They had hoped to have bathed their eyes at the 
 Pool of Siloam ; to have listened to the echoes of 
 the angelic voices in the plains of Bethlehem ; to 
 have bowed down and prayed in Gethsemane ; to 
 have entertained sweet memories of the Passion 
 and Resurrection of the Lord in the church of the 
 Holy Sepulchre, and from the summit of Olivet 
 to have gazed up through the beautiful, blue sky, 
 through which the Lord of Glory ascended to His 
 kingdom ! 
 
 Their passage was already secured to Jaffa, but 
 the protest of the consul was so earnest that the 
 trip was given up. The journey up the Nile was 
 extended to Cairo and the Pyramids. From the 
 summit of old Cheops they had that wondrous 
 view that takes in all Southern Egypt, the great 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. ijg 
 
 Desert of Africa, and the purple walls of the 
 mountains of Arabia, and from which can be traced 
 the course of the Nile, away to the south, lessen- 
 ing as it proceeds, until as a mere silver thread it 
 seems to reach up and take hold of the blue sky. 
 Then they gazed up into the grand and solemn 
 face of the Sphinx, looking out into the desert, and 
 thought of the profound secrets that were locked 
 up in those great stony lips, and questioned him as 
 to his thoughts, but there was neither voice nor 
 answer. 
 
 From Cairo they passed over the land of Goshen, 
 rich with the associations of thirty five hundred 
 years, to the Red Sea, and listened to the dim echoes 
 of the song of Miriam and her band as they re- 
 counted the wonders of the Lord in the deliver- 
 ance of Israel. 
 
 From Egypt their voyage was north and across 
 the Mediterranean to Smyrna, the site of one of 
 the seven churches of Asia, where they climbed 
 to the citadel, taking in the view of the bay of 
 Smyrna, and with bared heads standing by the 
 tomb of Polycarp, the grand old martyr who had 
 sat at the feet of John the Evangelist, as it is still 
 shown just outside the city limits. 
 
 Then the voyage was westward, and up the 
 stormy Adriatic to Trieste and Venice, the queen 
 of the Adriatic, -that wonderful old city that, rising 
 out of the water, seems like a city on some other 
 planet. Here amid the wonders of St. Marks, the 
 Ducal Palace, the Bridge of Sighs, and the Rialto, 
 
140 Memorial. 
 
 the travellers lingered and dreamed and took in in- 
 struction until time would no longer permit the 
 stay. Thence the way led up through Milan and 
 Lake Como, and across the Alps to Switzerland, 
 and up the Rhine valley, to Paris and London, and 
 so on through Scotland and Ireland, and then back 
 to Southampton, where Dr. Dickson took the 
 Havre steamer, Adriatic, for home. On this return 
 voyage he had the opportunity of witnessing God's 
 wonders in the deep, as the voyage was a very 
 stormy one. But the great billows had permission 
 to roll and toss the great ship, yet not to destroy it, 
 and under the beneficent protection of His care he 
 safely reached his home, on the last of September, 
 with a heart full of devout thanksgiving, and great- 
 ly benefitted and refreshed by the tour. 
 
 The influence of Dr. Dickson in Baltimore was 
 very strong, even outside his church and circle of 
 friends. It was his lot to live and labor there in 
 the midst of dark and tempestuous times. For 
 years there was a division in public sentiment in 
 affairs of national concern, and the danger of con- 
 flict and trouble was very great. No one could tell 
 whither this difference would lead or to what ex- 
 tent the great cloud that had gathered over the 
 land and over the church would reach. Perhaps 
 few households were a unit on the all-absorbing 
 question, and there was a greater or less differ- 
 ence of opinion in every branch of the church. 
 Very many persons, in the church and out of it, 
 agreed to differ, and to permit each other to hold 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. 141 
 
 their own opinions in quietness and peace. But 
 withal the times were evil. The danger was immi- 
 nent. The necessity for prudence and good sense, 
 and above all for the fear of God, was very great. 
 
 At such times the position of a minister of 
 Christ preaching the common salvation is a most 
 critical as well as a most important one. In the 
 Westminster church, as in others, there was a di- 
 vision of sentiment. But there was generally 
 quietness and peace. The Session were divided in 
 their opinions on the great questions that were agi- 
 tating the country, but with a prudence and judg- 
 ment worthy of all praise they did not bring these 
 questions into their official relations. They were 
 content as were others to let the minister hold his 
 own views and convictions of duty and to uphold him 
 in his ministerial work. And so the matter passed 
 along, the great storm raging, and the people often 
 full of fears, yet there was comparative peace in 
 the church. Some quietly withdrew to affiliate 
 with churches more in accordance with their own 
 views, and others came in to take their places for 
 the same reason. 
 
 But it was well known where the Westminister 
 Pastor stood on all these questions. He was always 
 faithful to the interests of his country. And, al- 
 though he never put forth his opinions in an offen- 
 sive way, yet he was ever ready to show where his 
 sympathies lay, and how he regarded the principles 
 of truth and righteousness as bearing on the com- 
 mon duty. 
 
142 Memo7'ial. 
 
 And the influence he exerted by his quiet, often- 
 times silent, yet always consistent course was very 
 great in regard to the common peace and common 
 safety. This was true not only in regard to his 
 own church but to the general cause throughout 
 the city. His judgment in the general was respect- 
 ed. His prudence was known of all ; and his un- 
 swerving honesty of opinion made him a tower of 
 strength. And this was all exerted in the interest 
 of right and of truth. And the result was that he 
 assisted very greatly in maintaining the peace and 
 harmony that pertained to this above all other bor- 
 der cities. And when the clouds rolled away, and 
 peace and brotherly love returned once more, there 
 were fewer breaches to be healed and fewer heart- 
 burnings to be quenc' ed than in many other places 
 where the danger that had assailed were no greater 
 than here. The consistent manhood of the man 
 and the prudent self-poise of the minister were 
 prominent, the truth was maintained, the gospel 
 was preached, and in this way God was honored and 
 his name glorified. 
 
 Dr. Dickson was not often sick, yet early in life 
 he had the supposition that his heart was some- 
 what affected by disease, and, from the sudden death 
 of his mother, he long supposed that his own depart- 
 ure would be sudden. Once in 1854 or 5, after 
 several days confinement to his desk, as clerk of 
 Synod, he lost consciousness for a few moments 
 whilst preaching on Sabbath, and quite alarmed his 
 friends. Again in August, 1868, he fainted in the 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. i^j 
 
 pulpit of his church in Baltimore, and was unable 
 to preach for several weeks. This was the only 
 time he was incapacitated for preaching, by sick- 
 ness, during the whole of his pastorate of thirty 
 years. After recovering so far as to be able to 
 travel, he went to Oakland and spent a few weeks, 
 and then with his wife to Wheeling, where they 
 had a most delightful visit. On this occasion he 
 writes thus to his father : 
 
 Baltimore, Sept., 1868. 
 .... My dear people here, and my dear people 
 in Wheeling have manifested so much sympathy 
 with me, and showed so much love and kindness, as 
 to almost overwhelm me ; I cannot tell you the half 
 of it .... It is very pleasant to enjoy the love of 
 both congregations. May I be thankful to God 
 and walk humbly before Him for it." 
 
 On his return to his labor at Baltimore the tender- 
 ness of his people and their words of sympathy and 
 congratulation were a source of great satisfaction to 
 him, their quiet tones as they spoke of his recovery, 
 and their expressions of joy at hearing his voice 
 once more in the sanctuary, more than compensated 
 him for his sickness and weakness. This prolonged 
 indisposition was useful to the pastor himself. Al- 
 though naturally full of sympathy, yet he had so lit- 
 tle experience of the confinement and languor of dis- 
 ease that he could hardly sympathize personally 
 with those who suffered. This new experience gave 
 him a new tenderness at the couch of affliction, and 
 
144 Memorial. 
 
 a new feeling as he knelt down to pray with the 
 suffering and the dying. 
 
 And the work went forward ; sometimes with en- 
 couraging tokens of God's presence in his congrega- 
 tion ; sometimes greatly discouraged because so few 
 came to confess the name of the Lord. Sometimes 
 the people seemed greatly interested ; at other times 
 coldness and languor prevailed until everything was 
 unpromising, and the word of the Lord seemed to 
 be bound. 
 
 His birthday came round once more, his forty- 
 eighth, and, as usual, was observed as a day of re- 
 view, and of renewed consecration to God. As usual 
 he writes to his father, and opens to him his heart, as 
 he recounts the goodness of the Lord, and refers to 
 the solemn thought that he had spent the greater 
 part of his life in the ministry of the Word. The 
 following is the letter : 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 "Baltimore Dec. 20, 1864. 
 My forty-eighth birthday ! 
 
 In looking back I can see but little except sin, 
 
 and short comings, forgetfulness and rebellion on my 
 part, whilst God has most graciously followed me all 
 the days of my life with goodness and mercy. To day 
 I can truly say 'hitherto hath the Lord helped me.' 
 
 I desire to day to consecrate myself anew and 
 entirely to His service and glory who loved me and 
 gave Himself for me. 
 
 More than half my life has been spent in the 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore, i^§ 
 
 ministry of the Gospel. I pray for grace to devote 
 the years which remain to the same work for the 
 same blessed Master." 
 
 But the indications became apparent that efforts 
 would be made that might call for the services of 
 the Westminster pastor elsewhere. In June, 1868, 
 there was a vacancy in the Old School Board of 
 Domestic Missions, through the resignation of Dr. 
 Thomas L. Janeway, and Dr. Dickson was elected 
 to fill that office. The question was considered most 
 earnestly until August, when the work was declined. 
 The Board were not satisfied, and again tendered the 
 appointment, which was again declined. The Board 
 were still urgent in their endeavors to secure his 
 services, as were also its friends. At length, after 
 a season of special prayer with his family for direc- 
 tion. Dr. Dickson felt it his duty to accept, and on 
 the seventeenth day of August telegraphed the 
 Board, signifying his acceptance of the office. On 
 the following Sabbath he announced his acceptance 
 to his congregation, and asked them to call a con- 
 gregational meeting to unite with him in the request 
 to the Presbytery for the dissolution of his pastoral 
 relation. The announcement was most painful to 
 the congregation, and at their meeting they resolved 
 not to accede to that pastor's request. 
 
 The following brief extract from a letter written 
 at the time refers to that Sabbath service. 
 
 " The service was very solemn. Poor father al- 
 most broke down in the prayers and hymns, but by 
 
1^6 Me?norial. 
 
 the time he got to the sermon he was perfectly 
 calm and said just the right thing. He preached 
 first on the great cause, its wants, importance, etc., 
 from Rom. i : i6 and x : 15, and i Cor. 1:21 and 
 IX : 14, just as he often did, and then told his decis- 
 ion, the terrible struggle ; how he had declined 
 four times ; had tried not to go, but finally did not 
 dare to refuse. He told how in every way it was a 
 sacrifice, and gave charges to the officers and mem- 
 bers. It was indeed a Bochim." 
 
 The Presbytery met at Baltimore on the eleventh 
 of September. Just before going to the meeting 
 the family were called together and the divine di- 
 rection sought on the counsels of the Presbytery. 
 Dr. Musgrave was present and pleaded the cause of 
 the Board at great length. The three Commis- 
 sioners from the congregation gave cogent reasons 
 why so useful and happy a pastorate should not be 
 broken up. At a late hour of the night the vote 
 was taken declining to dissolve the relation ; when 
 the work went forward with great success for two 
 years longer. 
 
 But the eventful year 1869 dawned — the year that 
 was to be fraught with such wonderful changes to 
 Dr. Dickson and the entire Presbyterian Church. 
 The two General Assemblies met in New York 
 and arranged terms of reunion, and the two branch- 
 es of the church that had been known for thirty 
 years and more as New and Old School came to- 
 gether at Pittsburgh six months after, and amid 
 general rejoicing and glad Hallelujahs were formally 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. i^y 
 
 made one. The Union was consummated, and the 
 next meeting of the General Assembly appointed 
 at Philadelphia where all the benevolent work of 
 the church was re-organized, and arrangements 
 made to carry forward the work of the Lord with 
 new zeal and efficiency. A thank-offering was called 
 for in view of this auspicious event, and responded 
 to by the whole church with great liberality and 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 At this meeting, on the nineteenth of May, 1870, 
 Dr. Dickson was elected Permanant Clerk of the 
 General Assembly, an office he held, and the duties 
 of which he fulfilled to the entire satisfaction of 
 the church, as long as his health permitted him to 
 attend its meetings. 
 
 Growing out of this re-union and the reorganiza- 
 tion of the benevolent work, that of home missions 
 assumed a prominent place. Each branch of the 
 church had its Board, or Committee, covering sub- 
 stantially the same field, yet working without fric- 
 tion or interference. The Old School board had 
 been known as the Board of Domestic Missions ; 
 the New School, the Committee of Home Mis- 
 sions. At the meeting of the General Assembly 
 at Philadelphia, on the thirty-first day of May, 
 these boards were consolidated under the name 
 of the Board of Home Missions, and, on the 
 third day of June, Rev. Henry Kendall, D. D. and 
 Dr. Dickson were elected Corresponding Secre- 
 taries. Dr. Kendall had been the Corresponding 
 Secretary of the Committee of Home Missions, 
 
148 Memorial. 
 
 Dr. Musgrave had been secretary of the Board of 
 Domestic Missions, but, on account of age and de- 
 clining strength, prefering to retire to private life, 
 Dr. Dickson was elected as the other Secretary. 
 
 The call on Dr. Dickson for this new and impor- 
 tant service was made a matter of thoughtful and 
 prayerful attention. It seemed the call of God ; 
 the unanimity of the Assembly in his election ; the 
 satisfaction expressed by his brethren, and the 
 church at large, all conspired to make the way 
 plain and, soon after, the preliminary steps were 
 taken for the dissolution of his pastoral relation. 
 Accordingly at a meeting of the Presbytery of Bal- 
 timore on the first day of July the formal request 
 was made to this end. The following paper that 
 had been adopted at a previous meeting, expressive 
 of the feeling of the congregation on the subject, 
 was then presented to the Presbytery, through their 
 Commissioner : 
 
 "Whereas our Pastor, Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D., 
 has been called by the General Assembly of the 
 reunited Church, to the office of Secretary of the 
 Board of Home Missions : 
 
 And Whereas Dr. Dickson has expressed the 
 conviction that the leadings of Providence appear 
 to require him to make the personal sacrifice in-' 
 volved in his accepting this office : therefore. 
 
 Resolved : — That we, the Congregation of the 
 Westminster Presbyterian Church, unite with Dr. 
 Dickson, in requesting Presbytery to release him 
 from his pastoral charge. 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. i^g 
 
 In adopting this resolution, however, we can- 
 not refrain from expressing our sincere regret, that 
 a pastoral relation which has so long, and so hap- 
 pily existed, and which has been attended with so 
 many tokens of the Divine favor, should now be 
 dissolved. And we embrace this occasion to bear 
 testimony to the fidelity of our pastor — both to the 
 Great Head of the Church and to the souls com- 
 mitted to his charge. 
 
 Alike in the pulpit, in the Session, and in the 
 Congregation ; in devising and executing new plans 
 of usefulness, in cultivating the graces of his flock, 
 in visiting the sick, and in counselling and comfort- 
 ing the distressed ; we have found him *'a work- 
 man, that needeth not to be ashamed" — "a man ap- 
 proved of God." 
 
 *'If his fidelity to this congregation has suggested 
 to the General Assembly the propriety of calling 
 him to a more extended field of labor, we bow to 
 the dispensation and follow him with our prayers." 
 
 The request of the Pastor was then granted, the 
 pastoral relation dissolved, and the following paper 
 adopted as the expression of the feeling of the 
 Presbytery on the occasion : 
 
 " In complying with the request to dissolve the 
 pastoral relation between the Rev. Cyrus Dickson, 
 D. D., and the Westminster Church, the Presbytery 
 would express sincere sympathy with the congrega- 
 tion thus deprived of an acceptable and valuable 
 pastor, endeared to it by a most affectionate, faith- 
 ful and zealous ministry of fourteen years. 
 
1^0 MemoriaL 
 
 The Presbytery consents to this dissolution be- 
 cause the appointment to another position, which 
 calls for it, has been made under peculiar circum- 
 stances, by the General Assembly, the highest Judi- 
 catory of our Church — which has, if not absolute 
 authority in the matter, yet the strongest claim on 
 the services of her ministers. And also because 
 Dr. Dickson has expressed his personal conviction, 
 that this is a call in Providence, which he is not 
 disposed to decline, if the Presbytery will permit 
 him to accept it. 
 
 In giving this consent, the Presbstery would ex- 
 press their deep regret at parting with a brother 
 who has, during his connection with this body, 
 rendered himself so agreeable in his social re- 
 lations, so valuable as an efficient and successful 
 pastor, so useful as a Presbyter and so important 
 as a fellow laborer in this community. " 
 
 He preached to his people the following Sabbath, 
 and placed in the pews that day the following fare- 
 well letter : 
 
 **To the Westminster Presbyterian Congregation, 
 Baltimore : 
 
 MY DEAR PEOPLE I 
 
 In the providence of God the long and tender 
 relation of Pastor and People is dissolved. It has 
 continued through nearly fourteen years, ten of 
 which have been years of vast excitement and con- 
 vulsion in the land, the Church, and the world. 
 Yet *'by the good hand of our God upon us " we 
 
Pastoral Life at Baltimore. i§i 
 
 'have been enabled to live in peace and harmony, 
 and, considering all the circumstances, in great 
 prosperity. Let us unite in mutual thanksgiving 
 for all these mercies. 
 
 Nothing but such a call as this from the whole 
 Church, cordially and unanimously given, would 
 induce me to leave a congregation and field en- 
 deared by so many toils and trials, to change my 
 home and way of life. As, therefore, our separa- 
 tion has arisen from no dissatisfaction but from the 
 voice of the Master, you will allow a 'few parting 
 words of counsel and comfort. 
 
 Now you will at once need another Pastor. Pas- 
 tors are among the Ascension gifts of our exalted 
 Redeemer. Seek then for a Pastor especially by 
 earnest, believing prayer. **Ask and ye shall re- 
 ceive. " ** Seek, and ye shall find. " If He has 
 bereaved you, you may confidently plead with Him 
 for another. 
 
 In order to secure a pastor keep together, be of 
 one mind, forbearing one another in love. Be punc- 
 tual in all your attendance on weekly and Sabbath 
 services. Maintain the schools which have always 
 been our ornaments. Thus you will invite and 
 encourage the coming of some true, living, faithful 
 man to be your Pastor. 
 
 Regard yourselves as especially called upon to be 
 faithful in secret with God, and in your families, 
 and in the congregation. Uphold your Elders and 
 Deacons and Trustees in their several places and 
 labors. In sickness and sorrow invite them to 
 
J ^2 Memorial. 
 
 visit and pray with you. You can very manifestly 
 honor religion and the Saviour by maintaining your 
 faithfulness to His cause whilst destitute of a min- 
 ister. 
 
 When a Pastor is found, and called, and settled 
 be kind to him, stand by him, and stand up for him, 
 and around him. Support him liberally ; let him 
 feel that it is not from constraint, but freely and 
 for Christ's sake. Attend constantly and prayer- 
 fully on his ministry and strive to bring multitudes 
 with you. Empty pews have a sad influence on 
 the health, the heart, and the usefulness of a Pastor. 
 
 With precious memories of the past and with 
 great anxieties and hopes for the future, I com- 
 mend you to him who purchased the Church with 
 Plis own blood, and who is able to keep and com- 
 fort you and to supply all your need — ^who walks 
 amidst the golden candlesticks, who holds the stars 
 in His right hand. 
 
 May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the 
 love of God, and the communion of the Holy 
 Ghost be multiplied to you all. Amen ! 
 
 I am most truly and affectionately your late pas- 
 tor and ever true friend. 
 
 Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 Baltimore, Md., Saturday, July 2, 1870. 
 
 This was the close of a ministry of fourteen years, 
 during which this earnest Pastor had stood in his 
 lot and tried to do the work of an Evangelist, as 
 God gave him strength. His reflections were sol- 
 
Pastoral Life at Balthnore, /jj 
 
 emn and his thoughts subdued as he thought of the 
 past. There had been the times of gracious revival 
 and there had been the times of declension, when 
 the way seemed almost blocked up before him : there 
 had been the time of the singing of birds, and there 
 had been the winter with its storms. But all these 
 seasons had been accompanied with the feeling in 
 his deepest soul that the Lord was with him, and that 
 what prosperity the church had enjoyed was from 
 the presence and help of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 And as he passed out from the door of the church 
 on his way homewards there was the feeling that 
 he was leaving a field of great privilege and useful- 
 ness, yet the reflection came to his mind that he had 
 looked to the Lord to direct him in all his official 
 life and could depend on Him now when just about 
 embarking in this new field. And thus closing the 
 labors of his third and last pastorate he tried to lean 
 on the strong arm of God and began to gird himself 
 for the new work in New York. 
 
 Besides his general work in his own congregation^ 
 Dr. Dickson was an active and busy man in the 
 general welfare of the church and community. He 
 was often called on to speak in behalf of the public 
 Charities ; and churches of other denominations 
 would sometimes invite him to speak in their Mis- 
 sionary meetings, when they wished a special im- 
 pression to be made. During the war he was 
 connected actively with the Christian Commission, 
 and visited the Field Hospitals after the battles 
 of Antietam and Gettysburgh, ministering to the 
 
154 Memorial. 
 
 wounded and the dying of both armies, the Blue 
 and the Gray. He was Vice-President of the Mary- 
 land Union Commission, in whose behalf he visited 
 Richmond in April, 1865, and spoke in its behalf at 
 the great Union meeting in Baltimore, a few weeks 
 afterward. He was for several years Secretary of 
 the Maryland Inebriate Asylum, and a member of 
 the Executive Committee of the ''Baltimore Associa- 
 tion for the Moral and Educational improvement of 
 the colored people." He was also a member of the 
 Board of trustees of the College of New Jersey from 
 i860 until his death. He likewise acted as a mem- 
 ber of the Re-construction Committee of the Old 
 School church in 1870. 
 
 With all these cares and burdens, he always strove 
 to do his work well, and ''studied to show himself 
 approved unto God, a workman that needed not to 
 be ashamed." And how he succeeded is written in 
 the memories of his friends, in the success of the 
 work in which he was engaged, and in the general 
 advancement of the cause of truth and righteous- 
 ness. 
 
VII. THE SECRETARY. 
 
 ^^The sands are mimberd that make tip my life. 
 Here must I stay ^ and here my life mnst end'' 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 "/ must work the works of him that sent 7ne^ while 
 it is day : the night conieth when no man can work'' 
 
 John ix. 4. 
 
VII. THE SECRETARY. 
 
 The pastoral work was now intermitted and a 
 new field was to be entered. But there was no time 
 for rest. This never entered into the calculations of 
 this restless laborer in the Lord's vineyard. The 
 family could not be broken up at once ; the home 
 must be arranged and the household prepared for 
 the change. This would require weeks for its ac- 
 complishment. But there was no time for delay on 
 the part of the newly appointed Secretary ; he must 
 go forward at once and take up the business to which 
 the church had called him. So without delay he 
 went on to New York, leaving his family to follow 
 when the necessary arrangements should have been 
 made. He was released from his pastoral charge 
 on the first day of July, and on the following Wed- 
 nesday was in the Missionary Office in Vesey Street, 
 girded for the work. 
 
 The family did not go on until the Autumn, but 
 many Sabbaths were spent with them in the mean 
 time. Dr. Dickson frequently went home to supply 
 Westminster Church, during the time of its vacancy, 
 and administered the Lord's supper at the usual 
 time, which occasion was the last when the whole 
 family were together in the solemn service. 
 
1^8 Memorial. 
 
 The office at Number Thirty Vesey St., New 
 York, soon became the scene of busy preparation. 
 There was much new work to be performed. The 
 affairs of the two Societies must be brought to- 
 gether and harmonized. Dr. Kendall had been in 
 the work so long that he had become familiar with 
 its details and went forward with it as in years 
 past. But to Dr. Dickson the work, as to detail, 
 was entirely new, and it was not possible but that 
 he would become nervous and chafe under the cir- 
 cumstances, until he should have sufficient time to 
 learn its methods and become accustomed to its 
 routine. But he did not know what it was to sit 
 down and become discouraged in the midst of 
 anything he undertook. He had undertaken this 
 work in good faith, and, relying on the help of the 
 Lord, he was resolved to master all its details, and 
 be equal to all that pertained to his official position. 
 In a little time the seemingly tangled web began 
 to unravel. The two Secretaries worked together, 
 and were mutually helpers to each other. The 
 strong, vigorous hand of Dr. Kendall was equal to 
 the portion of the work pertaining to him, and his 
 long familiarity with the business of the office 
 made it comparatively easy for him ; and soon his 
 co-ordinate in the office could take in and manage 
 the work pertaining to him. 
 
 For this work he had very many natural qualifi- 
 cations. He had a quick and accurate judgment : 
 he had a wondrous sympathy for his brethren of 
 the ministry ; he had knowledge of the wants of 
 
The Secretary. i^g 
 
 the great West : he could generalize and take in 
 and grasp all subjects connected with the work. 
 He had been taking lessons all unconsciously to 
 himself as he labored amid the hills and rocks of 
 Western Pennsylvania. As he had sat down in the 
 log cabins and at the humble boards of his people 
 during his first settlement and talked with them and 
 prayed with them, he was learning the lesson that 
 would enable him to sympathize with the people of 
 God away out on the frontier. He had a knowledge 
 of the wants of the Missionaries from frequent asso- 
 ciation with them, and an unusual grasp of the 
 magnitude and importance of the field. He had 
 had his first look at the great field thirty-five years 
 before, when as a boy-student he had traveled on 
 horseback from Lake Erie to the Mississippi River. 
 And since that time he had been making pilgrimages 
 over different portions of the same territory, mak- 
 ing observations in regard to its wants and with his 
 own keen, quick eye forming his conclusions in re- 
 gard to the country and the important' points to be 
 occupied and made strong in order to the general 
 good. 
 
 And now, with the map of the United States be- 
 fore him, and the Minutes of the General Assembly, 
 and the list of the missionaries enrolled, in his 
 hands, he began to grow familiar with the names 
 and locations of churches, their relative strength, 
 their accessibility as to the great lines of travel, and 
 the probable significance of their future history. 
 He became familiar with the names of the Mission- 
 
i6o Memorial. 
 
 aries so as to be able to locate nearly every one in 
 his own particular field, as soon as his name was 
 brought up. He made himself acquainted with the 
 portions of the country that were settling up most 
 rapidly and the locations that would be most import- 
 ant in the future, and kept these always in his mind 
 for his future guidance. His judgment was sound, 
 and in all these matters there was an eye to the 
 general result. 
 
 And as he looked over the map and remembered 
 that the great States of Kansas and Nebraska, with 
 portions of Colorado and Indian Territory, with their 
 teeming population, were located on what was called 
 the Great American Desert in his school boy days, 
 and then glanced over the new region of the South, 
 New Mexico and Arizona, and then at the north, 
 and across the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific, from 
 California to Washington, visions of the future great- 
 ness of the country's coming history would burst 
 upon his mind, and he would feel his spirit stirred 
 within him with a most intense desire that this 
 whole country should be kept within the sphere of 
 Gospel influences, and that all the institutions of 
 the church should keep equal pace with the settle- 
 ment of the new territory. The feeling was strong 
 within him that the institutions of the Gospel were 
 absolutely necessary in order to the peace and pros- 
 perity and safety of the whole. He would compare 
 the future with the past and imagine what the extent 
 of the population would be in the course of another 
 half century ; he would think of the sons and 
 
The Secretary. j(,j 
 
 daughters of the churches in th7^^I7^;^W^;7th^ 
 new country ; he would regard the incoming tide 
 from all the countries of Europe, with the numbers 
 from eastern Asia, and would be almost appalled 
 with the greatness of the work and the intricacy of 
 the problem that was to be solved in regard to the 
 final destiny of the Union. And when he felt, as 
 did others, that the only ground of safety for the 
 country's future was the spread of the Gospel of 
 Jesus Christ, the importance of the matter of estab- 
 lishing missionary work everywhere, throughout all 
 this broad land, seemed most imperative 
 
 When his mind had thus become fully saturated 
 with the greatness and grandeur of the subject he 
 resolved to take another step ; this was to visit as 
 much of the territory as possible and see personally 
 as many of the Missionaries as could be conveniently 
 reached. He wished not only to see individual 
 churches, hut their prospective bearing on the gen- 
 eral work ; their influence in the present and on the 
 future ; their location as regards the great lines of 
 travel ; their connection with the probable growth 
 of the population, and their influence as centres of 
 power. He wished also to inform himself of the 
 Country's growth and progress, and ascertain just 
 ni what Imes this growth and progress were advanc- 
 ing, and to try and forecast its probable growth and 
 progress in the future. 
 
 For this purpose he made long journeys over the 
 western field, and looked over the prospect for com- 
 ing work and coming progress. While combinin<r 
 
i62 Memorial. 
 
 these tours in the general with visits to the great 
 meetings of the church in her judicatories, particu- 
 larly in the Presbyteries and Synods, he yet made 
 this matter prominent in his own mind, to see for 
 himself and to know from his own observation just 
 what the country was, and just what its probable 
 prospects were, and in this way to form an intelligent 
 judgment as to its wants. This he deemed import- 
 ant in order to a full understanding of the work he 
 had undertaken. At the same time the other de- 
 tails of business were kept before his mind, until 
 the work was well in hand, and an arrangement 
 made between the two Secretaries as to the proper 
 division of the interest and labor. 
 
 Accordingly an extensive trip was projected in 
 1871. This plan was carried out with a minuteness 
 of detail that enabled him to see the work in its 
 outposts, and to come in contact with a large num- 
 ber of its missionaries. After deciding on his line 
 of travel, and arranging as far as possible his time- 
 table, he notified as many of the missionaries as 
 could conveniently make the arrangement to meet 
 him at their nearest point of approach. A personal 
 meeting of half an hour, or even of a few minutes 
 was a satisfaction to both parties. It was like 
 bringing the poles of the battery together, and thus 
 establishing the connection between the office in 
 Vesey Street, New York, and the fields of labor all 
 over the country. It did the Secretary good to 
 look upon the face of the missionary, and was re- 
 freshing to the missionary to see one so nearly re- 
 
The Secretary. .^ 
 
 lated to the Home Office, and tol^^^T^^^i^^T^TZ;,: 
 age and cheer from his lips. 
 
 This tour embraced in its interests Colorado and 
 
 Utah, and on to California by Rail, and stopping at 
 
 mtermediate points. Then from San Francisco, over- 
 
 and by stage, five hundred miles to Oregon and 
 
 Washmgton Territory. From Portland, OreCn 
 
 AndT All:: ''b'rr° ^''^-'' '°""'' ^"^ Victoria.' 
 And If Alaska had been accessible, his adventur 
 
 ous spmt would have induced him to press on u„-" 
 
 t.l he had thoroughly explored it with its wondrous 
 
 bays and rivers and sources of wealth, and satisfied 
 
 his own judgment in regard to its future importance 
 
 The return trip was more rapid, yet everything was 
 
 the beS ""'' f °" "^'^' °" ^he great fielS and 
 the best means of occupying and cultivating it 
 
 wJs'' tS/'" •'' r™'^ "'^ "^^^ *° ^he North 
 
 sTn and M T "^'- ^''''''■'^^' ^°™' ^iscon- 
 
 s n, and Minnesota were explored, traveling from 
 
 place to place, where possible meetings of Presbytery 
 
 or Synod might bring him in contact with the mo e 
 
 or wrl'"'°" "'* "'^°'" '^^ ^°"'d ^^ke counsel, 
 or with the missionaries, talking with them, advis- 
 
 .ng and cheering them in their work, and en;ourag- 
 
 ing them by assuring them of the sympathy of the 
 
 entire church, the deep interest felt by the Board 
 
 in the success of the work, and of the'imporln e 
 
 wav tL tr ? "'r' ''^^ ^''^ ^"^^«-d- I- this 
 way the Secretary became acquainted with the field, 
 
 earned the views of those prominent in carryin.^ 
 
 forward its labors, and made himself understood b^ 
 
164 Memorial. 
 
 those with whom he had else come in contact only 
 by means of correspondence. 
 
 In the early spring of 1872 a trip was made to 
 Texas, and the entire month of March was spent in 
 that State, examining into its wants and prospects, 
 noting the progress of its settlement, and seeking 
 carefully concerning the duty of the Board as to 
 making it a field of labor. This was undertaken 
 in no spirit of aggression save as against the com- 
 mon foe of all Christianity. It was not with the 
 desire to encroach on the domain of any other 
 branch of the Church, but simply to take in the 
 situation, and learn the character of the field and 
 its claims on the Board whose servant he was. And 
 in this tour he found everywhere a most cordial re- 
 ception. He was amazed at the prospect that was 
 opening in this extended State, so rich in all the 
 elements of wealth, and so well adapted to sustain 
 a dense population and to furnish the means of life 
 to other parts of the world. 
 
 In addition to this his far reaching vision was 
 not without its view of coming events, or prospect- 
 ive unity, and the consolidation of the different 
 branches of the Presbyterian church, and the 
 movement in solid Phalanx of this and other 
 branches of the Church in the all-important matter 
 of winning and keeping this whole great country 
 for Christ. 
 
 Other journeys were undertaken of an extended 
 kind until the whole country came under his person- 
 al observation and he became familiar with its 
 
The Secretary, i6^ 
 
 wants and had a minute knowledge of its possibili- 
 ties. Then from his office he had the whole subject 
 before him and could see at once the state of the 
 case when appeals were made for aid in any portion 
 of the field. Dr. Kendall had had something of the 
 same experience in other years, and the two, labor- 
 ing in concert, and availing themselves of their 
 personal experience and observation, were able to 
 form a very intelligent opinion in regard to the 
 necessities of particular fields. 
 
 Another plan of work was to visit the Synods at 
 their annual meetings. He would take the Minutes 
 of the General Assembly and ascertain the times of 
 these meetings, and then arrange his time table, so 
 as to be present for at least twenty-four hours at as 
 many of these meetings as possible, during a given 
 time. He did not expect to be present during the 
 entire meeting, and spend his time socially with the 
 brethren, but simply to obtain a hearing and then go 
 forward to some other meeting. The work always 
 seemed to be urgent and the time limited, and as 
 much work was to be accomplished as possible ere 
 he returned to the office. 
 
 . His presence at these Synodical meetings was 
 always hailed with joy. His discourses were listen- 
 ed to with interest, and the result was always to 
 quicken the interest, and to encourage the hearts of 
 ministers and elders in the work. His aim was al- 
 ways to deepen the convictions of the church, 
 through its officers, as to the greatness and import- 
 ance of the work of the Board, the importance of 
 
i66 Memorial. 
 
 pressing it forward, and to encourage it in its efforts 
 in carrying forward its vast and responsible mission. 
 
 But it was at meetings of the General Assembly 
 in annual Session that his great work of contact 
 with the church was performed. At these great 
 convocations of Ministers and Elders, representa- 
 tive men from all portions of the church, represent- 
 ing it from ocean to ocean and from the lakes to the 
 extreme South, the impression was made that was 
 to be felt throughout all its bounds, and a stimulus 
 received that was to be a power and an influence 
 throughout all its membership. No one who was 
 present at any of these occasions can ever forget 
 those electrifying addresses on the Home Mission 
 work. They were recognized for years as the great 
 feature of the Assembly, and, during Dr. Dickson's 
 term of office, were looked forward to as one of the 
 great attractions of the occasion. At the delivery 
 of these addresses the house always filled up, not 
 only with the full force of the Assembly but with 
 others from the outside, who were not generally in- 
 terested ; and there would be profound attention 
 from the beginning to the close. 
 
 With all this incessant labor, and these long jour- 
 neys, it is due to the memory of Dr. Dickson to re- 
 cord that nothing was ever drawn from the treasury 
 of the Board to defray the expenses of these long 
 tours through the west. In addition to this he was 
 always extremely liberal in his own personal contri- 
 butions to the cause, and during two years of his 
 service he returned one thousand dollars each year to 
 
The Secretary. i6y 
 
 the Treasury of the Board, from his own salary. 
 He was extremely conscientious in regard to his 
 time, and also in regard to the expenditure of the 
 money of the church. It was to him a sacred trust, 
 and his influence upon the Board and its determina- 
 tions was always on the side of economy and the 
 most careful scrutiny. And the office He had re- 
 ceived at the hand of the church he regarded as a 
 most sacred trust. His time, his best thoughts, the 
 energies of his mind and of his body alike must all 
 be given to the proper discharge of its functions. 
 In the same manner he considered the funds of the 
 church as sacred — the contributions of the poor, 
 the widow, the children — it was the Lord's money 
 and must be used carefully as His, and for His glo- 
 ry. At the same time he was not parsimonious in 
 the use of the funds in the right direction. Where 
 the best interests of the cause were concerned he 
 was always disposed in his advice and in his recom- 
 mendations to a wise liberality, that would in time 
 bring in ten fold to the general treasury. 
 
 The first appearance of the New Secretary before 
 the General Assembly was at Chicago, in 1871. 
 He had thoroughly mastered the details of the office ; 
 he had studied the field and had taken in something 
 of its greatness and importance, and was deeply im- 
 pressed with the magnitude of the interests com- 
 mitted to the General Assembly. His great soul 
 was filled to the utmost with the subject ; and every 
 feature of his countenance, as he took his place on 
 the platform, betokened his interest in the theme. 
 
1 68 Memorial. 
 
 Formerly the matter of Home Missions had been 
 regarded as important ; the field was a large one, 
 and *a respectable degree of attention had been ac- 
 corded it. But its presentation had been cumbered 
 with dry statistics. The fact was set forth that 
 many places were destitute; that many churches 
 were weak and struggling ; and that there were 
 many hardships connected with the Missionary's 
 work in the West. The General Assembly had 
 listened in other years with a pious kind of interest ; 
 had voted on the usual resolutions, and the subject 
 was dismissed. No one expected to be interested, 
 much less greatly stirred up to new thoughts and 
 purposes. But on this occasion it was very soon 
 evident that a new grasp was on the helm, and that 
 a new vigor was to be imparted to the work. 
 
 There was no half apology made for occupying 
 the time of the Assembly. There were no dull plati- 
 tudes about the great field. The new Secretary 
 plunged at once into the subject and under his 
 vigorous handling it assumed a magnitude and im- 
 portance such as had not been connected with it 
 before. It became instinct with life, and throbbing 
 with importance. It stood confessedly one of the 
 greatest of the enterprises of the age. 
 
 The long western tour of 1871 filled his whole 
 soul to the full with the thought of the coming great- 
 ness of the country, and the importance of the work 
 of the Board. In October of that year he met with 
 the Synod of Erie, at Franklin, Pennsylvania. It 
 was a large meeting. It was in the midst of the 
 
The Secretary. i6g 
 
 brethren of his youth ; in the Presbytery where he 
 had been Hcensed ; and in the very church where 
 he had been ordained and where the first years of 
 his ministry had been passed. All were anxious to 
 hear him. The spacious church was more than 
 half filled by the brethren of the Synod, and the re- 
 maining portion, and the galleries were occupied by 
 the citizens. 
 
 The discourse commenced. The Secretary's mind 
 was filled with the grandeur of the West ; he had 
 looked upon the majesty of its great Sierras ; its 
 immense plains, its fruitful soil, and its exhaustless 
 mines. He had in his mind cities that were spring- 
 ing up, almost like Jonah's gourd, in a night, and 
 the wonderful population that was moving, like a 
 great wave of the ocean, ceaselessly and tumultuous- 
 ly westward, filling up its territory, laying the found- 
 ations of great States, and preparing to exert an 
 influence that should greatly assist in forming and 
 making beautiful this great country ; or of marring 
 and deforming it, and sowing the seeds of decay 
 and ruin throughout all its borders. And to his eye 
 the Gospel was the only element that could leaven, 
 and purify, and save this seething, surging tide of 
 humanity. And with glowing cheek and flashing 
 eye and animated form he described what he had 
 seen ; the mighty barriers of the Rocky Mountains, 
 powerless to restrain the westward march of empire 
 as the problematic damming up of the Nile with 
 bullrushes would be to stop its resistless waters ; 
 the golden hills of California; the magnificent 
 
17^ Memorial. 
 
 domes of the Yosemite, and the big trees of the 
 Calaveras — exclaiming : "Mr. Moderator ; the clerks 
 "at the desk went away across the Ocean, and to 
 **the uttermost end of the Great Sea, to look at the 
 "Cedars of Lebanon, when we have in California 
 "the great Redwoods that were mighty giants of 
 "the forests, when the Cedars of Lebanon were in 
 ''their infancy !" ; and having detailed the capabili- 
 ties of all the lands on the Pacific slope from 
 the Mexican border to the British line) he said : 
 "All over this vast sweep of territory I found the 
 ''sons and daughters of our own home churches. 
 "Western Pennsylvanians were everywhere, whose 
 "fathers and mothers had been born on your soil 
 "and nurtured on the strong Gospel teaching of 
 "M'Millan, and M'Curdy, and Johnston and Tait, 
 "and they were hungering for the same Gospel that 
 "had been the hope and joy and trust of their par- 
 "ents. They were trying to keep the Sabbath, as 
 "it is kept in Western Pennsylvania, a place where it 
 "is observed better than in any place on the face of 
 "the earth ; but they must have the church, the 
 "ministry, and the Sabbath School, or go back to 
 "heathenism and barbarism, and be lost forever ! 
 
 "Mr. Moderator ; and fathers, and brethren ; go 
 "home and wake up your churches to the import- 
 "ance of this great work ! Tell them in the name 
 "of the God of your fathers ; in the name of the 
 "Church he has purchased with the blood of His 
 "own Son ; in the name of your common country 
 "and its coming glory, if they will but do their duty, 
 
The Secretary. lyi 
 
 *'to send the Gospel throughout all this broad land, 
 ''and then pray for its success !" 
 
 The Secretary seemed to have had a clearer vis- 
 ion of the coming greatness and importance of this 
 land than most persons even engaged in its special 
 study. He had studied the map of its territory 
 most profoundly. He had thought over it, and 
 dreamed over it, and studied its resources and capa- 
 bilities untij_a most beautiful picture was formed in 
 his mind, j He saw the mighty tide of its coming 
 population moving westward, surging over the 
 Rocky Mountains, spreading itself over the region 
 northward and southward, cultivating its soil, ex- 
 ploring its mines, bringing to light its precious 
 metals, and becoming the greatest nation in all the 
 world's history. And with all this before him he 
 saw the necessity of the Gospel of Christ as the 
 only power that could mould and fashion this great 
 country into symmetry and harmony and prepare 
 it for God and His service. And to this end he 
 would have the Gospel sent to every new neighbor- 
 hood as soon as it was established. He would have 
 the Sabbath, the Church and the Sabbath School, 
 and God's service as the governing influence in the 
 establishment of the country. 
 
 He loved his country most profoundly. All her 
 interests were dear to him. He placed her flag but 
 just below the banner of the cross, and spoke her 
 praises next to those of the kingdom of Immanuel. 
 Her interests were next to those of Zion, and for 
 her he prayed in close connection with the Church 
 
1^2 Memorial. 
 
 of Christ. And with an untiring zeal he labored 
 for the spread of the Gospel and the success of 
 Christianity in- this land, as lying very near the in- 
 terests of the spread of the Gospel in all lands, and 
 throughout the wide world. 
 
 In 1873 the General Assembly met at Baltimore. 
 Again he was at his home and surrounded by famil- 
 iar scenes. When the time came for the Secretary 
 to speak he was wearied and jaded by his duties as 
 Permanent Clerk and by the tedious session of the 
 Assembly. He roused himself however for the work 
 and very soon seemed to be free from fatigue, as he 
 declared that : ''This work of Domestic Missions 
 "lies at the very foundation of God's work in this 
 ''land and in all lands. Mr. Moderator, I have the 
 "most profound conviction in every fiber of my body 
 "and in every faculty of my mind that the salvation 
 "of the world depends, under God, on this land of 
 "ours, and that the salvation of this land depends 
 "on this work which we call Home Missions — that is, 
 "the evangelization of this great land of ours ! I know 
 "that this land seems small when compared with 
 "the islands and continents of the earth, and that 
 "this population of ours seems small when compar- 
 "ed with the millions of the earth's inhabitants. 
 "But we remember that there was a time when the 
 "spiritual interests of this great world seemed to 
 "depend on a little region of country over which 
 "one could walk between Sabbaths ; and that in the 
 "plans and purposes of God this little land was of 
 "more importance than Assyria, or Macedonia, or 
 
The Secretary. lyj 
 
 ^'Greece, or Rome. And all this because that near 
 "to Jerusalem there was a little hamlet called Beth- 
 "lehem, the House of Bread, where God's own Son 
 *'was to be born of a woman. And close by Jerusa- 
 "lem, just outside the gate, was the Place of the 
 "Skull, where the Son of God must be lifted up up- 
 "on the cross. And to-day, our land, so rapidly de- 
 "veloping, has become the Bethlehem of the race, 
 "and the Calvary where the cross must be elevated, 
 "and Christ proclaimed to all the nation^. This 
 "land has become so powerful through its commerce 
 "and institutions that, under God, it promises more 
 "for the evangelization of the world than all other 
 "lands in Christendom. 
 
 "As to the power of the Gospel in moving the 
 "hearts and moulding the habits of men, let me 
 "quote this incident: In 1812 Gen. Jackson, whilst 
 "engaged with the Indian wars, found himself be- 
 "leaguered in a horseshoe of the Tallapoosa River, 
 "and in danger of starvation. He sent Dr. Nelson, 
 "then an Infidel, under guidance of a Cherokee boy, 
 "to seek help in the mountains of Tennessee. On 
 "their way they passed a place where there was 
 "every indication of peace. An Indian was at work, 
 "and his wife was hanging out clothes to dry, and 
 "both singing. Dr. Nelson asked the Indian guide 
 "v/hat the man was singing. He replied : some- 
 "thing about some one hanging on a tree. It was 
 "the grand, immortal Hymn of Watts : "Alas and 
 "did my Saviour bleed." And then the infidel saw 
 "what the Gospel could do. It Vv^as the crucified 
 
174 Memorial. 
 
 ^'Christ that had turned the savage into a civilized 
 **man, had built the cabin and the fence, and had 
 "planted the corn, and given the man the songs of 
 ^'salvation and eternal life. And all over this land 
 **there are men just as savage as was that Cherokee, 
 "and you can only put the songs of salvation into 
 "their mouths by teaching them the Gospel. 
 
 "And then the tide of immigration must be met 
 "by this same Gospel. Last week a steamer came 
 "in at Sandy Hook with thirteen hundred and fifty 
 "passengers : and the other day a thousand Chinese 
 "landed at San Francisco. All these must be met 
 "and evangelized or we are swamped in the great 
 "sea. The Gospel must be proclaimed to them in 
 "their own tongues, as on the day of Pentecost. 
 "And we must have men to preach the Gospel out 
 "on the frontier who can take in the situation, and 
 "come down to the circumstances of men far out 
 "from the refining influences of the older settle- 
 "ments. Out there you will find men who will call 
 "out to the preacher in the middle of his sermon : 
 "Say Boss, how is this ere ; that pint isn't clear, you 
 "must explore it, Boss." 
 
 "And now shall not this great Assembly, the type 
 "of the Assembly that is to come, arise and with 
 "one heart pour into the ear of the covenant keep- 
 "ing God the prayer : Send Thy Spirit down and 
 "keep the work alive, and in wrath remember 
 "mercy ! " 
 
 Such are some of the dim echoes of the voice of 
 the great Secretary that filled the ears of the Gen- 
 
The Secretary. lyS 
 
 eral Assembly as with the blast of a trumpet and 
 moved their hearts as the trees of the forest are 
 moved when the mighty storm sweeps over them 
 in its wrath. These addresses will be remembered 
 until the present generation of ministers and elders 
 has passed away, and their influence will be felt 
 throughout the ages to come. They gave an im- 
 petus to this work of Home Missions that is felt to- 
 day throughout the entire church, and throb^/tn 
 every nerve and every fiber of the Christian heart. 
 In this department of labor he doubtless performed 
 his greatest work for the church and for the com- 
 mon cause of Christianity, and in it reached the 
 beautiful culmination of a life useful and valuable 
 beyond the privilege of most persons, for God and 
 His people. 
 
 In the year 1877 the great Pan Presbyterian Coun- 
 cil was held at Edinburgh. Dr. Dickson was one 
 of the Delegates, and embarked on the Egypt on 
 the sixteenth of June. 
 
 He never enjoyed the ocean very much, yet he 
 wished for rest, and in the companionship of 
 his friends the time passed pleasantly until the 
 green hills of Ireland began to appear and the voy- 
 age was ended. This was on the twenty sixth. 
 Ffom Queenstown the way led up through Dublin 
 and Belfast through the finely cultivated fields of 
 the Emerald Isle, with their rich associations of 
 daring and suffering, and then across the sea to the 
 Clyde and Glasgow, and on up through the wonder- 
 fully beautiful Lakes of the North and the Trossachs 
 
iy6 Memorial. 
 
 to Sterling Castle and Bannock Burn to Edinburgh, 
 which was reached on the thirtieth. Here the 
 Great Council was to assemble, and Presbyterianism 
 was to stand forth as one of the distinguished 
 branches of the Church, and a witness for the truth 
 in all portions of the world. 
 
 It was a grand occasion. Grand historical men 
 had assembled, who had borne witness for the truth 
 in Christian and in heathen lands. They had 
 crossed the ocean; they had passed over the burn- 
 ing sands of the desert ; they had left their work 
 for a little time to meet together in this solemn 
 convocation and look in each other's faces, and hear 
 each other's voices, and pray together, and bid each 
 other God speed. The place was worthy of the oc- 
 casion. It was where heroes had stood up to the 
 death for the cause of truth and for the cause of the 
 Cross of Christ. It was where John Knox had lift- 
 ed up his voice against the encroachments of super- 
 stition and idolatry, and where his dust awaits the 
 dawn of the great Resurrection morning. The As- 
 sembly Hall too, was historic. Men of learning 
 and piety ; men who were great in the conflicts of 
 mind had met there to discuss the great questions 
 of the day, and the contests had been far more in- 
 teresting and important than the jousts and tourna- 
 ments that had rendered famous the courts of 
 Warwick and Kenilworth in the old Baronial days. 
 Men were there from all parts of the three king- 
 doms ; from France and Germany ; from the Low 
 Countries and Switzerland ; from Italy and Spain ; 
 
The Secretary. ijy 
 
 from the United States and Canada ; and all had 
 been interested in the discussions that had occu- 
 pied the attention of the council. 
 
 The evening set apart for the Americans came at 
 last. Dr. Dickson was to be one of the speakers. 
 For several days he had been nervous and excited. 
 The thought of facing this concourse of the very 
 princes of thought and speech, and of bearing on 
 his own shoulders the burden of fitly representing 
 this great object before them all was oppressive to 
 him. His theme was to be the Home Mission work of 
 the Church in the United States. After a modest 
 exordium in which he seemed to be gathering up 
 his strength for the great effort of his life, he launch- 
 ed out into his majestic subject, and soon took 
 captive the entire audience. At the first there was 
 the waving of fans and the almost imperceptible 
 buzz of a great assembly. But a pleasant illustra- 
 tion at the outset, and fans were still and the buzz 
 had ceased. Every ear gave attention, and at times 
 the sturdy going old lords of Scotland cried : "Hear! 
 Hear ! " Then came the grand descriptions of our 
 country, and the wealth that reached, out to its ut- 
 termost borders. There were pleasant anecdotes 
 that convulsed the stately lords and dames with 
 laughter ; then there was the stealthy wiping away 
 of tears that would come unbidden, as the orator de- 
 picted the scenes of missionary life with their sacri- 
 fices and their solemn responsibilities. During the 
 entire address the audience was held as though 
 spell-bound beneath the wonderful eloquence of the 
 
lyS Mefnorial. 
 
 speaker ; and a sigh of relief at its close showed 
 how deep had been the impression made upon them. 
 Then the storm of applause that could not be whol- 
 ly restrained during the discourse burst forth most 
 vehemently. And as the meeting came to a close, 
 congratulations were showered upon him, not only 
 by his own countrymen, but by the warm hearted 
 Britons and strangers from afar. 
 
 Perhaps the highest compliment of his life was 
 paid to Dr. Dickson on this occasion. It was by 
 one of the thoughtful, educated men of Britain, who 
 knew men and who was accustomed to weigh the 
 writings and speeches of the literary people of his 
 day, and remarked on this occasion that he doubted 
 whether there could be found in all the realm of 
 England's proud domain one who could have moved 
 and melted and carried away that sober, cultured 
 audience as had this wonderful American. 
 
 During his stay in Edinburgh he was the guest 
 of the Lord Provost of the City, Sir James Pal- 
 shaw, Bart, who was delighted with his genial 
 ways, and often measured his strength with him in 
 the joke and repartee. 
 
 From Edinburgh he went up to London, and 
 across the Channel to Paris. At the latter city he 
 learned of the railroad riots in the United States, 
 that so awaked his fears that he resolved to return at 
 once to America. In pursuance of this resolution 
 he returned to London, and embarked on the steam- 
 er Spain, August first, and on the twelfth landed at 
 New York, made a hurried visit to his family, then 
 
The Secretary. lyg 
 
 in Vermont, and on the twentieth of the same month 
 was at his desk in the Mission Rooms once more. 
 
 At the close of the year 1879 there seemed to be 
 an interruption to the general good health of the 
 Secretary, and some of his more observing friends 
 noticed that a change was perceptible in the vigor 
 of his walk, and in the general features of his sys- 
 tem. Heretofore his health had always been so good 
 and his physical system had been under such control 
 of the strong will, that it seemed as though he would 
 be always competent to carry forward his work. 
 So strong was the feeling of uneasiness in the minds 
 of some of his New York friends that they proposed 
 a trip to Europe with his wife and eldest daughter, 
 offering to provide most generously for all expenses. 
 But Dr. Dickson felt that there was still time for 
 work, and, thinking that the cares of the Office were 
 just then pressing, declined the generous offer of 
 his friends with many thanks. 
 
 The family knowing his devotion to his work 
 were inclined to think that even should he under- 
 take the journey he would carry the cares and anxi- 
 eties with him, and so obtain little benefit from the 
 trip. The Board of Missions were very thoughtful 
 and very kind, and passed a resolution, relieving 
 him from work a sufficient length of time to make 
 this or any other journey he might wish to under- 
 take. All this moved him with the feeling of their 
 kindness and sympathy, and to express himself in 
 terms of very strong gratitude and thankfulness. 
 The following is the Resolution of the Board : 
 
i8o Memorial. 
 
 New York, Jan'y. 14, 1880. 
 
 The following resolution was unanimously adopt- 
 ed by the Board at its meeting, yesterday, January 
 13, 1880. 
 
 Resolved : That the Rev. Dr. Dickson be grant- 
 ed leave of absence from the office as long as the 
 state of his health may require it, and that he be af- 
 fectionately urged to avail himself of this as due to 
 himself, his family and the Board. 
 
 O. E. Boyd. 
 
 Rec. Sec'y. 
 
 - A few months after this the meeting of the Gen- 
 eral Assembly took place at Madison, Wisconsin. 
 Dr. Dickson had not been well, and to his friends 
 the time seemed approaching when the labor and 
 care must cease. The shadows had been falling 
 even around the Secretary's desk. They had been 
 lengthening even as he had written those inspiriting 
 letters to the Missionaries in the west. The eye of 
 the officer was not becoming dim, but his natural 
 force was abating. He was not like the mighty 
 Lawgiver of the tribes, strong and vigorous to the 
 last. That finely organized brain, the home of great 
 thoughts, was beginning to give way. That strong- 
 ly knit frame was sympathizing with the weary mind. 
 A sense of unutterable weariness had begun to creep 
 over him. There came the sleep of the night, but 
 there was still languor in the morning, and it was 
 evident that the system had been taxed beyond its 
 strength. There was the strong will, the determin- 
 
The Secretary. i8i 
 
 ed effort, and the earnest feeling of duty, but there 
 was wanting the actual physical ability to put forth 
 the effort. 
 
 To his friends there came the painful conviction 
 that he was breaking down prematurely. He walk- 
 ed like a man tottering beneath invisible burdens. 
 Something of the old vivacity was leaving him: 
 something of the old sparkle was fading from his 
 eye, and his thoughts would occasionally seem to 
 be far away. He did not lose his interest in the 
 work. He felt its importance more than ever. He 
 did not fail in any of the duties pertaining to that 
 work, but he labored under difficulties that he could 
 not explain to himself, until at last the conviction 
 pressed upon his own mind that disease was at work 
 in his system. 
 
 Laboring under this conviction he made a visit 
 to his physician and former Elder, in Baltimore, 
 Dr. Wilson, a most watchful and devoted friend. 
 The Doctor had been watching him with a most 
 painful interest, knowing the peculiar nature of his 
 constitution, and on this occasion advised him 
 strongly, almost importunately, to cease his work at 
 once, even before the approaching meeting of the 
 General Assembly, and even not to attend the meet- 
 ing of that body. His practised judgment and 
 skilful eye took in the situation at once, and satis- 
 fied him that there was no time to lose. But the 
 Secretary thought that there was still time to labor 
 and that the work must go forward even in the 
 
i82 Memorial, 
 
 midst of languor and weariness. The time he had 
 set for his term of service was not yet up. He had 
 assigned ten years of labor for the Board, and hoped 
 for a few years then of quietness and peace in 
 some pleasant home. It is a remarkable fact, too, 
 that his friend, Dr. Wilson, had advised him in 1868, 
 when he had the subject of accepting the office of 
 Secretary under consideration, that he would not 
 live over ten years if he entered the service of the 
 Board. 
 
 Under these circumstances the Assembly met 
 at Madison. Dr. Dickson was in his place as Per- 
 manent Clerk. The matter of the Board of Mis- 
 sions came up, and the usual speech was expected, 
 but the general expectation was disappointed. He 
 was not able to make the effort. The strong will 
 was there, the earnest zeal, and the purpose, but 
 physical inability precluded the attempt. He could 
 only arise and say : that he must beg to be excused 
 as he felt strangely unwell, a feeling altogether new 
 to him as he had heretofore always been so well 
 and so strong. 
 
 A feeling of sadness pervaded the Assembly. It 
 was evident to all that his great work was coming 
 to a close. The strong staff was breaking. The 
 pressure had been too great, and the strong man 
 was yielding to its power. And the whole church, 
 speaking through that Assembly, directed that the 
 work should be laid down for a year to afford time 
 for rest, and possible recuperation, if it should be 
 
The Sen^etary. i8j 
 
 the will of the Great Head of the Church to pre- 
 serve him for further usefulness. The following is 
 the action of the Assembly. 
 
 It seems to your Committee to be their duty to 
 inform the Assembly, that the health of one of our 
 Secretaries, Rev. Cyrus Dickson D. D,, has become 
 impaired in the course of his ten years incessant 
 and self-denying labors in the service of the Board. 
 We ask the Assembly to express their warmest 
 Christian sympathy with Secretary Dickson in this 
 affliction ; and in the hope that a season of rest may 
 be blessed to the recovery of his health, and to his 
 return to the duties of his office, we unanimously 
 recommend, that the Board be directed to give him 
 leave of absence until the next Assembly, and to 
 continue his salary for that time." 
 
 The work was now interrupted. The burden was 
 laid down, but with regret, for no laborer loved his 
 work better than he, though it was slowly wearing 
 soul and body asunder. It had become to him a 
 second nature to survey the field ; take in its great- 
 ness ; lay plans for its cultivation ; encourage the 
 laborers, and speak words of cheer and strength to 
 the Church ; and it was a most grievous sacrifice to 
 lay it down. 
 
 The following letter from Rev. George Norcross 
 D. D., pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church, 
 Carlisle, Pennsylvania, with reference to Dr. Dick- 
 son's work in the Secretary's office, will be gladly 
 read and appreciated : 
 
iS^ Me77iorial. 
 
 "The Manse, Second Presbyterian Church, 
 
 Carlisle, Penn., June 2"^, 1882. 
 Rev. Dr. Eaton : 
 
 You have asked for my recollections of our 
 friend in his relations to the Board of Home Mis- 
 sions. It was my privilege to be a member of the 
 General Assembly of 1871, which met in the city of 
 Chicago. I was present when he made his first 
 speech in that body as Secretary of the Board of 
 Home Missions. The financial statement of the 
 condition of the Board had been made by his associ- 
 ate. Dr. Kendall, in a very clear, strong speech, but 
 without much appeal to the emotions of his audi- 
 tors. Dr. Dickson told me afterwards that he had 
 not intended to say anything ; but while his col- 
 league was presenting the subject, the inspiration 
 of discourse came upon him, and when the opportu- 
 nity was offered, he arose and began one of the 
 most remarkable oratorical efforts it has ever been 
 my privilege to hear. Plainly impromptu, glowing 
 with emotion, sparkling with wit, and surcharged 
 with humor, the wonderful strain of his oratory took 
 its way. It was a series of surprises ; a resistless 
 torrent bearing on its bosom in whirling eddies the 
 most wonderful and thrilling combinations. Though 
 it was near the hour of adjournment for the morn- 
 ing session, and all were weary and anxious to be 
 away, in a few moments the audience was comple- 
 tery electrified. Many who had arisen to leave the 
 room when he began were arrested and brought 
 back ; crowds came in from the lobbies and the ves- 
 
The Secretary. i8§ 
 
 tibule and gathered around the speaker in rapt at- 
 tention. At times a perfect storm of excitement 
 swept over the house, and the audience passed re- 
 peatedly from laughter to tears and from tears to 
 laughter under the sway of his magical gift of un- 
 studied eloquence. The usually staid assembly be- 
 came one of the most animated scenes ; men rose 
 in their places and cheered, and ladies in the gal- 
 leries waved their handkerchiefs and laughed and 
 cried. When in the full tide of discourse, in the 
 midst of a very telling passage he made some tri- 
 fling slip in the order of his words, which amounted 
 almost to an Irish bull, but with an Irishman's 
 ready humor he righted himself, and went on, to the 
 infinite delight of his admiring and sympathetic 
 audience. It was a scene never to be forgotten by 
 any who had the good fortune to be present. It 
 was clear to all that a new power had come to the 
 front in the Home Mission work of the re-united 
 Presbyterian church. The two Secretaries were 
 manifestly the complements of each other, and every 
 one felt that they were "the right men in the right 
 places." 
 
 I shall never forget the summer of 1874, much of 
 which I spent in his society in New York. A heavy 
 debt was resting on the Board. It had been hoped 
 that some relief would have come from the General 
 Assembly of that year, as the Assembly of the year 
 before had generously come to the aid of the Board 
 of Foreign Missions ; but nothing efficient was done, 
 and the ungracious task was laid upon the Board of 
 
i86 Memorial, 
 
 cutting down the appropriations of the Home Mis- 
 sionaries. The Board could not distribute funds 
 that it had not received, and common honesty re- 
 quired that it should promise no more than it could 
 pay. It was intensely warm weather ; Dr. Kendall 
 was absent from the city because of ill health, and 
 the burden of writing to the needy ministers under 
 the care of the Board the unwelcome news of re- 
 trenchment fell upon the remaining Secretary. A 
 great number of similar letters must be written. 
 Everywhere they would carry the sorrow of disap- 
 pointment, and in many cases the pinching of want. 
 To write these letters was a daily torture to our be- 
 loved friend. In imagination he followed everyone 
 into the home of a Missionary, and saw the gloom 
 which it shed over his household. His sympathet- 
 ic nature was burdened by the thought of the anx- 
 ious men, the weary women, and the needy children 
 to whom his official letter would be indeed sad tid- 
 ings. I have seen him fairly groan in spirit as he 
 leaned over his ungracious task. Nothing but dire 
 necessity compelled him to go on with the work, 
 and yet he seemed to feel that he must personally 
 write to every missionary, that he might express the 
 tenderness of his fraternal sympathy, and explain to 
 him officially the miserable necessities of the Board. 
 These scenes were brought back most forcibly when 
 Dr. Roberts, his successor, remarked, pointing to 
 his coffi.n, as it rested at the foot of Westminster 
 pulpit : There lies Cyrus Dickson, the victim of a 
 sympathetic heart ! " 
 
The Secretary. i8y 
 
 In the summer of 1877, on the sixteenth of June, 
 Dr. Dickson sailed from the port of New York on 
 the steamer Egypt, of the National line, for Liver- 
 pool. It was my privilege to be one of the party 
 whose faces were set toward the first General Pres- 
 byterian Council, which was to meet in the city of 
 Edinburgh, the ancient home of Presbyterianism. 
 During the sea voyage Dr. Dickson, who had 
 left his work in a jaded condition, sought se- 
 clusion rather than society. But when he reach- 
 ed the heroic scenes of Scottish story, and met 
 the representatives of a world-wide church, his ar- 
 dent nature became charged with enthusiasm, and 
 his speech on Home Mission work in America was 
 one of the events of the Council. 
 
 The construction of the Free Church Assembly 
 Hall in which the Council was convened is such 
 that the large map, which had been taken all the 
 way from New York, could not be hung up in such 
 a manner as to be seen to any advantage ; so it re- 
 mained ingloriously rolled up at the Doctor's lodg- 
 ing place. But this disappointment gave him the 
 opportunity for playfully remarking in the begin- 
 ning of his speech that he "had brought a map along 
 to illustrate the greatness of the Home Mission 
 work in America" but he had ''not found room 
 enough in Scotland to hang it up." This hit which 
 was thought to be characteristic of the American 
 spirit, was very well received, and the speaker was 
 soon on the best of terms with his audience. 
 
 Dr. Dickson had intended to spend some time 
 
i88 Memorial. 
 
 abroad, and even talked of going as far as St. Peters- 
 burgh, as on a former trip he had visited the 
 southern part of the Continent, but when the sad 
 news of the railroad riots of that year reached us in 
 London, all his plans for an extended tour were 
 dashed at once, and he determined to return by the 
 next steamer. The accounts of the American riots 
 were greatly exaggerated by the English papers. 
 In common with all his countrymen abroad he felt 
 keenly his country's disgrace in the lawless out- 
 breaks of that summer, but his great anxiety was 
 for the Church and the struggling Missionaries for 
 whom he felt more than a brother's solicitude. I 
 shall never forget his manner when he announced 
 to me in the city of London his determination to 
 return at once to America. He had just returned 
 from a little trip to Paris, but now he had no heart 
 for a vacation, if his country and his brethren were 
 in trouble. His quick imagination met the coming 
 disasters more than half way. He had passed 
 through all the scenes of confusion in the border 
 city of Baltimore during our Civil War. If now a 
 war of classes was begun, as reported, in his native 
 land, he had no heart for tours of recreation and 
 pleasure. He would go back and share whatever 
 God had in store for his distracted country and the 
 church of his fathers. It was idle to urge upon 
 him his need of rest, and the possibility that the re- 
 ports were false, or at least exaggerated. The spir- 
 it of self-sacrificing zeal that wore him out in a few 
 short years was strong upon him, and he hurried 
 
The Secretary. i8g 
 
 back to his tread-mill round of duties until he stag- 
 gered and fell under the weary yoke. 
 
 When I reached New York on my return, about 
 the first of October, I found him weary and exhaust- 
 ed with his summer's work and anxieties. He talk-^ 
 ed very freely about his health and his work in the 
 Board. He told me in confidence that he feared he 
 could not stand 'the wear and tear' of his position 
 much longer ; that he had received his office by the 
 voice of the whole church, expressed in the choice 
 of the General Assembly, and that when he could 
 go no farther he would resign the trust again to the 
 General Assembly. He confided to me that he did 
 not expect to be able to bear the burden longer 
 than to the Spring of 1880, when, if God spared him, 
 he would have finished ten years of service in the 
 Secretaryship, and could retire with the conscious- 
 ness of having done his duty to the best of his abil- 
 ity, and the conviction that a younger man could 
 render the Church better service. This presenti- 
 ment proved to be only too true. It was in the fate- 
 ful Spring of 1880 that for very weariness that skil- 
 ful right hand forgot its cunning, and that eloquent 
 tongue began to stammer, and a sorrowing church 
 began to see the beginning of the end. 
 
 Of no loving follower of the Master could it be 
 said more truthfully, that he was 'straitened' until 
 his work was 'accomplished'. Many of his best 
 friends felt that his exceptional gifts might have 
 been long spared to the Church, had he been reliev- 
 ed of the weariness of clerkly labor which confined 
 
igo Afemorial. 
 
 him so much of his time, not only to the office, but 
 to his desk. It was painful, to those who had ap- 
 preciated his power on the platform and in the pul- 
 pit, to see him wearing out in the veriest drudgeries 
 of office-work — in the performance of tasks that 
 might have been discharged by any clerk. But it is 
 only fair to say that with this feeling of his friends 
 he had no sympathy. He did not thus interpret his 
 obligations to the church at large, and especially 
 to the brethren who looked to the Board for assist- 
 ance. It was his loving sympathy with these men 
 that made him feel it his sacred duty to open all 
 their letters with his own hand, and read all their 
 contents with his own eye, and in turn, reply to 
 them, if possible, with his own brave and loving 
 words. Many of these Missionaries were his own 
 personal friends ; all of them were soldiers enlisted 
 with him in a common cause. He made all their 
 anxieties his own. He suffered with them in their 
 hardships and privations ; in their bereavements and 
 trials. He could not spare himself when he knew 
 of the burdens which press so heavily on a large 
 portion of our laborious, but poorly paid ministry. 
 In the Providence of God he might be called to be 
 a leader, but he had all the true soldier's instinct 
 that a manly officer must share in the labors and 
 sacrifices of the common rank and file. He felt 
 himself in living and loving contact with the whole 
 Church, and he could truly say with the Apostle 
 Paul : **Who is weak and I am not weak 1 Who is 
 offended and I burn not V 
 
The Secretary. igi 
 
 And when the end came no minister of modern 
 times could more truly say : *'I am now ready to be 
 offered and the time of my departure is at hand ; I 
 have fought a good fight ; 1 have finished my course ; 
 I have kept the faith, henceforth there is laid up for 
 me a crown of righteousness which the Lord the 
 righteous Judge shall give me at that day, and not 
 to me only, but unto all them also that love his ap- 
 pearing." 
 
 With great respect, I am, 
 
 Yours fraternally, 
 George Norcross. 
 
VIII. THE MAN— THE CHRISTIAN— 
 THE PREACHER. 
 
 ^^ Sooner or later that which is now life shall be 
 poetry^ and every fair and manly trait shall add a 
 richer strain to the song.'' 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 ''/ press toivard the -^nark for the prize of the high 
 calling of God in Christ Jesus T 
 
 Phil. hi. 14. 
 
VIIL THE MAN— THE CHRISTIAN- 
 THE PREACHER. 
 
 It is the shrub that is nursed and cared for that 
 grows up into the tall and comely oak. It is the 
 bulb placed in generous soil and treated to sunshine 
 and shower that throws up its strong stock, and 
 produces vigorous buds that expand into rich flowers, 
 filling the air with fragrance and charming the eye 
 with beauty. And the general rule is, that it is the 
 child of the Christian home, the subject of many 
 prayers, the recipient of good advice, the child of 
 the Sabbath School, and of the Sanctuary, that 
 grows up to years of usefulness in the Church and 
 the community. There are exceptions. Sometimes 
 the lily, with its rich, cool petals, and with fragrance 
 that suggests the gardens of some fairy land, is 
 found by the side of the stagnant pool. And some- 
 times the child that is born under most unpromis- 
 ing circumstances, and with repulsive surroundings 
 that suggest most dangerous influences, grows up to 
 become a pillar in the Church and a blessing to the 
 world. But this only shows what grace can do to 
 regenerate and bless our fallen humanity, and as- 
 sures us that there is no limit to God's power and 
 no restraint to His mercy. 
 
 The early life of Cyrus Dickson was promising. 
 
ig6 Memorial. 
 
 The influences that surrounded him were pure and 
 good. Both the home example and the home in- 
 struction were such as to induce the boy to a good 
 and pure and upright life. He was hedged about 
 with good influences. And they were not lost upon 
 him. They brought forth their fruit in due season. 
 
 The advice of the inspired king of Israel in the 
 matter of training up a child was followed, and the 
 rich, ripe fruits of a careful, earnest life were the re- 
 sult. The strong faith and the earnest, persistent 
 prayers of those pious parents brought a blessing 
 of care and thoughtfulness and conscientiousness 
 and consecration to God, upon the son of their love 
 and hope. He became, through the blessing of God, 
 the dutiful son ; the diligent, pains-taking student ; 
 the earnest preacher of the Gospel ; the successful 
 minister ; The enthusiastic, brilliant and accom- 
 plished Secretary. 
 
 When a boy he was a favorite amongst his fel- 
 lows. The strong, earnest feeling of right that 
 characterized him prevented him from encroaching 
 on the rights of his companions, and his rigid sense 
 of justice induced him to respect the feelings, and 
 wishes, and weaknesses of those who were younger 
 than himself. And the flow of good humor that 
 welled up from his heart, made him a most desir- 
 able companion. 
 
 And when he left the quiet home, still a mere boy 
 in years, and listened but seldom to the voices that 
 had been sweet music to his soul, he did not forget 
 the past. Amid all the scenes of Academy and 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher, igy 
 
 College life and vacation rambles, and associating 
 necessarily with some not the purest in heart or life, 
 he maintained the pure, sweet life of integrity that 
 had been commenced at home. From childhood to 
 mature manhood he maintained a conscience void of 
 offence toward God and toward man, as far as the can- 
 ons of a most rigid morality and virtue are concern- 
 ed. And for the rest, between God and his own soul, 
 this was his confidence and his hope : "The blood 
 of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin." 
 
 And then, when he went out into the world to 
 meet the hum of business and the shock of men, 
 he carried with him the same sense of justice, the 
 same respect for the rights of others, the same 
 generous, unselfish disposition that had character- 
 ized him as a child. Throughout life he was gener- 
 ous and liberal, often to his own hurt. No call 
 for aid ever came to him that was dishonored. 
 Whether that call came from the poor mendicant 
 that had stopped at his door asking for a morsel of 
 bread, or was borne on the air in soft echoes, as 
 missionary news was sent in from the ends of the 
 earth, it was always the same — responded to with a 
 cheerful heart and a generous hand. And this gen- 
 erosity was not of the ostentatious kind. It was 
 like the evening dew that falls insensibly while the 
 world sleeps. It was bestowed quietly and without 
 outward demonstration. There was no meanness 
 nor littleness about the man, but a heart soft as a 
 woman's, deep as the ocean, and that beat warmly 
 and lovingly for the whole human family. 
 
ig8 Memorial. 
 
 One who was well acquainted with the habits and 
 modes of thought of Dr. Dickson writes : 
 
 **He was so kind and loving to every one, and 
 was especially devoted to the interests of his own 
 people, honoring them in every way he could ; and 
 I think almost every individual in his church, old 
 and young, considered him their personal friend. 
 Many things relating to this feature of his char- 
 acter, of wdiich the family knew nothing, have been 
 told them since his departure." 
 
 He had elements of popularity such as few men 
 possess. Whether in the home, in social life or in 
 the office, or on the streets, he had a kind word and 
 a pleasant smile for all with whom he came in con- 
 tact. The instinctive feeling of all who had inter- 
 course with him was that he was their friend. He 
 was acquainted not only with his friends, but with 
 the families of his friends. In associating with his 
 neighbors he always made thoughtful inquiries for 
 all connected with them. Children were always 
 drawn to him. He took an interest in them. He 
 entered into their feelings and sympathies and 
 could always command their attention and regard. 
 
 He was popular with the young men of his day. 
 He never forgot the days of his own early man- 
 hood, and the peculiar wants of the young, and he 
 always sought out this class with advice and en- 
 couragement and sympathy. The young men could 
 go to him and feel that their cause would be made 
 his own. 
 
 He had that most desirable faculty of remember- 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Pi^eacher. igg 
 
 ing faces and names, and was able to recognize and 
 take in on the instant, the circumstances of those 
 he met even casually. In his country charge, as 
 well as in the great city, he was familiar with the 
 homes of the people. And as he sought out the 
 poor in their humble dwellings, and sat down with 
 them and talked with them, first, of the common 
 things of life, of the children at school, of the 
 older boys who were away from home, of the girls 
 striving to work their own way in the world ; and 
 then of the more important things of the world 
 to come, gliding almost insensibly from the less to 
 the greater, they felt that the sunshine had come 
 into their homes with the caller, and that they had 
 new courage and hope and life infused into their 
 souls. And the influence of his presence and the 
 tonic of his words were the same in all the house- 
 holds into which he came, whether in the quiet or 
 more public ways of life. 
 
 This was the case when he was a pastor ; and 
 when he entered the wider sphere of the Board of 
 Home Missions, with larger advantages, and greater 
 capabilities, there was always the same disposition 
 to enter into the feelings of all with whom he came 
 in contact. The w^eak, struggling churches in the 
 West, the poor Missionary, almost discouraged and 
 ready to give up the conflict, always found in him 
 a friend, and always drew inspiration from his gen- 
 erous, sympathizing speech and strong faith in God. 
 
 And for a man occupying such large fields of 
 work, and coming in contact with so many active, 
 
200 Memorial. 
 
 energetic minds, he was remarkably free from the 
 least approach to envy. His aims were always 
 high ; ambition he had in large measure ; but it 
 was ambition to be good and to do good, and not 
 ambition to shine in the world's estimation. He 
 was ambitious to stand in his lot, and to do God's 
 work, and benefit the souls of men, and help to 
 make the world better and thus glorify God. But 
 he had no disposition to set himself above his 
 brethren nor to exalt himself at the expense of others. 
 He was content to do his own work, and if others 
 did theirs better, he was always ready to acknowl- 
 edge their excellence, and rejoice in their success. 
 
 Of him as a man it can be said, with far greater 
 propriety than was said of Julius Caesar, by the no- 
 ble orator, Mark Antony : 
 
 His life was gentle ; aad the elements 
 
 So mixed in him that nature might stand up 
 
 And say to all the world ; This was a man." 
 
 As a Christian this one thing he did — He ascribed 
 everything to God's free grace. There was no self 
 righteousness, no disposition to trust in the slight- 
 est degree to his own works. Jesus Christ was all 
 in all to him. The precious blood of the cross was 
 that in which he trusted for the pardon of sin, for 
 daily strength and growth, and for full preparation 
 for the coming glory. 
 
 Vital piety is supposed to be a necessary qualifi- 
 cation for the preaching of the Gospel. Yet genu- 
 ine piety may exist under various degrees of devel- 
 opment. The sacred flame may burn but dimly on 
 
The Man — The Christia^i — The Preacher. 201 
 
 the inner shrine, yet may not be extinguished. Yet 
 this sacred fire needs to be watched with more than 
 vestal vigilance in order to the soul's sweetest peace, 
 and the highest efficiency in the Lord's service ; 
 there must be constant growth and development. 
 
 This was eminently the case in the heart and life 
 of Dr. Dickson. All his correspondence with his 
 friends ; all the observation of those who studied 
 his life, and were familiar with his ministry of forty 
 years, testify as to how he grew in grace, how he 
 walked with God, and how he improved in spiritual- 
 ity. He was familiar with the word of God, and 
 fhis not alone as a part of the furniture for preach- 
 ing, but for his own personal comfort and enjoy- 
 ment. At a friend's house, on coming down in the 
 morning, he remarked casually on the beauty of a 
 certain chapter in the prophecy of Isaiah, introduc- 
 ing the matter by saying : " I was reading for my 
 own comfort before I came down, and found these 
 sweet words," and then went on to say what com- 
 fort there was in the chapter, and what a blessed 
 thing it was that provision was made for all the 
 wants of God's children. 
 
 One who was an inmate of his house, in speaking 
 of his religious life, says : *' He never seemed to talk 
 religiously as a duty, but no one could help seeing 
 that it was his life. In all his conversation every- 
 thing was judged by the highest standard. He al- 
 ways brought forth 'good things out of the good treas- 
 ure of his heart.' It was so full of love to Christ, 
 
202 Memorial. 
 
 and so entirely consecrated to Him that he could not 
 help speaking of Him." 
 
 He was a man that walked with God from day to 
 day. He talked with Him, and God's word came to 
 him in reply. Without the outward demonstration 
 to the senses that belonged to ''the world's gray 
 fathers," in the days of the tent and the altar, he 
 yet talked with God as a man with his friend. To 
 Him he went for counsel and advice. He always 
 looked for the pillar of cloud to gather itself to- 
 gether ere he struck his tent, and when the cloud 
 stopped, then he was ready to pitch his tent. The 
 mind ot the Lord was the great question with him 
 in the anticipation of the few changes that came to 
 him in his official life, and when God showed him 
 the path of duty he consulted not with flesh and 
 blood, but followed whither the way led. 
 
 When filial affection would have prompted him to 
 go to the West and settle near his aged father's 
 home, a more earnest cry from God induced him to 
 go to Wheeling and settle among strangers. And 
 the history of his life shows that in all this he was 
 simply following the counsel of God, leading him 
 onward in such a way as to work out the best inter- 
 ests of His kingdom and the building up of His 
 Church. And in all these changes God honored 
 His servant and stood by him in all things. 
 
 As to his devotional habits there is this brief de- 
 scription by one who was familiar with his daily life 
 and knew of its minutest details : 
 
 " He always arose very early and went to his 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher . 20 j 
 
 study, so as to have time for his devotions, and for 
 studying his Bible in Greek and English. In win- 
 ter he often had a light by his bed, and read until 
 the servants were up to make the fires. Even in 
 the most exciting times, I do not believe he ever 
 looked at the newspaper until he had had at least 
 an hour for the Bible. I think he studied the He- 
 brew a good deal, as it was always on his table, but 
 the Greek Testament was his constant companion. 
 
 Although he loved and valued the old version of 
 King James, and made it the chief resort in his de- 
 votional reading, yet he loved at times to look into 
 the Hebrew and Greek, and to explore the original 
 sources of the Divine revelation. Just as beloved 
 sometimes to go up to the very fountain where the 
 clear, cool water gushed from the living rock, and 
 lave his fevered brow, and taste it in all its freshness 
 and coolness, so he loved to go to the inspired origi- 
 nals of God's word and examine and enjoy the truth 
 in the very words of the Holy Ghost. And this 
 was his life -long practice, and it brought great com- 
 fort to his mind. He did not make a display of this 
 learning in his public ministrations, yet to the care- 
 ful hearer there was noticed the beautiful and at- 
 tractive fruits of a rare and ripe scholarship. His 
 well thumbed Greek Testament was always at hand, 
 until his work was done, and he went up to read the 
 Word not in Hebrew nor Greek nor English, but 
 to hear it in the language of Canaan. 
 
 His piety was of the hopeful, cheerful and confi- 
 dent kind. There was no sickly sentiment about it. 
 
204 MemoriaL 
 
 There was nothing of the morbid, desponding feeling 
 in his heart, that made him ill at ease with himself 
 and with the world. He was not one moment ex- 
 alted to the third heaven and the next sinking with 
 Peter in the waves of Galilee. If at times there 
 was a feeling of depression in his heart that bore 
 him down as though beneath invisible burdens, it 
 was the result of protracted mental and physical la- 
 bors. As a Christian man he always felt beneath 
 his feet the strong Rock, and knew he would never 
 be moved. If the waves did dash against him at 
 times he knew that they would never overcome him. 
 So strong was his faith and confidence in God and 
 His good Providence that he knew that all things 
 would work together for his good. 
 
 There was a cheerfulness about him that was 
 manifested in all his letters to his family on occa- 
 sions of his absence, and on little scraps of paper 
 found in his study, that showed something of the 
 heart of the man, and something of the faith of the 
 Christian. There was a feeling of devout thanks- 
 giving to God constantly present in his heart, that 
 made his whole inner life a perpetual Thanksgiving 
 Hymn. 
 
 In speaking of his three pastoral charges, there 
 was never a word of censure nor of anything that 
 would betoken a feeling of displeasure with any of 
 them. Although in the nature of things there must 
 have been many causes of irritation in the past, in 
 all these places, yet he buried these things in the 
 forgetfulness of his own heart, and thought and 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 20^ 
 
 spoke only of their pleasant and hopeful aspects. 
 He often made the remark : " I am thankful to 
 God for having given me such a pleasant and kind 
 and thoughtful people." 
 
 From the same sources, his letters and scraps of 
 paper, is learned his intense feeling for the spiritual 
 welfare of his people. Always is there the prayer 
 repeated in these papers that God would pour out 
 His Spirit on both pastor and people and revive His 
 work. He preached with all his soul, but always 
 accompanied the preaching with earnest prayers for 
 the blessing of the Holy Sj^irit, and felt always that 
 without this the preaching would be in vain ; and 
 the result of all was the man grew in grace ; the 
 preaching was blessed ; sinners were converted ; 
 the people of God were comforted and edified. 
 
 In his devotion to his people he was always ready 
 to sacrifice the plans for the cultivation of the in- 
 terests of his own household. A member of his 
 household says : ''The many plans we formed for 
 reading together never could be long carried out. 
 Much as he desired the mental improvement of his 
 children, the bringing lost souls to the Saviour was 
 the absorbing work of his life." 
 
 With this manliness of character, and zeal in any 
 work he undertook ; with this strong, vigorous in- 
 tellectual nature ; with these habits of devotion and 
 consecration to God's service ; with this unceasing 
 prayer for the Holy Spirit's presence and power, his 
 ministry must be a successful one. The preaching 
 must be attended with power, and souls must be 
 
2o6 Me7norial. 
 
 converted and blessed. And that this was the case 
 his whole official life attests. 
 
 Cyrus Dickson was about five feet, seven inches 
 in height, rather robust in figure, large chest and 
 neck, with head large and firmly poised. His com- 
 plexion was florid, hair sandy and growing thin as 
 he advanced in life ; eyes dark blue, deeply set in 
 his head and full of fire and animation when en- 
 gaged in conversation and public address. His 
 brow arched grandly over his other features, giving 
 him the appearance of largeness of brain and great 
 intellectual power. When engaged in public speak- 
 ing the blood flowed tumultuously up through the 
 large vessels of his chest and neck, deluging his 
 brain with its ruddy currents, quickening its ener- 
 gies, exciting it to its utmost power of thought, and 
 enabling the speaker to pour out his ideas with 
 wonderful readiness and clearness and rapidity. In 
 his prime he was one of the first orators of his day, 
 swaying and moving his hearers as with a master's 
 hand. His voice was attractive. Though somewhat 
 shrill in its higher notes, it was the shrillness of the 
 cornet, and had sweetness even in its loudest tones. 
 In its lower tones it was his mother's voice, sweet 
 and soft and musical as the strokes of 
 " Silver bells at evening's close." 
 
 He had a peculiar constitution. Inheriting the 
 fine, delicate nervous organization of his mother, 
 he was subject at times to great depression of spir- 
 its. He was easily moved, and, under the excite- 
 ment of public speech would often be carried be- 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 20^ 
 
 yond his strength, and go home exhausted, crushed, 
 and helpless as a child. Under this depression he 
 would sometimes feel disheartened, despondent and 
 ready to think that everything was crumbling be- 
 neath his feet. But this was merely the result of 
 physical causes. It was the effort of a grand soul 
 struggling in the companionship of a physical or- 
 ganization too frail for the conflict. There was no 
 eclipse of faith. There was no loosening of the 
 grasp on the strong hand that upholds all things. 
 All was safe and comfortable as regards the pres- 
 ence and love of Christ. 
 
 In his early preaching in the church of Franklin 
 his style was bright and cheerful, and beautified by 
 many classical allusions. He loved Virgil and made 
 frequent use of the beautiful figures and tropes that 
 abound in his sparkling pages. He was a very close 
 observer of men and things, and drew his illustra- 
 tions from daily life as it was seen passing around 
 him. Hardly anything in the world of nature es- 
 caped his notice. Like the wise King of Israel, he 
 spoke of nature from the cedar of Lebanon to the 
 hyssop that springs out of the wall ; from the little 
 rill that gushes from the base of the rock to the 
 mighty flood that thunders at Niagara, and from the 
 little mole-hill that is crushed beneath the hunter's 
 tread, to the mighty Rocky Mountains that hide 
 their heads in the snows, and bathe them in the 
 fleecy clouds. 
 
 But with all the adornments of rhetoric and all 
 the flowers of poesy, there was the firm substratum 
 
2o8 Memorial. 
 
 of Gospel truth. There was, with all the symmetry 
 and force of Logic, the rich marrow of the Gospel, 
 to feed the hungry, to satisfy the thirsty and to direct 
 the inquirer to the cross and show the way in which 
 earnest souls might be enabled "to do justly, to 
 love mercy, and to walk humbly with God." 
 
 He was a thoughtful man, and there was much 
 thought in his sermons. The careful hearer might 
 carry away with him many a weighty thought that 
 would be valuable for his consideration for many 
 days to come. His successor coming after him 
 found the people still treasuring up the truths of 
 his sermons many years after his departure to other 
 fields. 
 
 As he advanced in study and in experience and 
 in years, the style of his preaching changed some- 
 what. While there was the same beauty and 
 adornment drawn from all available sources there 
 was more of the sober, earnest discussion of the 
 doctrine and practice of the Christian life. Whilst 
 there were the bright flowers of thought, there 
 were the solid, glittering gems of doctrine encrust- 
 ing every discourse. There were more frequently 
 the impassioned appeals to the heart and the con- 
 science, designed to arouse the hearer to the con- 
 ception of his lost estate as a sinner and to the 
 help found in the Saviour. And as he grew in 
 grace the spirituality of his discourses became 
 more prominent. His own religious experience 
 was largely mingled with his teaching, and the rich 
 fruits of the years were set before the hearers. 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 2og 
 
 He seemed in his style and manner to have 
 grasped the true idea of gospel preaching ; to con- 
 vince sinners of sin and lead them to the Saviour ; 
 and to build up the people of God in faith and 
 holiness. He had this before him in the choice of 
 texts, in the plans of sermons and in the delivery 
 of all his discourses. And in the heart of every 
 hearer there must have been the conviction that 
 there was a most intense earnestness in the preach- 
 er, and a most profound conviction in his own 
 heart as to the reality of the doctrines and duties 
 that he set forth. 
 
 And so he declared the way of God with earnest- 
 ness and trusted in Him as to the final result. 
 
 Dr. Dickson did not write his sermons, but pre- 
 pared them by his own close mental processes. 
 His practice was to prepare a very brief skeleton, 
 containing all the points of the sermon, and then, 
 with closed eyes and almost complete abstraction, to 
 work out laboriously and patiently those discourses 
 that were to please and instruct and edify his con- 
 gregations. His usual plan was the textual. The 
 text to him was not a motto for a labored essay ; not 
 soniething to suggest a train of thought, or the start- 
 ing point for a discussion drawn from the context ; 
 but the sole, entire theme of the discourse. The 
 text was selected. Here was a message from God. 
 Here were words indited by the Holy Spirit for the 
 instruction and edification of men. Now what is 
 the precise mind of the Holy Spirit .-* What is the 
 teaching of the word t And then he set about the 
 
210 Memorial. 
 
 elucidation of the text carefully and prayerfully, and 
 conscientiously. Word by word, and sentence by 
 sentence were scanned. The meaning of individual 
 words was examined ; the fullness and richness of 
 sentences were brought to view ; the doctrine, the 
 precept, the warning were all brought out with all 
 the clearness and force of which he was master. 
 Then the text as a whole was summed up with pa- 
 tient care, and this was followed by an application of 
 the subject to the heart and the conscience of the 
 hearer with such unction and fervor and plainness 
 as to make each individual feel that the matter was 
 personal to himself. In this way he reached deep 
 down into the subjectj and explored the hidden 
 meaning of the word, and brought to light the rich- 
 ness and beauty and value of the word of God. 
 
 In these sermons there was much of the consola- 
 tory and the comforting. He was conscious of his 
 own wants, and his knowledge of the common heart 
 of God's people showed him that their wants were 
 similar to his own, and the promises and assurances 
 he found in the word so well adapted to his own 
 comfort were brought to bear in the comforting, of 
 the church. But whilst he strove for the edification 
 of the body of Christ, and the building up of his 
 people, he did not neglect the great matter of cal- 
 ling sinners to repentance. And here he was pecu- 
 liarly tender as well as heart-searching. There was 
 no violent denunciation ; no magisterial sitting in 
 judgment. But there was the setting forth of the 
 soul's inestimable value ; the awful evil of sin ; the 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 211 
 
 wonderful love of God in the work of the cross ; the 
 renewing power of the Holy Spirit ; the sweet invi- 
 tations of the Gospel ; the promise of eternal life, 
 and the glories of the eternal world. All these 
 things were pressed upon the hearts of the hearers 
 with all the love and tenderness with which a par- 
 ent would deal with a beloved child. 
 
 He was a faithful preacher of the word, and shun- 
 ned not to declare the whole counsel of God, and 
 the seed sown from a full hand and accompanied by 
 the prayer of an earnest, hopeful heart was blessed 
 of God in many a rich harvest. The seed sown be- 
 side all waters will spring up and bring forth abun- 
 dantly even now that his labors are over, and he is 
 in the rest and the reward : "they that turn many 
 to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever". 
 
 His manner in the pulpit was easy and pleasant, 
 his gesticulation graceful and appropriate, and the 
 impression made on the mind of a stranger would 
 be pleasant and commanding. Whilst there was 
 nothing imposing in his figure or general appear- 
 ance, there was yet that in his countenance and 
 particularly in his eye that would command atten- 
 tion even from an ordinarily listless hearer. He 
 was a natural orator. The audience were at ease 
 when he arose to speak and as he proceeded they 
 had no doubt as to his mastery of himself and of 
 the subject. He spoke at the first easily and calm- 
 ly, preparing the way for his discussion and gradu- 
 ally warming up until at times every feature of his 
 countenance, every muscle of his body, and every 
 
212 Me^norial. 
 
 drop of blood in his veins were in sympathy with 
 his discourse, and brought into exercise to explain 
 and enforce the grand theme that was before him. 
 Then it was that thought seemed to be ever ready at 
 his call, and words flowed from his lips easily, grace- 
 fully, and naturally as the rain falls from the summer 
 clouds. He was never at a loss for words nor 
 were words in his lips merely sounds, silvery though 
 their echo might be, they were always the repre- 
 sentatives of ideas. They always bore mighty 
 thoughts in their bosom, and always set forth the 
 thought plainly as well as pleasantly. It was a 
 pleasure to hear him preach, not only for the truth's 
 sake and the Master's, but for the attractiveness of 
 the Rhetoric and the happy arrangement of trope 
 and figure and illustration. 
 
 Yet withal there was the simple desire on the 
 part of the preacher to preach Christ, to convince 
 men, to help and strengthen them, and to glorify 
 God in the work of the ministry. 
 
 Dr. Dickson was in the habit of quoting Scripture 
 with great accuracy, and had vast stores of it in his 
 memory, yet he kept a small Bible in the pulpit, 
 and often read proof texts from it, partly to be 
 strictly accurate, and partly for the sake of exam- 
 ple. He retained the shorter Catechism in his 
 memory, and often quoted it in his sermons. In 
 his own household it was kept freshly in memory 
 by constant recitations. Up to the last winter in 
 New York it was the constant custom to spend Sab- 
 bath evenings in reciting the Catechism, the Apos- 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 21 j 
 
 ties' and Nicene creeds, with portions of the Bible, 
 and singing the old, familiar Psalms and Hymns. 
 In his advice to his children, at home and at school, 
 every accomplishment was to be sought with the 
 one object, to glorify God. Music was but a prepa- 
 ration for the praises of Heaven. 
 
 He was always an ardent advocate of the cause of 
 Temperance. In his early days in Franklin he es- 
 poused the cause of the Washingtonian movement, 
 as something that promised good ; and every 
 scheme that looked in the same direction was en- 
 couraged and assisted. Personally he practised to- 
 tal abstinence throughout his whole life. 
 
 The cause of education lay very near to his heart. 
 Early in life he assisted many young men by hear- 
 ing them recite in his own study, and many young 
 men were indebted to him for their preparation for 
 the Gospel ministry. 
 
 Whilst in New York, Dr. Dickson's services were 
 in much demand as a preacher. He was always 
 ready to assist his brethren in this way, and gave 
 general satisfaction to the congregations. Many 
 seasons he remained at his post the entire summer, 
 and on invitation undertook the pastoral duties of 
 brethren who were out of town during the heated 
 term. At this time his preaching was full of ani- 
 mation, rich in the language of Scripture, and full 
 of the fine gold of the Gospel. There was great 
 variety in his discourses both as to subject and 
 treatment, yet he was remarkable for the narrow 
 compass of his Hymnology. For his own choice 
 
21^ Memorial. 
 
 and tastes half a dozen hymns would suffice. 
 There is this anecdote related illustrating this feat- 
 ure in his habits and taste : he was on a committee 
 to report a Hymn Book, that proved to be the first 
 Hymnal published by the General Assembly. He 
 was notified at Baltimore that the committee would 
 meet on a certain day in New York, with the re- 
 quest to meet with them. Being too busily engaged 
 to leave home, he replied by letter that he could 
 not attend, but if they would select his half dozen 
 hymns he would be ready to sanction whatever they 
 might do. Yet he was a lover of poetry and had 
 many of the elements of the true poet in his na- 
 ture. He could quote from the old classics many a 
 rich and racy line in the original ; and from the old 
 English poets he could give most appropriate quo- 
 tations, apparently without an effort. It is probable 
 that in the matter of his Hymns there were some 
 old associations that had very great weight in his 
 mind and greatly influenced his choice as he made 
 his selections, and this almost unconsciously. 
 
 One of Dr. Dickson's associates in the ministry 
 at Baltimore* has this just estimate of his character 
 and capabilities : 
 
 ^' One secret of his power was in his personal at- 
 traction — simplicity of matter and manner, his in 
 tense earnestness, quaintness of style, refined gen- 
 tility, and keen perception of the salient points of 
 human character, and eminent skill in using this 
 power to practical advantage. He was popular 
 
 *Rev. D. T. Caruahan, 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 21^ 
 
 with all people, for he had the peculiar faculty of 
 making everybody feel not only that he was a high- 
 toned Christian gentleman, but that he could see and 
 appreciate points of excellence in their character 
 which the mass of mankind overlooked. At the 
 same time he was no flatterer. 
 
 His capabilities as a platform speaker, which af- 
 terward developed into such grand proportions dur- 
 ing his brilliant career as Secretary of the Board of 
 Home Missions became apparent during our union 
 services in connection with the different benevolent 
 works of the church. His addresses then became the 
 chief features of such occasions. And because of 
 their quaint, apposite and striking illustrations, and 
 intense earnestness, secured the most rapt atten- 
 tion." 
 
 The remark of Justin Mc Carthy in regard to 
 Cobden* is most emphatically true in regard to Dr. 
 Dickson : " On everything he saw he turned a quick 
 and intelligent eye : he saw for himself and thought 
 for himself. Wherever he went he wanted to learn 
 something. He had in abundance that peculiar fac- 
 ulty which some great men of decidedly different 
 stamp from him and from each other have possess- 
 ed — of which Goethe boasted, and Mirabeau had — the 
 faculty which exacts from every one with whom its 
 owner comes in contact some contribution to his 
 stock of information ; he could learn something 
 from everybody. 
 
 * History of our own times. 
 
2i6 Memorial, 
 
 And now if we try to sum up the characteristics 
 of the man, the Christian, and the preacher, we shall 
 find them very strongly embraced in the one word, 
 growth. He was a growing man always and in 
 every respect. His course was onward and upward. 
 The boy was active and vivacious, and always had be- 
 fore him very high aims. He once told a good old 
 lady who thought small boys should be seen and not 
 heard, that the name of Dickson would yet be 
 heard around the world. As he advanced that boy- 
 ish vivacity became vigor, and strength as he 
 entered professional life. The desire to know on 
 the part of the boy led to a mind thoroughly stored 
 with all kinds of knowledge, and resources adapted 
 to all purposes. The ambition that characterized 
 him, even as he sat with dangling limbs on the lit- 
 tle boys' seat in the old log school house, became in 
 after life the eager desire and the intense zeal that 
 were embraced in the words of the Apostle : " this 
 one thing I do." The feelings that welled up in 
 his heart as he performed little kindnesses for his 
 mother expanded into the desire to benefit the en- 
 tire race of man, and to show kindness to every hu- 
 man being with whom he came in contact. The 
 boyish effort in the Fourth of July oration was but 
 the little tender bud that expanded and ripened in- 
 to those grand missionary addresses that electrified ■ 
 the Church, until the General Assembly were ready 
 to follow him in a new crusade against every form 
 of misbelief, and to plant the standard of the cross in 
 every hamlet and town and neighborhood through- 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher. 21 j 
 
 out the great West ; even as the people of old fol- 
 lowed Peter the hermit, from the pleasant land of 
 France into the desert, after his impassioned preach- 
 ing. And he continued to grow and expand 
 through all the years, in knowledge in charity, in 
 philanthropy, in patriotism, and in all those broad 
 principles that lifted him up above selfishness, and 
 made him a friend to humanity, and a most ardent 
 lover of his country. 
 
 And as a Christian man he grew steadily, con- 
 stantly, and most perceptibly to the notice of his 
 friends. To himself there was always this feel- 
 ing — I am not what I should be, I am not what I 
 wish to be— I am not what I hope to be ; yet all 
 along his Christian life he could say : *' By the 
 grace of God I am what I am.'* In his boyhood 
 days he was the ardent, impetuous Christian, wish- 
 ing to see the fruits of faith and prayer and work 
 constantly presenting themselves before him. La- 
 ter in life, there was even more warmth, more faith, 
 and more prayer, but at the same time more of a 
 willingness to sow, and water, and leave the growth 
 and the harvest to God. In his childhood's impetu- 
 ous feelings he wished some wonderful manifesta- 
 tion of God's power to convince his reason and thus 
 strengthen his faith ; as the sun reached its meridi- 
 an in life, he was willing to take God's word as he 
 found it on record, and trust all to his abiding faith- 
 fulness. And in his official work he joined his fel- 
 low Secretary in pressing the work with their ut- 
 most diligence ; and then he fell on sleep, feeling 
 
2i8 Memorial. 
 
 sure that God would bring this whole Nation safely 
 through the perils that now environ it, and make of 
 it a Christian nation whose God is the Lord. Early 
 in life there was a disposition to draw denomina- 
 tional lines somewhat close, but as the years passed 
 and his life was sweetened by the graces of Chris- 
 tian charity, the feeling was to fraternize with all 
 the children of God as brethren. 
 
 As a Christian he grew in grace. In the light of 
 God's countenance ; in the sweet sunshine of the 
 Saviour's love; in the strong aliment of the daily 
 study of God's word, and in the invigorating influ- 
 ence of constant, conscientious and enjoyable pray- 
 er he grew strong in faith and in spirit. These 
 blessed means of grace were freely used and had a 
 most precious influence on his heart and life and la- 
 bor. They were more to him than the dew of Her- 
 mon to the sources of the Jordan ; more than the 
 early and latter rains to the parched fields of Is- 
 rael's border ; more than the summer suns in the 
 ripening of the wheat in the plains, and the fruits 
 in the orchards ; they made him mighty in the 
 Lord, and gave to him a regular aud vigorous 
 growth in all the Christian graces. 
 
 There was a wondrous and beautiful growth in 
 the preacher. In his youthful days there was ardor 
 and sprightliness and beauty. He loved the flowers 
 in the fields and the great spreading trees in the 
 forest. He loved the hills that environed his Frank- 
 lin home, and the beautiful, flowing river that glid- 
 ed by. He greatly admired the stars that came out 
 
The Man — The Christian — The Preacher . 2ig 
 
 as sentinels on the watch-towers of night, and all 
 Nature was his treasury, from which he drew his 
 illustrations, to adorn and beautify his sermons. 
 They were all tributary to the one great object, to 
 render truth attractive and to win the heart to Jesus. 
 
 There are people still lingering near his early 
 home, amid the hills that bathe their feet in the Al- 
 legheny, who remember his early preaching, and 
 how familiar he seemed with Nature, and with what 
 wonderful touches he could adorn and render attrac- 
 tive a subject that before seemed dry and abstruse, 
 by incident, by comparison, and by the lessons of 
 the seasons and the voices of Nature. 
 
 But the years passed ; the burdens of pastoral 
 work increased, and the solemn contact with immor- 
 tal souls pressing on to the judgment, whilst exert- 
 ing a ripening influence upon his intellect, at the 
 same time sobered his reason, chastened his fancy, 
 and brought eternal verities more sensibly to his 
 soul. At the same time he gave attention to read- 
 ing, and to all forms of literary culture, and there 
 came a wondrous growth of intellect with the years. 
 And this, combined with his growth in grace, and 
 his natural ease and warmth, rendered him a most 
 attractive preacher of Christ. He preached the 
 same Saviour and the same Gospel as of old, but 
 there was a strength, an unction, a power with the 
 preaching of mature life that was most pleasant and 
 delightful and profitable. 
 
 This work of progress and improvement went for- 
 ward through his whole life. To hear him preach, 
 
220 Memorial. 
 
 or deliver one of those magnificent addresses, in 
 the work of his last years, the unprofessional hear- 
 er might be led to suppose that all this came as a 
 matter of course, and with little preparation or fore- 
 thought. But they who should so suppose would 
 have but a feeble conception of the man, or of the 
 nature of his labor, or of the measure of his toil. Like 
 the great orator who was thirty years preparing his 
 great oration, he was all his professional life prepar- 
 ing those city sermons and those soul inspiring 
 addressess that have given him a reputation that 
 is world wide. 
 
 *' The heights by great men reached and kept 
 Were not attained by sudden flight, 
 But they, while their companions slept, 
 Were toiling upward in the night." 
 
IX. THE HOME LIFE. 
 
 ^^Home is the resort 
 Of love, of joy f of peace ^ and plenty ; where ^ 
 Supporting and supported^ polished friends 
 And dear relations mingle into bliss.^^ 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 "Then the disciples went atvay agaht unto their 
 own homey 
 
 John xx. io. 
 
IX. THE HOME LIFE. 
 
 Sir Edward Coke, in an argument of an import- 
 ant case, says : ''The house of every one is to him 
 as his Castle and Fortress, as well for ■ his defence 
 against injury and violence as for his repose." It 
 is the one sacred place in all the world where peace 
 and harmony should dwell, and where the weary 
 body and the jaded mind may at once find rest. 
 The tourist in strange lands never gets free from 
 the home feeling. It will come over him in the 
 most sacred places, and in the midst of the most ex- 
 citing scenes. Temples and Pyramids, and sacred 
 shrines will all lose their interest and cease to 
 please as the thought of home and loved ones 
 sweeps over the heart like the night breeze over 
 the Eolian Harp, with its voices of sweetness and 
 memories of untold joys. 
 
 The family and home of Dr. Dickson commenced 
 at Franklin, Pennsylvania, in the month of January, 
 1840. In that quiet little town, nestled away amid 
 the hills, and surrounded by scenes of great historic 
 interest, he builded his home and established his 
 Lares. It was in a quaint old fashioned house, 
 with porch and veranda in front, and wide hall run- 
 ning through the center facing West Park, and 
 looking out on the waters of French Creek, just be- 
 
22^ Memorial. 
 
 fore they debouch into the romantic Allegheny. It 
 was in near proximity to the church and not far 
 from the business portion of the town. In the sweet 
 summer days there was little to disturb the tran- 
 quility, save the old lumbering coach that awaked 
 attention as it passed by every alternate day, 
 with its small bag of letters and the few passen- 
 gers whom business or pleasure brought into the 
 country. All around the town the hills loomed 
 up to a considerable height, cutting off the view of 
 the surrounding country, but clothed in summer 
 with the luxurious green of . forest trees, enameled 
 with the bright flowers of the wild honeysuckle 
 coming out in advance of its leaves, and the yet more 
 gorgeous blooms of the laurel. Away to the right, 
 marked by a yet livelier green, was the gorge 
 through which flowed the waters of the Allegheny, 
 and to the left, the course of French Creek, hallow- 
 ed still by the adventurous voyage of the Father of 
 his country, and hanging darkly over it the precipi- 
 tous cliff that overlooks alike town and country and 
 river and hill and creek, was distinctly marked out. 
 Here commenced the ministry and here was plant- 
 ed the home of the man whose influence was to be 
 felt away beyond the Rocky Mountains, and the 
 then unknown region of Alaska, and beyond the 
 great ocean. And here amongst many other happy 
 homes was set up that of the young minister, made 
 beautiful by affection and love and harmony, a mod- 
 el home for those who were about setting up for 
 themselves, even as the life of the minister was to 
 
The Home Life, 22^ 
 
 be an example to those who should be attendants 
 upon his ministry. And there is no doubt but that 
 the influence of this home, with its hospitable board 
 and its entertaining talks and its genial temper and 
 its cheerful ways and its sacred family altar had an 
 influence in improving the society and the lives of 
 all who came within the sphere of its influence, and 
 in moulding and shaping the institutions of the 
 congregation, and of some outside the immediate 
 congregation. 
 
 In this small home the minister and his wife be- 
 gan their quiet life. These first years were always 
 full of sweet and pleasant memories to the Pastor. 
 The great world was not so large then as it became 
 afterwards. Although he could even tRen see away 
 beyond the Franklin hills, and could hear something 
 louder than the murmur of the waters of the Alle- 
 gheny, yet he found such a paradise in his home 
 that he was content with all its surroundings. The 
 first winter passed. The warm spring came. The 
 mud dried up under the genial influence of the warm 
 May day suns. With his wife he would take long 
 rides on horseback, climbing the steep Pittsburgh 
 hill ; skirting the shady banks of the Allegheny, as 
 the road led up to Oil Creek ; occasionally dismount- 
 ing to gather wonderful clusters of laurel, or honey- 
 suckle, and then returning laden with immense mass- 
 es of flowers as though preparing for the worship of 
 Flora. At other times they would vary the plan and 
 take long walks by themselves in the same early 
 summer days after the forenoon labors of study and 
 
226 Memo7'ial. 
 
 household affairs were over. At such times they 
 would go up by the big dam, where the narrow path 
 hung over the high precipice, and where the waters 
 of French Creek rushed tumultuously over the 
 breastwork of the dam ; or they would wander away 
 down to the lower end of the town in the direction 
 of Smith's Run, aud up the gorge that led to Bully 
 Hill. Here they would gather the liverwort and the 
 lady's slipper, and, climbing still higher on the rocks 
 find the gay culumbine, or, nestled away under the 
 leaves, or hidden under the springing sweet fern, 
 the bright, fragrant, trailing arbutus, regardless of 
 the fear of rattlesnakes, or other nameless terrors. 
 
 They woi^d then sit down and botanize, giving 
 to each flower its proper place in the flower family, 
 its genera and species, with its medicinal properties 
 and habits. But when the arbutus, with its rough, 
 uncouth leaves, its bright pink buds and its wonder- 
 ful fragrance came under review all ordinary rules 
 were laid aside in w^onder at its beauty and fra- 
 grance. By what wonderful chemistry of earth and 
 of atmosphere was this subtle fragrance concocted } 
 Whence this aroma so delicate, so refreshing, so 
 susrsfestive of the odors of Eden as we dream of it, 
 and whence this reminder of all that is beautiful 
 upon earth, or in other worlds } 
 
 And so the hours would pass, and the sun would 
 approach his setting, and the young couple would 
 return laden with their hands full of gay flowers 
 wherewith to deck the high mantle, or the great old 
 fashioned fireplace in the sitting room. 
 
The Home Life. 22'j 
 
 These long rides and walks in particular after- 
 noons of leisure brought relief after morning studies, 
 and afternoons of pastoral work. They brought a 
 change to "The Lady of the Manse" after her care- 
 ful forenoons in the house, while the pastor was busy 
 in his study, and assisted in confirming that health 
 and vigor that had been the heir loom of both from 
 vigorous and healthy households on both sides. In 
 that romantic home amongst the hills, with its clear, 
 sparkling streams of spring water, and its breezes 
 odorous with the healing breath of the pine forests 
 that stretched along to the north east, they both 
 drank in health, and took on a vigor of body and 
 mind that was of immense service to them when 
 called to labor in far different scenes, and the mem- 
 ory of these things was always sweet and delightful. 
 
 From the first pitching of his tent in his own 
 quiet domain Dr. Dickson was happy and content- 
 ed as any titled dignitary in his turretted Castle. 
 His home was his castle, without towers or baronial 
 halls. It was his paradise without ever-blooming 
 flowers or perennial fruits. It was to him simply 
 home with its peace and its quietness, its rest, its 
 heaven, so far as heaven can be found upon earth. 
 And this home continued sweet and restful to him 
 until he went up to the only perfect home in heaven, 
 where all God's children meet in their Father's 
 House ! 
 
 This home upon earth changed its locality again 
 and again, but it was identically the same home, for 
 the same light shone in its sacred precincts ; the 
 
228 MemoriaL 
 
 same voice was the chief attraction in its music ; 
 and although new, fresh faces came into it, as the 
 years rolled along, and new child-voices began to be 
 heard in its widening circle, yet it was the same 
 sweet, delightful home to the pastor whether at 
 Franklin, or Wheeling, or Baltimore or New York. 
 "Where the king is, there is the court" so where 
 the wife, the children were, there was the home to 
 this domestic, home-loving man. 
 
 And wheresoever the absence and the call of duty 
 led him ; whether to Brokenstraw, or Rock Island, 
 or Nebraska, or Texas, or Egypt, or Edinburgh ; 
 his mind always turned toward his home, and the 
 attraction was very strong that drew him thither. 
 And so strongly was he attached to his home and 
 his fireside that nothing but the urgent calls of duty 
 could induce him to leave them, even for a short 
 space of time, or prolong his absence beyond the 
 shortest limit possible. 
 
 And as he remembered the home of his childhood 
 by the side of the Lake, and cherished the memory 
 of his mother as the one sweet dream of his child- 
 hood's life ; and saw as the center, the light, the 
 beauty, the glory of that lakeside home, the sweet 
 mother with her soft eyes, and her gentle voice ; so 
 now in his own home, the home of his young man- 
 hood and of his mature strength, there was the same 
 attraction and the same exceeding great joy. The 
 kind providence to whose guiding hand he attribut- 
 ed every blessing that crowned his life, had sent him 
 a life companion most eminently adapted to his na- 
 
The Home Life. 22g 
 
 ture and temperament. She was entirely different 
 from him in temperament and general feature, both 
 physical and mental, yet exactly adapted to his 
 whole nature. The one was the complement of the 
 other. What one lacked, or possessed in small pro- 
 portion, the other possessed in large measure. 
 Whilst the husband was nervous, ardent and often 
 full of anxiety, and restless in regard to many things, 
 the wife was calm, collected, philosophical, and full 
 of hope. Whilst the former saw castles in the gold- 
 en clouds, and exultant strains of music in the 
 sounds that came to their ears ; the latter sometimes 
 saw the gilded clouds driven by storms, and the 
 distant voices heralding the tempest. But the two 
 together, the one the complement and fulness of 
 the other, so blended their tastes and judgments 
 and convictions as to make one beautiful whole, and 
 the result was harmony and peace and prosperity. 
 
 And with this blending of feeling and taste and 
 judgment, the home could not but be happy. And 
 in all the changes that came ; in all the troubles 
 that rose, in all the joys that were given them, Dr. 
 Dickson always ascribed the light and the comfort 
 and the success to this early partner of his life work, 
 and" in every thing yielded her the palm for supe- 
 rior judgment and prudence and discernment as to 
 what was right and proper to be done. 
 
 In this quaint old house, with its porch and veran- 
 da and high stone steps was born, Margaret Chris- 
 tiana, the oldest child, and here began the family 
 life that has been so full of joy and domestic happi- 
 
2 JO Memorial. 
 
 ness, even though the shadows did fall sometimes, 
 and the clouds roll themselves up in the sky. But 
 unlike many a family there was more sunshine than 
 clouds, and there was heard the singing of birds 
 more frequently than the voice of storms. But that 
 grand old house has yielded to the changes of time, 
 and the place that afforded the first home to the 
 minister has passed away, and is but a memory to 
 those who once inhabited it. But to some hearts 
 it is a memory that will never be quenched, a home 
 to which the thoughts will go back on many a tear- 
 ful pilgrimage, even as Israel now does to the wail- 
 ing place by the side of their Holy of Holies. 
 
 The next home of the minister was on the opposite 
 side of West Park, in the brick house that still 
 stands as a monument of the past. It too looks out 
 on the green, shaded by its few trees, and in the 
 rear upon the creek, as it sweeps around the cliff 
 and hastens to bury itself in the current of the Alle- 
 gheny. Here were born other two daughters, Eva 
 Reynolds and Fanny Delia, the former now Mrs. 
 W. W. Smith of Philadelphia, the latter Mrs. F. J. 
 Leavens of Norwich, Connecticut. And there the 
 grandmother came to be an inmate of the home, to 
 add her experience and the sweet light of her coun- 
 sels. 
 
 In this home the children began to occupy a 
 prominent place and to kindle up the light that after- 
 wards made the little circle brilliant with its domes- 
 tic joys as the heavens are with their stars. The 
 education of the little ones commenced early. There 
 
The Home Life. 2ji 
 
 were quiet lessons in the nursery, and there was al- 
 ways liberty to creep into the study where there 
 were the lessons taught from the little primer, but 
 sweeter lessons still, about the little Christ Child 
 and the work he came here to perform, and the way 
 to go to him now, even though we cannot see him, 
 as we kneel down in prayer. The very first lessons 
 these children learned were lessons of faith and trust 
 in God, as they learned of the Friend of sinners, 
 and the home of His people in heaven. And this 
 father, with the burdens of the church upon his 
 heart, was yet all cheerful and joyful in the midst of 
 his children in the home. It was there that he could 
 unbend, be a little child once more, and make them 
 happy as he made himself happy in their joy. 
 
 But the change came. The call was heard from 
 Wheeling. The home must be broken up. Many 
 of its sacred things must pass into the hands of 
 strangers, and the home be builded once more amid 
 new scenes. Pilgrims are we all, and strangers, 
 continually striking the tent and moving forward, 
 pitching it but for a night, and the devout heart 
 feeling at each stage of the journey, as eventide 
 comes, that it is : 
 
 "A day's march nearer home " 
 
 And the thought of the Home that will be eter- 
 nal; after the final tent pitching, gives the heart 
 courage in its pilgrimage here. It nerves the arm 
 for the work of taking down and setting up the 
 tent pins, and makes all the labors but brief episodes 
 on the way to the Father's house. 
 
2^2 Me^norial. 
 
 The family were soon installed in their Wheeling 
 home. The feeling of being among strangers now 
 for a time made the home seem doubly dear, and its 
 joys more precious than ever. The work was not 
 interrupted without ; it became more urgent and 
 pressing than ever. But the joy of the home was 
 enhanced by that very cause. The afternoons must 
 be given to the people ; the forenoons to the study. 
 But there were the pleasant evening hours when 
 the entire circle were together, and pleasant talk, 
 and childish readings and plays, even games were in- 
 dulged in, and the labors of the day were forgotten. 
 The weariness of the body and of the brain were 
 unnoticed until the hour for sleep came. 
 
 There were no longer the rides and the walks of 
 the Franklin home ; the gathering of flowers and 
 the weaving of garlands ; the sitting on the porch 
 of Mr. Bowman's house under the soft light of the 
 harvest moon ; these times had passed away, and 
 times of greater care and more earnest work had 
 taken their places. But it was not the less a happy 
 and a joyous home. There were amusements, and 
 cares were transformed into pleasures that were 
 quite as enjoyable and profitable as before, and there 
 was the feeling that the Lord was blessing them in 
 their family and in the church. 
 
 And in this home there came a new joy into the 
 father's soul. With a beating heart and a gladness 
 in his deep eye that could not be kept back, he said 
 to a clerical friend one day in his study : "I rejoice 
 to say that my dear M. has given her heart to her 
 
The Ho7ne Life. 2jj 
 
 Saviour. I think she loves Christ." And he felt 
 more than repaid for the little talks at eventide, and 
 for his prayers when no ear could hear but that of 
 God. Here was the first one of the little flock gath- 
 ered into the Shepherd's fold, although there had 
 been as yet no outward profession : and here the 
 other two daughters in due time made the same 
 confession of Christ. 
 
 In the Wheeling home a new light dawned. A new 
 joy arose in the household. The angels passed by 
 and a little baby was given to the family that was a 
 wellspring of joy, alike to the parents and the old- 
 er children. It was dedicated to God, and as the 
 bright water drops fell upon its upturned brow, it 
 was called Louisa Herron, after a particular friend 
 of the family. It was born January ninth, 1856. 
 
 In this home the time passed rapidly and pleas- 
 antly. The children were growing up, they were 
 to be educated, and this matter was superintended 
 by the parents ; and the kindness and patience and 
 tact of these beloved teachers will long be a mem- 
 ory and a joy to the children. They assisted great- 
 ly in bridging over the ruggedness and the painful- 
 ness and the weariness of this stage of the life 
 journey. The children were not relieved of the 
 labor and thought necessary to the accomplishment 
 of their tasks, yet they were encouraged to put 
 forth all their efforts, and then often found a hint 
 or a suggestion most valuable, as they came just at 
 the right time. And in this way the mysteries of 
 Algebra and the details of Science were unveiled 
 
2J4 Me7norial. 
 
 before them and the difficulties all smoothed out, 
 and the way seemed plain. Parents and children 
 seemed engaged together in the work, and, so the 
 tasks were lightened and divided between those 
 who had been over the ground before and those 
 who were just testing their capabilities in overcom- 
 ing its obstacles. 
 
 Another change came to the home. The call to 
 Baltimore was talked over, and prayed over until 
 the light came, and the way was made clear, as the 
 pillar of cloud gathered itself together and was 
 ready for the march. The home was broken up 
 in Wheeling and established in Lexington Street, 
 Baltimore. Tender ties connected with the old 
 home were sundered ; friends came to say good-bye ; 
 words of farewell were spoken and the new life com- 
 menced amongst strangers. But it was not long 
 before new and very tender ties were formed in the 
 new home. The people of that goodly city that was 
 to be the scene of the new labors gathered around 
 them and the house was soon bright and the work 
 began as it had been broken off, and was carried for- 
 ward with new heart and new zeal. Soon everything 
 was moving on as usual. The children were grow- 
 ing up ; new studies were undertaken ; new duties 
 varied the every day round of life. Yet these new 
 duties to the church were not in the way of the 
 home duties. The study and the afternoon calls 
 were adhered to with more zeal than ever, yet there 
 was always time for the family circle. There 
 was always the sweet sunshine that was brought 
 
The Home Life. 2j^ 
 
 in from the street ; and the yet sweeter light brought 
 down from the study when the labor of books and 
 pen and severe thought were over. And then, in 
 the light of the home circle, the cares of the profes- 
 sion seemed to roll from his shoulders, the wrinkles 
 of toil seemed to smooth out and he was young and 
 genial as ever. And the family circle was bright- 
 ened \\Y> at his approach and new cheerfulness seem- 
 ed to be infused into the hearts of each one in his 
 presence. 
 
 A member of the household writes these appre- 
 ciative words in regard to his influence in the men- 
 tal and religious culture of the children : 
 
 "I sometimes feel what a great blessing it would 
 have been to us if father with his. . . . capabilities 
 could have personally conducted our education. 
 But if he had done so he would not have done the 
 great work he did for the Master : and after all. . . 
 . . it may have been a greater blessing tons to have 
 his example of unselfish devotion to the highest 
 ends. All his influence over us was to lead us to 
 the best and highest mental and spiritual culture. 
 
 "He thought so much of gentle, attractive man- 
 ners, and so often begged us to modulate our voices 
 and to avoid slang. In almost every letter to us he 
 would say: 'Nulla dies sine linea,' or 'The pen is 
 mightier than the sword.' 
 
 ''With our young friends he was very genial and 
 pleasant, having his jokes and teasing as well as his 
 more serious conversation." 
 
 The family seemed on an equality in almost every 
 
2j6 Memorial. 
 
 respect. The father would talk to the children as 
 though they were equals in every way. Their in- 
 terests were his interests, and he would come down 
 to their capacity in their younger years and talk as 
 a little child, and make them feel that he could en- 
 ter into their feelings in every respect ; and the con- 
 sequence was that there w:as perfect confidence be- 
 tween them on all subjects and their highest and 
 best interests were greatly promoted. And the 
 good influence of this early training will be felt in 
 the household throughout the lives of its members. 
 When the father had been absent from home on 
 any of his trips, it was always a great treat to 
 the children of the household to have a nar- 
 rative of his travels. He would sit down in the 
 midst of them and patiently relate all that had hap- 
 pened from the time of setting out until his return. 
 All the incidents were related, and what he saw and 
 what he heard, always mingling instruction as well 
 as entertainment in the narrative. Perhaps the 
 journey had been out to Rock Island to see his fath- 
 er. Then the incidents of the steamboat voyage 
 were to be related. The views of the Ohio and 
 Mississippi were to be described ; the outcroppings 
 of the Magnesian Limestone, running zig-zag in its 
 course and resembling the ruins of old castles on 
 the Rhine were noted, and the general make up of 
 the passenger list was commented on. Possibly 
 the story was about a run across the great prairie, 
 amid the waving of grass and among the bright 
 blooms of the nichniddy, or the great brilliant clus- 
 
The Home Life. 2jj 
 
 ters of the wild lilies, not forgetting the prairie 
 chickens, nor the cunning looking prairie dogs, that 
 would sit up on their hind feet on the top of the 
 little mounds that were over their dwellings, and 
 bark until the near approach of travellers and then 
 dive head foremost into their subterraneous houses. 
 
 And so the whole journey would be lived over 
 again and the whole household would get an idea 
 of all that was interesting in the trip. And this 
 familiarity was kept up with the children until they 
 grew up and went out into homes of their own, and 
 there was always a feeling of love for their old home 
 and the delightful times they had enjoyed, by those 
 who had established homes of their own. 
 
 The following extract of a letter from another 
 member of the home circle gives such a delightful 
 picture of the life of the father and friend that it is 
 here introduced : 
 
 •' There were no great events in our home life to 
 mark it — the charm was the atmosphere of love, 
 the perfect confidence that existed between parent 
 and children. I always felt that my father was a very 
 busy man — at work all the time. He was up early 
 in the morning, and, after the never-omitted cold 
 bath, went to his study for his private devotions, till 
 breakfast time. No one ever went to the study 
 then. I remember from my early childhood his 
 prayers at worship, always suited to the emergen- 
 cies of each day, the joy or sorrow of every mem- 
 ber of the household tenderly remembered, and an 
 enthusiasm kindled to live the day for Jesus. Af- 
 
2j8 Memorial. 
 
 ter breakfast the mornings were spent by father in 
 his study. In the afternoon he was busy in pas- 
 toral work, or as we used to call it **pastorial visits." 
 
 ** As we children studied at home, when we were 
 young, our amusements were in a measure colored 
 by father's employments, we made little stories and 
 poetry, editing papers, and we kept diaries. This last 
 was father's especial request. He gave us all blank 
 books, asking us to keep daily records of our lives, 
 and reminding us of the book of remembrance that 
 our "Father in Heaven" was keeping for us. 
 
 '■' There was always a great deal of company at our 
 house. Most of them were bright, intelligent peo- 
 ple. We children enjoyed the frequent talks on 
 politics, literature and religion. The Manse table 
 was seldom without " angels unawares " who often 
 left the impress of their character on the young 
 folks. 
 
 *' Father always took an interest in everything that 
 concerned his children. Our friends were his 
 friends. I have often seen him devote his rare con- 
 versational powers to interest or draw out some 
 shy young girl or bashful youth. Fatherless girls 
 were especially his care. His tenderness and sym- 
 pathy for them was great. 
 
 Even in his busiest times he seldom omitted call- 
 ing all of us and mother into the study on Sunday 
 afternoons to say the catechism ; he would explain 
 the answers and talk to us on personal religion. 
 He often spoke to us of his mother then, how she 
 used to catechise her children. I remember one 
 
The Ho7iie Life, 2j^ 
 
 Sunday when we came to " The souls of believers 
 are at their death," &c., he told as that this was the 
 theme she explained and talked about the last Sun- 
 day he was with her. You know she was especially 
 precious to him always. 
 
 *' My dear father was so bright and joyous in his 
 home, so full of wit and repartee, his sense of the 
 humorous was so keen, and his amusing stories so 
 well told — my memories of family life are full of 
 sunshine. I cannot remember a harsh word or 
 anything that he ever said or did that I could have 
 wished different. I would go to him in every trou- 
 ble or dilemma sure of his sympathy and his pru- 
 dent counsel. And in every pleasant thing that 
 happened his enthusiasm made enjoyment newer." 
 
 Another member of the home circle thus writes : 
 
 " One thing that characterized my father was 
 prayerfulness. Our family worship never became 
 a mere formality. Morning and evening all the 
 household old and young, servants, visitors, extra 
 work people were gathered to it, and in its prayers 
 mention was made of all that interested us. On 
 our birthdays there were special petitions. If a 
 guest was expected, a pleasant and profitable visit 
 was asked, and if one were departing, a safe jour- 
 ney was invoked. I remember one friend writing 
 of a marked deliverance in a railway accident that 
 seemed to her and her husband a direct answer to 
 the supplications at our family altar that morning. 
 As soon as one of us could " lead a tune " there 
 
2^0 Memorial, 
 
 was always singing, as had been the custom in his 
 boyhood home. Whenever any perplexity or criti- 
 cal question arose there was prayer with those of 
 us who were with him. From my earliest remem- 
 brance we used to be called to his study on Sabbath 
 afternoons to be catechized, prayed with, and talked 
 to individually about our souls. I was always able 
 to speak more freely with my pen than with my 
 tongue, and so sometimes to me he would write, 
 and give me the missive to read and answer. Be- 
 fore me now is such a letter, dated when I was ten 
 years old, urging my responsibility and duty to God 
 and those around me, so full of a father's tender so- 
 licitude. This solicitude was not confined to his 
 own children, but there were few to whom he did 
 not speak on the subject of personal religion." 
 
 At the Baltimore home the shadows fell very 
 darkly one day, and the light of the house seemed 
 to go out at noonday. It was on the fourth day of 
 November, 1857. Death came to the little child 
 that had won such a place alike in the hearts of 
 parents and older sisters. The flower that had 
 bloomed so sweetly faded in its first brightness. 
 The sickness came, the pain, the weariness, and 
 wrote lines of weakness and suffering upon the 
 brow that had always been so full of smiles. And 
 then the change came. The angels bore the little 
 one into the bosom of the Saviour, when all the 
 lines of suffering faded out, and the little sleeper 
 smiled more sweetly than she had ever done in life, 
 for the light of the vision of the angels seemed to 
 
The Home Life. 2//.! 
 
 linger on every feature of her countenance, and the 
 parents felt that it was well with the child, as they 
 heard the voice of the Lord in the sweet echoes that 
 come down from the days of his flesh : " Suffer lit- 
 tle children to come unto me, and forbid them not, 
 for of such is the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 And whilst there were the aching hearts and bit- 
 ter tears at the departure of the little one, there 
 was at the same time the consciousness that it was 
 at rest, and that the shadows would never fall upon 
 its pathway, and that there would be' a glad meet- 
 ing in the Father's house, where " the inhabitant 
 shall no more say I am sick, and where the home 
 circle shall not be broken forever. And with these 
 thoughts, cheerfulness came into the house once 
 more, although the child was not forgotten, and the 
 active duties of life went on as before, 
 
 The following extract from a letter to his father 
 express something of the parent's feeling : 
 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 "Bait." Dec. 3, '57. 
 *' You have known often, but I never did until 
 our pet was taken, what it is to have one s own 
 child diQ. It is a great thing, and I trust it will 
 help me to sympathize more tenderly with those in 
 sorrow hereafter. We have those in the better 
 country to welcome her, above all the chief Shep- 
 herd is there, who takes the lambs in His arms and 
 carries them in His bosom." 
 
242 Memorial. 
 
 Jan. 38. 
 The little chair at our table was empty, the pat- 
 tering of little feet was not heard. The last year 
 has given us a great and sad experience of immor- 
 tality. We start out on the journey of this new 
 year less confident of reaching its end. The road 
 is less safe and less certain to us since our sorrow." 
 
 The following extract from a letter written by 
 one of the bereaved circle will convey an idea alike 
 of the circumstances and the feeling under this be- 
 reavement : 
 
 " The death of little Louisa was a great shock to 
 him as well as to us all. She was much younger 
 than the other three of us, and so was a household 
 pet. When old enough to walk she would go back and 
 forth between my mother's room and the study, and 
 was as much indulged in the latter as in the former. 
 "Seeing him write she would wish to do the same, 
 and he would give her ink, paper and pens to use as 
 she willed. There is still among our relics a Presby- 
 terial Report covered with her last scribblings, 
 which she ended as usual by emptying the little ink- 
 stand on her paper. November 3d, 1857, my father 
 left home, taking us two older children to school, and 
 the baby stood at the window, the picture of health, 
 kissing her hand as we drove away. He returned the 
 following day at noon, and was met at the station by 
 one of his dear friends with the tidings that the lit- 
 tle one had just died after an illness of a few hours. 
 We were sent for and reached home the 5 th, and I 
 
The Home Life. 2^j 
 
 remember while we daughters and mother sat with 
 him in the study he read from his Greek Testament 
 — the same that was his companion till the last days 
 of his life — the ever-consoling words of ist Thessa- 
 lonians, iv: 13-18. The funeral was at our home 
 in Lexington Street, on Friday, November 6th, Dr. 
 Smith conducting the service, and other pastors be- 
 ing the pall-bearers. 
 
 ** On the Sabbath morning after her death he 
 preached from Psalm viii. 2. '* Out of the mouth 
 of babes and sucklings Thou has ordained strength," 
 — the text he had chosen early in the week, before 
 the coming of his bereavement." 
 
 The following extract of a letter from a valued 
 friend in another State is so appreciative, and at the 
 same time so just, that it is inserted here. The 
 home described had been enjoyed, and its beauties 
 noted : 
 
 " Brilliant and successful as Dr. Dickson was in 
 public life, those who knew him only there knew 
 nothing of the most delightful side of his many 
 sided nature. It was in the home, surrounded by 
 the appreciative family, that he was most attractive 
 and charming. There the earnest preacher, the 
 magnetic orator, the enthusiastic worker, and the 
 genial gentleman were merged into the tender and 
 devoted husband and father, the entertaining and in- 
 structive companion, and the household guide and 
 friend. 
 
 "Though of nervous temperament and given to 
 exhaustive work, it was not in his nature to expend 
 
2^4 Memorial. 
 
 his best gifts abroad, and theii leave for home use 
 only worn out energies and the nervous irritability so 
 common to literary men. His keenest wit and live- 
 liest sallies, as well as his deepest emotions, were re- 
 served for his family circle, in which, it seemed to 
 the familiar friend that, all the domestic virtues 
 were most beautifully illustrated. 
 
 "To the lovely, cultured wife, and the bright, intel- 
 ligent daughters whose education had been the par- 
 ents' joint care — he came for rest and refreshment ; 
 and in the family life, mirth and music, jest and 
 games were admirably blended with more serious 
 things, and study and solid reading were so judicious- 
 ly seasoned with the best works of fiction and poetry 
 that it was refreshment to any favored one who 
 shared the family life. Like a band of sisters and 
 brothers they dwelt together, sharing each other's 
 labors, joys and griefs, having books and friends in 
 common — stimulating each other to clever rhyme 
 and repartee, as well as to all manner of good works, 
 and, while this cup of human happiness was held 
 in the steady hand of the perfectly balanced mother, 
 the father's wit and humor kept a perpetual sparkle 
 on the brim. 
 
 *' The family were never banished from the study 
 — as it was familiarly called, and, in return, the 
 father, sometimes with gown and book, would visit 
 the family rooms, where often some privileged guest 
 was made welcome, and interest himself in the 
 minor details of everything that concerned or in- 
 terested the rest. 
 
The Home Life, 24^ 
 
 "As a host he was perfect, with cordial greeting 
 and wonderful consideration, dispensing hospitality 
 as if he ever felt he might be entertaining angels 
 unawares. 
 
 *' It seems to me that no words are too warm or 
 glowing to use in speaking of Dr. Dickson's home 
 life. It is impossible to tell it all ; I only know that 
 while his loss to the Church and the cause of 
 Home Missions is irreparable, there is many and 
 many an old parishioner and friend, who, with his 
 family, is sorrowing most of all that they shall see 
 his face no more at all in that dear home circle, and 
 that his chair is vacant by that fireside." 
 
 There was this distinguishing feature about the 
 home that marked it from the day it was established 
 at Franklin until its final setting up at Baltimore : 
 this was its hospitality. There was always a place 
 at the board and in the guest chamber for the friend, 
 for the minister, and for their households. As in the 
 Shunem home, there was the chamber on the wall, 
 with the bed and stool and candlestick, where the 
 weary prophet might turn in and find a welcome 
 rest. And there was this most delightful way of 
 dispensing hospitality — every one was made to feel 
 at home. No guest could for a moment feel that 
 the presence of strangers made any change in the 
 arrangement of the household. Everything seemed 
 to go on as usual. The family did not seem to be 
 disturbed by the presence of the guest, and the 
 guest was not disturbed by any unnecessary atten- 
 tion on the part of the family. One quite familiar 
 
2^6 Memorial. 
 
 with the home life m New York remarks : *' One 
 thing he felt most deeply the last ten years was the 
 want of a home where he could gather his friends 
 around him." 
 
 Dr. Dickson knew well how to make his friends 
 at ease in his home. With that ease and suavity 
 and politeness of which he was master, he could 
 make any one who entered his house feel easy and 
 comfortable, and when they left, the guests were 
 almost persuaded that they had conferred the favor, 
 and not the master of the house. Yet with all this 
 there was no merely empty display of feeling nor of 
 sentiment. It was the natural feeling of the man ; 
 it was his native politeness giving expression to the 
 feelings of his heart. 
 
 But the change came yet once more, and the 
 Baltimore home was broken up at the call of the 
 church. The Board of Missions must be served. 
 It was the voice of the church. It seemed to the 
 busy pastor the voice of the Lord, and like Abra- 
 ham of old he struck his tent and ''journeyed, still 
 going toward the South." The home was trans- 
 ferred to New York. And in'the great city with its 
 busy scenes he had less time than ever for the com- 
 forts and pleasures of home. But when the day's 
 work was over he was glad to find rest for a time 
 in the home where he had fixed his abode as a mere 
 stepping stone to work. 
 
 During the ten years' sojourn in New York, the 
 circumstances of the home were somewhat changed. 
 Housekeeping was interrupted and rooms were occu- 
 
The Home Life. 24^ 
 
 pied in the upper part of the city. The time of the 
 Secretary was called for at the Mission Rooms, and 
 little was seen of him save in the evenings. All 
 the sweet amenities of home were kept in view as 
 before, yet there was the early departure for the of- 
 fice in the mornings, and the return in the even- 
 ings, weary, jaded and exhausted, when cheerful- 
 ness became almost an effort, and when the light 
 seemed almost to go out in his home nature. But 
 he took the same interest in his home. He strove 
 to be cheerful and to keep up the old ways of the 
 household, and to make home happy as before. 
 
 The members of this family were not numerous, 
 but they formed a circle that was almost com- 
 plete in itself, as far as completeness can be predi- 
 cated of anything in this world. When the work 
 of the other members of the household is done here, 
 there will be a glad re-union in the realm of the 
 beautiful And this reunion of a family, all of whose 
 associations were so pure and good and lovely, will 
 be a scene to make the angels glad, and will add 
 new glories to the home where all God's people will 
 find their rest and their joy forever I 
 
X. THE EVENING AND THE MORN- 
 ING. 
 
 *'/ have looked with wonder upon those who, in sor- 
 row and privation, and bodily discomfort, and sickness, 
 zvJiich is the shadozv of death, have worked right on 
 to the accomplisJiment of their great purposes ; toiling 
 snitch, enduring nmch, fulfilling much : — and then, 
 ivith shattered nei ves, and sinews all unstrung, have 
 laid themselves down in the grave, and slept the sleep 
 of death — and the world talks of them while they 
 sleepy 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 "/ have fought a good fight, I have finished my 
 course, I have kept the faith : henceforth tJiere is laid 
 tip for me a crozvn of righteousness ^ 
 
 iL Tim. IV. 7, 8. 
 
X. THE EVENING AND THE MORNING. 
 
 It is related of a celebrated French Marshall who 
 fell in battle at the head of his army, that his name 
 was still continued on the roll, and called with those 
 of the other ofBcers, when a soldier would cry out : 
 "Dead on the field." In this way there was a con- 
 tinual remembrance of the dead soldier and of his 
 prowess in battle. And if it were proper that such 
 honor should be paid to any soldier in the Church 
 militant, it would be most worthily bestowed on our 
 departed officer. He stood in the forefront of the 
 battle in this noble cause of Home Missions, giving 
 his strength and vigor of mature manhood to it, la- 
 boring for it in season and out of season ; laboring 
 with pen and personal argument ; laboring in the of- 
 fice ; but laboring most effectively of all in the great 
 Assemblies of the Church ; waking up its energies ; 
 stimulating its zeal ; and going forward in the very 
 van of the march of the Church, and leading it as it 
 had never been led before in this great work of 
 evangelizing this wonderful country for God and his 
 Christ. 
 
 How the prophetic view of this country's great- 
 ness, that seemed revealed to him, was conveyed 
 to the church by his public addresses, the church 
 itself is witness and will abundantly testify. And 
 
2^2 Memorial. 
 
 now that he has passed away if it can be said of any 
 one of our dead heroes with precise and literal truth ; 
 ''Dead on the field," it can be so proclaimed of our 
 late Secretary, 
 
 From the Madison Assembly the way led to New 
 York, thence to Norwich, Connecticut, where he 
 enjoyed the tender ministries of careful and watch- 
 ful friends. Then the family went to Pittsford, Ver- 
 mont, where the summer was to be passed, near the 
 mountains, and where it was hoped the grateful 
 shades of the country might bring comfort and peace. 
 Daily exercise was taken, with long rides along the 
 country roads, where the meadows and the wheat- 
 fields lay on either side, and where the notes of the 
 robin and the brown thrush reminded him of his 
 boyhood's home. At other times they would take 
 walks down through the meadows and by the side 
 of the cornfields ; and then they would climb away 
 up the rugged mountain's side, seeking wild flowers, 
 and bringing home the bright golden rods and the 
 sweet Williams and the meadow pinks and violets. 
 It reminded them of the early Franklin home, and 
 the delightful days when the world was all new in 
 the way of professional life. Then, when the weather 
 was unpleasant, books would be procured from the 
 village library and the time would be spent in 
 reading. 
 
 In these quiet pursuits the summer glided by, 
 Se2:)tember came, and with it the return to Norwich, 
 and then to New York, where a little necessary busi- 
 ness was transacted, and then on to Philadelphia to 
 
The Evenmg and the Morning. 2^3 
 
 visit a dear friend. Here, in the society of cheerful 
 and cultivated friends, the days passed very pleasant- 
 ly ; here too he attended and enjoyed many of the 
 meetings of the Presbyterian Council. From Phila- 
 delphia he went to Baltimore, where a house had 
 been already secured. 
 
 All his people had been kind, but Baltimore had 
 been the last place of his ministry, and his remem- 
 brances of that people and that place were very vivid 
 and very grateful to him ; and the thought of pass- 
 ing his last days amongst the people whom he had 
 gathered into the fold and had been instrumental in 
 edifying and comforting and strengthening in the 
 Gospel commended itself to his heart. There was 
 the hope at times of further labor and further service 
 in the Board. This work was still at times in his 
 heart. He could not get entirely away from the 
 thoughts- and plans and purposes that had borne like 
 a mighty burden on his heart for the last ten years. 
 Then the feeling of great weakness would come 
 over him and he would reflect on the situation as 
 being in the Lord's keeping: "The Lord is very 
 strong ; He is infinite in His resources ; He can carry 
 on the work without my poor help ; perhaps I have 
 depended too much on this frail arm of flesh, and 
 have had too much confidence in this poor judgment 
 of my own : the Lord will do what is right and 
 best." 
 
 For a while after returning to Baltimore he walk- 
 ed about the streets and was delighted to meet and 
 converse with his old' friends, who exerted them- 
 
2S4 Memorial. 
 
 selves to cheer him and to throw sunlight upon his 
 pathway. He attended Westminster and other 
 churches, but only as a hearer. 
 
 His hand had not forgotten its cunning, nor had 
 his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, yet there 
 was too much physical weakness for preaching, 
 and the nervous system was too severely shaken 
 for any public service. 
 
 But he was glad to hear the Gospel. It was sweet- 
 ness and comfort to his soul, and he could appreciate 
 in all its fulness the comforts of Gospel hearing, as 
 they had often been represented to him by his 
 hearers in his old pastoral days. 
 
 In the early summer of 1881 he made a visit to 
 his older brother, John, who resides near Rock Is- 
 land, Illinois, His father had fallen asleep years 
 before, and the only brothers and sisters he had 
 living, resided in that neighborhood. He enjoyed 
 this visit very much. Much of the old feeling of 
 oppression remained, but it was almost forgotten 
 in the gentle ministries of his family and relatives. 
 He and his brother John would sit out under the 
 shadows of the apple trees and talk by the hour of 
 the old, delightful days of the past, — their boyhood 
 days — their sports — their youthful dreams, their 
 hopes for the life just opening out before them, and 
 of the bright golden future they anticipated. Then 
 they would talk of their own personal hopes of 
 heaven, their faith in Christ and their enjoyment of 
 His service. Then their conversation would take a 
 tenderer turn, and they would speak of the depart- 
 
The Evening and the Morning, 2^§ 
 
 ed ones ; the mother with the soft voice, and eyes 
 so deep and sweet, who had led them to the Saviour, 
 and who was now in glory awaiting their coming. 
 Then they would talk of their father with his great, 
 strong nature, and his trust in God ; and then they 
 would speak of others of their friends who had gone 
 up to be with the Lord, and try to imagine what the 
 feeling would be to meet and strike hands with all 
 these glorified ones in the courts of the Lord's 
 House when all would be perfect and holy forever ! 
 The return to the Baltimore home once more 
 brought something of rest to the physical system, 
 but there was still the feeling of unrest to the 
 brain. It had been overworked, perhaps uncon- 
 sciously, yet still overtasked, and the results were 
 following — a feeling of constant, oppressive weari- 
 ness by day and by night. That delicately strung 
 nervous system had been overstrained, and now was 
 relaxing and could not be brought into harmony 
 again. That great active brain so full of schemes 
 for the good of the Church and the welfare of men 
 had been overtaxed. The blood that had been 
 forced up from as manly a heart as ever beat in a 
 human bosom had flooded that brain, as he had 
 labored in public discourse, until its fine organism 
 had been injured and its strength was sapped. The 
 time was drawing near when the golden cord should 
 be loosed ; when the golden bowl should be broken ; 
 when the pitcher should be broken at the fountain 
 and the wheel broken at the cistern. 
 
2^6 Memorial. 
 
 Nor was all this unexpected nor unrealized by 
 Dr. Dickson. Long before he had left the office at 
 New York he had spoken of his decease, which he 
 should accomplish, ere long, perhaps in the Secreta- 
 ry's chair. He remembered his mother's sudden 
 departure ; he had knowledge of his own frail con- 
 stitution, although he had very sekiom been sick, 
 and had spoken to a few intimate friends of the 
 probability that he would ere long be called away 
 from earth. But the thought gave him neither pain 
 nor uneasiness. It was a part of the history of 
 every life, and would be a part of his own history, 
 and he could look upon it without fear and with 
 calmness and tranquility. He had looked at the 
 change too often to be distressed at the thought of 
 its coming ; he had made the matter a study, and 
 the prospect of the coming life in Christ was pleas- 
 ant, and the hope of seeing the Saviour in His glo- 
 ry was most delightful. And if the work here was 
 done ; if the warfare was accomplished, and the 
 Lord had need of him in the perfect kingdom, then 
 His will be done. 
 
 He was no longer seen on the street. Latterly 
 it had been noticed that his footsteps had become 
 slow and wearisome ; he did not notice, as quickly 
 as he had been wont, the faces of his friends, and 
 his greetings were not as quick and animated 
 as formerly. The weariness was oppressing him, 
 and the day came when he went forth no more from 
 his house. Anxious inquiries came to the home ; 
 friends called to sympathize, but there was need of 
 
The Eventing and the Morning, 2§y 
 
 rest and quiet, and he seldom saw those who called- 
 in his own quiet chamber, ministered to by ten- 
 der hands, and cared for by a devoted family, all 
 was peace. Disease still made progress and wasted 
 his system, yet his mind was calm and his faith 
 was fixed on God. Sometimes the oppressed brain 
 gave less light than usual ; at other times he was 
 his old self, full of cheerfulness and comfort and 
 hope. His days passed as do the natural days — 
 sometimes the cloud, the darkness, the shutting in 
 of cheerfulness ; at others the calm, sweet sun- 
 shine, the odor of blossoms, and the singing of 
 birds. And in those pleasant, sunlit days, now so 
 sweet to his family to remember, there was so much 
 calmness and cheerfulness, and hope, and joy, that 
 it seemed as though the whole atmosphere was full 
 of fragrance and the voice of singing. 
 
 In the month of June, 1881, feeling that he could 
 no longer hope to return to the duties of the office, 
 Dr. Dickson sent in his formal resignation. This 
 was accepted by the Board with many expressions of 
 sorrow for the ground of the resignation, and of sym- 
 pathy with him in his afflictions. This resignation 
 caused the Secretary many a feeling of regret. It 
 was a work he had enjoyed to the full, with all its 
 perplexities and difficulties. It was adapted to his 
 tastes, and had become so much a matter of habit 
 that it was almost like giving up his home and his 
 household. Still, in this, as in other things, there 
 was the disposition to bow to the mind of Provi- 
 dence, and to say ''the will of the Lord be done." 
 
2^8 Memorial, 
 
 It is probable that up to this time he had felt 
 that perhaps his health might be restored, through 
 God's blessing attending medical advice and cessa- 
 tion from labor. But now it was evident that other 
 hands must take up the work where he had laid it 
 down, and other hearts bear the burden he had 
 borne so long, and so the letter was sent in for the 
 acceptance of the Board. 
 
 There is something inexpressibly solemn in lay- 
 ing down a great work and feeling that it is for the 
 last time. The memories of the past gather, and 
 its voices are in the ear sad and mournful as the 
 wind sighing through the majestic pine forest. 
 There are possibilities and hopes and expectations 
 all laid to rest. The book is closed and sealed, like 
 that of the one in the Apocalypse, with seven seals, 
 and but awaits the future. 
 
 It was with sorrow that the Board accepted the 
 resignation of one who had spent ten of the best 
 years of his life in serving the church under its di- 
 rection. His genial manners, his- great power as a 
 public speaker in behalf of Home Missions and his 
 entire devotion to the work had greatly endeared him 
 to the members of the Board as well as to the 
 missionaries and to the Church at large. In part- 
 ing with him the Board adopted and placed on its 
 books the following : 
 
 "Minute on the resignation of Dr. Dickson, adopt- 
 ed by the Board of Home Missions, June i8, 1881. 
 
 In accepting the resignation of Rev. Dr. Dickson 
 as one of its Secretaries, the Board of Home Mis- 
 sions desires to say — 
 
The Eveniiig and the Morning. 2§g 
 
 1st. That it gives them unfeigned sorrow to be 
 compelled, by reason of his protracted illness, to ac- 
 cede to this request, for it severs a connection that 
 has lasted nearly eleven years, and deprives them 
 of the pleasant smiles and kindly greetings, every 
 month, of a brother beloved and a co-laborer in the 
 Masters's vineyard. 
 
 2nd. That by this act the Church is deprived of 
 the eloquence that has often roused her pastors, 
 elders and members to consider the spiritual desti- 
 tution of this broad land, of the efficient services of 
 one of the most conscientious and devoted of her 
 officers, and of a representative always welcome at 
 the meetings of Synods and Presbyteries. 
 
 3rd. That, while they bow submissively to the 
 ordering of Providence which renders the resigna- 
 tion a necessity, they will still continue to pray 
 that God may soon restore his servant to his accus- 
 tomed health, and make him more useful than ever 
 in the Church and in the world. 
 
 4th. That they deeply sympathize with Doctor 
 Dickson and his dear family in this sore affliction, 
 and commend them to God and the word of His 
 grace, which is able to build them up, and to give 
 them an inheritance among all them which are 
 sanctified." 
 
 Although confined to his house and shut out from 
 the scenes of activity, such as he had been accus- 
 tomed to in the years of the past, the time 
 did not seem long. There was the reading of the 
 Word, the discussion of the religious and secular 
 
26o Memorial. 
 
 news of the day, the news from friends who sent 
 their greetings, and at times the faces of friends 
 bearing sunshine into his room, and the days really 
 seemed short although there was the feeling of 
 waiting. 
 
 After separating himself from all farther thought 
 of labor in the future there was more of the inward 
 communion with his own soul. There was the 
 looking forward to the close not only of actual con- 
 tact with work, but with the work itself. There 
 was the feeling that the time of the departure was 
 drawing nigh. 
 
 During these waiting days, the presence of his 
 little grandchildren, who often came to see him, was 
 a source of never ending pleasure to him. He lov- 
 ed to have them curl themselves up by his side, as 
 he reclined on the sofa or on his bed, and go to 
 sleep under his protection ; then, when they awoke, 
 he loved to look into their fresh young eyes and 
 try to sound their depths, and to talk to them in the 
 most simple manner and listen to their innocent 
 prattle, and be charmed from his weariness by their 
 young, strong natures. It was one of the charac- 
 teristics of the man to love the presence and the 
 prattle of little babies. His heart went out to them, 
 and he was never too busy nor too weary to give 
 them his attention. 
 
 After the rest of the night and the morning re- 
 freshment, he desired, first of all, to have the word 
 of God read to him, then some restful religious book, 
 then portions of the newspapers of the day. Dur- 
 
The Evening a7id the Morning. 261 
 
 ing this reading he often made remarks showing 
 his interest in the subject, and his appreciation of 
 the matter read. Then, if able, he conversed about 
 general topics, evincing an interest in things that 
 were passing, and a pleasure in the prosperity of 
 the church. And during all his confinement to 
 his couch, until unconsciousness approached, he al- 
 ways asked the blessing of God on his meals as 
 they were brought to him ; and at such times he al- 
 ways remembered the faithful colored servant, Julie, 
 who brought them, with a smile and a word of thanks. 
 Sometimes, however, during these last days his ner- 
 vous system was so much disturbed and his unrest 
 so great, that these pleasant scenes were interrupt- 
 ed, and the shadows would gather around him. 
 But the sunshine would break in and he would be 
 cheerful and hopeful and joyful once more, and de- 
 lighted to hear the word and to talk about the pre- 
 ciousness of Jesus. At such times there was many 
 a delightful interview with his immediate friends, 
 with words and smiles and hopes and prospects sug- 
 gested and talked over and anticipated. But these 
 scenes seem almost as sacred as the interview of 
 Moses and Elijah with the Lord, on the Mount of 
 Transfiguration, when they spake of his decease 
 which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. They 
 are just now all too sacred to be discussed, and 
 must remain locked up in the memory and conscious- 
 ness of those who were present, and who watch and 
 wait until the time of the re-union shall come. 
 But there was no time when he did not feel the 
 
262 Memorial. 
 
 strong Rock beneath his feet. There was not a 
 moment when he did not feel underneath him the 
 everlasting arms, as he quietly waited for the morn- 
 ing, and knew that it would soon dawn. It needed 
 not that there should be the long, minute testimo- 
 ny, as heart and flesh were failing, that the Lord was 
 with him. It needed not, for the comfort of his 
 friends, or the faith of the Church, that he should 
 utter last words of testimony that he died a Chris- 
 tian. For fifty years his life and his words had all 
 testified to this. From the day when he had stood 
 up in the old North East church, when fourteen 
 years of age, and solemnly and publicly professed 
 to be the Lord's, his whole life had been a solemn, 
 earnest testimony to his faith in Jesus. And now, 
 as a matter of course, when the end was approach- 
 ing, he felt that Jesus was more precious to his soul 
 than ever. 
 
 On Monday, the twenty-fifth of July, he was out 
 of his rooms for the last time, but walked from one 
 to the other until within a few. days of his death. 
 From this time he saw no one but the family and 
 the physicians. His depression vanished, and he 
 thought and conversed only of pleasant things. 
 The past came back to him, and its memories were 
 all golden. He talked of his boyhood's days ; of 
 the home by the lake side ; of the swelling music 
 of the grand lake, and of the old church and the 
 people he had known when life was new. And for 
 every one he had words of commendation. Then 
 he would talk of his -college days and the scenes 
 
The Eveiiifig and the Morning. 26 j 
 
 and recollections that are always so pleasant to a 
 student : and everything seemed bathed in a soft, 
 mellow light that gave him so much pleasure and joy. 
 
 The thoughtful kindness of his friends — their 
 messages of love — their little -offerings of fruits and 
 flowers — touched him greatly. The tears would of- 
 ten gather as he would respond "How kind and 
 thoughtful." 
 
 The early days of September came, and it was 
 evident to his friends that the angels were waiting 
 for the beloved one, and that he was lingering on 
 the very threshold of this life, and just ready to 
 pass over to the life that is beyond. On the third 
 he spoke with difficulty, and could take nothing but 
 fluid nourishment. On Friday, the ninth, the shad- 
 ows began falling thickly, and on Saturday, the 
 tenth, he was unconscious. For two days he re- 
 mained shut out from all that was passing here. 
 Whether he was conscious of the coming of the 
 Lord ; whether he had visions of the angels and the 
 open gates, as Stephen had, we do not know ; no 
 mortal can tell. 
 
 "Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do." 
 
 But the morning came at last ; the day dawned, 
 and the shadows fled away, and henceforth to him 
 there was to be no more night, but that glorious, 
 blessed day where the shadows never fall. 
 
 During these two days he had lain entirely pas- 
 sive, with closed eyes, apparently unconscious of 
 all that was passing, yet with a smile so sweet and 
 
264 Memorial. 
 
 heavenly wreathing his countenance that it seemed 
 as though there was an inner vision sweeter and 
 more beautiful than any that belongs to this world. 
 There must have been the glory of the Lord, that 
 left its beautiful reflection on his countenance and 
 testified to God's wonderful faithfulness when heart 
 and flesh were failing. 
 
 An enthusiastic traveler once approached the 
 walls of the Holy City, Jerusalem. And as he traced 
 the outlines of its gray walls, and gate, and tower, 
 and bartizan were revealed to his eager vision, the 
 wonderful memories of the past clustered around 
 him, sweet and beautiful as the night visions when 
 the stars come out in their splendor. David was 
 there tuning his harp to the songs of Zion. The 
 gorgeous train of Solomon swept by in all its glory, 
 and disappeared around the shoulder of Mount Zion. 
 Prophets and kings mingled in the scene ; and, as 
 they disappeared. He who was greater than all the 
 prophets and kings, followed by his disciples, came 
 up from the way to Jericho, and down the side of 
 Olivet, and across the valley of the Kedron, and in 
 at the golden gate, amid the waving of palms and 
 the cries of "■ hosanna to the son of David ! " And 
 the pilgrim's heart thrilled, and his pulse leaped un- 
 der the excitement of the scene and its blessed 
 memories. And as he crossed the threshold of the 
 Jaffa Gate, the words of the Psalmist came to his 
 mind, sweet as the melody of flutes, ** My feet 
 shall stand within thy gates O Jerusalem ! As we 
 have heard so have we seen in the city of the Lord 
 of Hosts, in the city of our God !" 
 
The Evening aftd the Morning. 26^ 
 
 So it must have been on that sweet September 
 morning, just as the Sabbath bells were ringing 
 upon earth, and the yet sweeter bells were ringing 
 in heaven, and God's servant, just ready for the 
 transfiguration scene, caught his first glimpse of the 
 amethystine walls, and the wide open gates, and the 
 soft light of God shimmering through, and listened 
 to the faintly heard strains of the music that was 
 wafted down, and noticed the thickly gathering 
 hosts of the angels ; and, sweeter and fairer and 
 more beautiful than all — "One like to the Son of 
 Man " beckoning him up to the light, up to the glo- 
 ry, up to the home of the redeemed. There was 
 joy in his heart, born not of earth, but of heaven. 
 And that joy was expressing itself, not in words, but 
 wreathing his countenance with smiles, and giving 
 him, who can doubt, a most delightful foretaste of 
 the glory of heaven. 
 
 God never forgets his children, either in the clouds 
 or in the sunshine ; and when to the poor vision of 
 sense everything is fading and vanishing away, to 
 the blessed experience of faith His arm seems 
 strongest. His word seems sweetest, and His pres- 
 ence most real and comforting. 
 
 And so he passed in to stand before the throne ! 
 It was early morning upon earth, the morning of 
 the eleventh day of September, 1881, which was 
 the Sabbath, when he went up with the convoy of 
 angels to pass through the gates into the City, and 
 worship before the throne, and keep the eternal 
 Sabbath of the Lord. 
 
266 Memorial. 
 
 It doth not yet appear what we shall be. Eye 
 hath not seen nor ear heard the wondrous things of 
 the Eternal City. Paul could not reveal the glories 
 that threw their broad splendor over his soul as 
 he was caught up into the third heaven. And the 
 gentle hearted John labored and strove to tell us 
 something of the beauty and melody and joy of 
 the place, yet labored almost in vain ; for mortal lips 
 could not utter the language of Canaan, neither 
 could mortal ears take in the entrancing utterances, 
 had they been breathed from angels' lips. 
 
 Yet, withal, the eye of faith would try and follow 
 the translated one and strive to behold some faint 
 glimpses of his glory and his joy. There was the 
 presence of the Saviour whom he had so much loved 
 here, and whose presence was the joy of his soul ; 
 this first of all. Then there was the meeting of 
 friends ; the sweet voiced mother ; the strong heart- 
 ed father ; the little babe, so beautiful on earth, yet 
 still more beautiful in heaven, who had reached the 
 Home before him ; friends without number who had 
 been gathered into the kingdom and were ready to 
 welcome him to glory, and join with him in the first 
 burst of the new song that is sung continually before 
 the throne of God ! 
 
 This departed servant of God had, while upon 
 earth, a wondrous conception of the greatness of the 
 missionary field. He had taken in, as God had re- 
 vealed it to him, this great American Nation as a 
 people to be won for God, as few Philanthropists or 
 Christians have been able to do, and it had thrilled 
 
The Evening a7id the Mor7iing. 26 j 
 
 his soul until, in his eager, impetuous zeal, he had 
 teen overborne in the work. But now that he is 
 lifted up above the utmost bounds of the everlasting 
 hills, and, with vision cleared of all mortal restraint, 
 looks abroad upon the vast creation of God, and no- 
 tices the eternal kingdom with its glories, of which 
 every soul that is ransomed from earth becomes a 
 priest and a king, he rejoices that now the field of 
 service is not the world only but the grand Universe 
 of God. 
 
 It must be that God has some special sphere of 
 service for his ministers who have worn out their 
 lives here in the upbuilding of his kingdom. It 
 must be that they have some distinguished honor, 
 as crowns radiant with the jewels of eternity, and 
 robes made white for priestly service are distributed 
 to those who have overcome, through the blood of 
 the Lamb ! But of this glorified servant of God, 
 passed away in his yet mature manhood, worn out 
 while the day was yet in its strength, consumed by 
 the fires of a zeal that knew no bounds, at an age 
 when many are in their prime, we know this ; the 
 angels have enrolled his name amongst those of the 
 noble army of martyrs of whom it is written : ''these 
 are they who have come up out of great tribulation, 
 and have washed their robes and made them white 
 in the blood of the Lamb ; therefore are they before 
 the throne of God." 
 
 The' services connected with the funeral were at 
 the Westminster church, on the fourteenth day of 
 September. There was sadness in many hearts in 
 
268 Memorial. 
 
 the city where he was so well known and so greatly 
 loved. This was evinced by the very large con- 
 course of people, and the great number of clergy- 
 men of other denominations who were present on 
 the occasion. The services were solemn and appro- 
 priate, as recorded in another portion of this volume. 
 He was borne to his burial with the conviction on 
 the part of his friends that he died as a martyr to 
 the cause of Home Missions, and that the rest would 
 be sweet in the more blessed and glorious sphere 
 where the unwearied soul shall serve God in His 
 sanctuary forever. And as the solemn words were 
 uttered : **In the hope of a glorious resurrection, we 
 commit earth to earth and ashes to ashes," there 
 was the conviction that this body that had been such 
 a fit temple for the Holy Ghost was not left there 
 to perish. The angels watch over it. They keep 
 guard around his tomb as they did around that of 
 Joseph of Arimathea until the sleeping Son of Man 
 should come forth from his repose. All unseen of 
 mortal eye they will watch around this Christian 
 man's tomb until the coming of the great Resurrec- 
 tion morning, when the dead shall be raised incor- 
 ruptible and appear in all the beauty of the glorified 
 estate to meet the Lord in the air ! 
 
 And so he was left to his rest, that sweet Septem- 
 ber day, with the thought that in the higher realm 
 of God's temple there was a glorified soul, still carry- 
 ing forward the work of the most High, while the 
 body was here awaiting the time of its redemption, 
 when it too shall join in the same service. 
 
The Eve7iing and the Mornt?ig, 26g 
 
 Who can doubt that there is service in Heaven ; 
 who can fail to see from all the teachings of divine 
 inspiration that the life here, with all its grand pos- 
 sibilities and its glowing scenes of beauty and majes- 
 ty, is but the prelude to the life to come ? Who can 
 fail to notice that God talks to us here as though 
 He considered us as standing in the outer courts of 
 the temple of life, and that there remains for us some 
 better thing, when we shall be admitted into that 
 within the vail — God's Holy of Holies, where no 
 shadows fall, and where the Lord God and'the Lamb 
 are the light thereof ! And in that inner Temple, 
 where palms await the victors and harps are tuned 
 for singers, there will be a sphere of service as much 
 above that in which God's people engage here, as 
 the heavens beyond the stars are above the earth 
 on which we tread ! 
 
 And in this service who can doubt that the 
 redeemed, ransomed, transfigured body is to have a 
 part ? The Lord of glory, our Saviour, is there in 
 his glorified body — Enoch, the first translated, is 
 there, and Elijah, the prophet of fire, is there, and 
 all are clothed in the body, transformed from the 
 natural to the Spiritual, and made like to the glory 
 of the King's Capital where they reign. And so all 
 God's ransomed ones shall be there, both soul and 
 body when the glory dawns. 
 
 And so we would infer that all Heaven's beauty 
 and glory will not be developed until the end of the 
 ages here, and the grand period shall arrive when 
 they that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, 
 
2^0 ^ Me7>iorial. 
 
 and ransomed soul and body shall put on the robes 
 of immortality, and enter upon the full inheritance 
 of glory. And the beauty of that estate none can 
 know here. If the heavenly estate is spoken of as 
 the dream of all beauty, indescribable in its loveli- 
 ness, what shall be the beauty and the splendor of 
 those who shall dwell within its walls of precious 
 stones } 
 
 And this estate will be eternal. Angels fell, and 
 their brightness faded to be recovered no more ; but 
 the blessed Redeemer took not on Him the nature of 
 angels. They were never ransomed by atoning 
 blood. Adam and Eve sinned and fell from the 
 grand glories of the terrestrial Paradise : but they 
 stood in their own strength ; there was no kinsman 
 Redeemer behind them in that first estate to insure 
 their safety. But for the perfect, redeemed worship- 
 ers, who stand upon the sea of glass that John saw 
 in vision, there is neither danger nor peril.. They 
 are forever safe, as are the pillars that uphold the 
 great Temple of Life. 
 
 And it may be that hereafter, in the Peerless City 
 in all the Universe, in the home of beauty, in the 
 highest realm of exalted taste, the glorified human 
 form will be found to be the very highest type of 
 beauty in all the worlds. It may be found that these 
 bodies, tabernacles of immortal souls ; temples of 
 the Holy Ghost, sick, wounded, bruised, dying here, 
 when made like to Christ's resurrection body, out of 
 the dust of the earth ; will be more beautiful than 
 the dreams of earth's first born Poets and Sculpt- 
 
The Evening and the Morning, 2^1 
 
 ors — yea, more comely than the Cherubim that soar 
 highest in the atmosphere of Heaven*! 
 
 How sweet these golden thoughts — how precious 
 is the work of Christ, our Saviour ! He comes to 
 us in our sin and ruin and wretchedness and brings 
 deliverance. He v/ashes these poor, sin-stained souls 
 in His own blood, and fits them for the holy society 
 of Heaven. And even these dying bodies, distort- 
 ed by disease, worn by labor and toil, faded by time 
 and wearing out through the cold, heavy influ- 
 ence of the curse, are raised up by almighty power 
 from the dust of the centuries, made more erect than 
 the Palm Trees, and more beautiful than any earthly 
 dream, and prepared for the highest sphere of ser- 
 vice the eternal God ever appoints for the creatures 
 He has made. 
 
 Now are we the sons of God — and if children 
 then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ 
 — yea, we are the younger brethren of the King, 
 through the wonderful adoption of our God, and 
 the eternal covenant He has made for our glory. 
 
 And lastly there is nothing terrible in death if we 
 have clasped hands with Jesus and surrendered all 
 to him — it is but the beginning of the true life — it 
 is but the passing from the vestibule where we get 
 echoes of the melody, into the grand, glorious 
 Temple of Life to dwell in the light and join in the 
 thrilling melody of the New Song : "unto Him that 
 hath loved us and hath washed us from our sins in 
 His own blood !" 
 
2^/2 Memorial. 
 
 "Weep not for death ! 
 
 'Tis but a fever still'd ; 
 A pain suppressed, a fear at rest, 
 
 A solemn hope fulfilled. 
 The moonshine on the slumbering deep, 
 Is scarcely calmer — wherefore weep ? 
 
 Weep not for death ! 
 
 The fount of tears is sealed ; 
 Who knows how bright the inward light 
 
 To those shut eyes reveale<I ? 
 Who knows what peerless love may fill 
 The heart that seems so cold and still? 
 
II. FUNERAL SERVICES 
 AT BALTIMORE. 
 
 " Hozv beautiful it is foi^ man to die 
 Upon the walls of Zion ! to be called 
 Like a watck-zvorn and weaiy sentinel^ 
 To put his armor off, and rest in heave n^ 
 
 Willis. 
 
 ''A7id devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and 
 made great lamentation over himy 
 
 Acts viii. 2. 
 
II. FUNERAL SERVICES AT BALTIMORE. 
 
 On Wednesday morning, September 14th., all the 
 officiating clergymen, the pall-bearers, and a few 
 friends gathered with the family at the house, No. 
 2, McCulloh Street, where the Rev. William J. Gill, 
 the pastor of Westminster Church, read the follow- 
 ing Scriptures and offered prayer, before accompa- 
 nying the coffin to the church. 
 
 The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me : because 
 the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings 
 unto the meek ; he hath sent me to bind up the 
 broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, 
 and the opening of the prison to them that are 
 bound, to comfort all that mourn ; to appoint unto 
 them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty 
 for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment 
 of praise for the spirit of heaviness, that they might 
 be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the 
 Lord, that he might be glorified. 
 
 In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the 
 Angel of His presence saved them ; in His love 
 and in His pity He redeemed them ; and He bare 
 them and carried them all the days of old. 
 
 Fear thou not, for I am with thee ; be not dis- 
 mayed, for I am thy God ; I will strengthen thee, 
 
2j6 Memorial. 
 
 yea, I will help thee ; yea, I will uphold thee with 
 the right hand of my righteousness. 
 
 When thou passest through the waters I will be 
 with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not 
 overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire 
 thou shall not be burned, neither shall the flame 
 kindle upon thee. 
 
 Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a 
 season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through mani- 
 fold temptations ; that the trial of your faith, being 
 much more precious than of gold that perisheth, 
 though it be tried with fire, might be found unto 
 praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 Blessed is the man whom Thou chastenest, O 
 Lord, and teachest him out of Thy law ; that Thou 
 mayest give him rest from the days of adversity. 
 
 For the Lord will not cast off His people, neither 
 will He forsake His inheritance. For the Lord will 
 not cast off forever ; but though He cause grief, yet 
 will He have compassion according to the multitude 
 of His mercies. For He doth not afflict willingly, 
 nor grieve the children of men. 
 
 For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but 
 with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little 
 wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but 
 with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, 
 saith the Lord, thy Redeemer. 
 
 Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Je- 
 sus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of 
 all comfort, who comforteth us in all our tribulation. 
 
Funeral Services at Balti77iore. 2yy 
 
 that we may be able to comfort them which are in 
 any trouble by the comfort wherewith we ourselves 
 are comforted of God. 
 
 For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so 
 our consolation also aboundeth in Christ. 
 
 Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your 
 God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry 
 unto her that her warfare is accomplished, that her 
 iniquity is pardoned : for she hath received of the 
 Lord's hand double for all her sins. 
 
 Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of 
 His saints. 
 
 Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth ; 
 therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Al- 
 mighty ; for He maketh sore and bindeth up ; He 
 woundeth and His hands make whole. 
 
 He that is our God is the God of salvation ; and 
 unto God the Lord belong the issues from death. 
 
 For His anger endureth but a moment ; in His 
 favor is life ; weeping may endure for a night, but 
 joy Cometh in the morning. 
 
 The Lord is merciful and gracious ; slow to anger, 
 and plenteous in mercy ; he will not always chide, 
 neither will He keep His anger forever. He hath 
 not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us ac- 
 cording to our iniquities ; for as the heaven is high 
 above the earth, so great is His mercy towards them 
 that fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, 
 so far hath He removed our transgressions from us. 
 
 Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
 pitieth them that fear Him. For He knoweth our 
 
2y8 Memorial. 
 
 frame ; He remembereth that we are dust. As for 
 man, his days are as grass ; as a flower of the field, 
 so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it and 
 it is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no 
 more. But the mercy of the Lord is from ever- 
 lasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him, 
 and His righteousness unto children's children ; 
 to such as keep His covenant, and to those that 
 remember His commandments to do them." 
 
 On arriving at Westminster church, where a large 
 audience was assembled, the coffin was placed in 
 front of the pulpit, and the Rev. Dr. John C. Back- 
 us, Pastor Emeritus of the First Church, offered 
 the invocation and read the hymn ; 
 
 "Rock of ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ; 
 
 Let the water and the blood, 
 
 From Thy wounded side which flowed, 
 
 Be of sin the doable cure ; 
 
 Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 
 
 "While 1 draw this fleeting breath, 
 When my heart-strings break in death. 
 When I soar to worlds unknown, 
 See Thee on Thy judgment throne, 
 Rock of ages, cleft for me. 
 Let me hide myself in Thee." 
 
 After the singing, Rev. Andrew B. Cross a life- 
 long member of the Presbytery of Baltimore read 
 the following selected Scriptures : 
 
 **I am the woman that stood by thee here, pray- 
 ing unto the Lord. For this child I prayed ; and 
 
Funeral Services at Baltunore. ^/p 
 
 the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked 
 of Him : therefore also I have lent him to the Lord ; 
 as long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord. 
 
 I Samuel i : 26-28. 
 Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee ; 
 and before thou camest forth out of the womb I 
 sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto 
 the nations. Then said I, Ah, Lord God ! behold, 
 I cannot speak : for I am a child. But the Lord 
 said unto me, Say not, I am a child : for thou shalt 
 go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I 
 command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of 
 their faces : for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith 
 the Lord. Then the Lord put forth his hand and 
 touched my mouth. And the Lord said unto me. 
 Behold I have put my words in thy mouth. 
 
 Jeremiah i : 5-9. 
 
 But Jesus called them unto Him, and said, Ye 
 know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise do- 
 minion over them, and they that are great, exercise 
 authority upon them. But it shall not be so among 
 you : but whosoever will be great among you, let 
 him be your minister ; and whosoever will be chief 
 among you, let him be your servant : even as the 
 Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to 
 minister, and to give his life a ransom for many. 
 
 Matthew xx : 25-28. 
 
 I was made a minister according to the gift of 
 the grace of God given unto me by the effectual 
 working of His power. Unto me, who am less than 
 
28o Memorial. 
 
 the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I 
 should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ ; and to make all men see what is 
 the fellowship of the mystery, which from the be- 
 ginning of the world hath been hid in God, who 
 created all things by Jesus Christ. 
 
 Ephesians III: 7-9 
 
 By the grace of God I am what I am : and His 
 grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain ; 
 but I labored more abundantly than they all ; yet 
 not I, but the grace of God which was with me. 
 
 I Corinthians xv : 10. 
 
 For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our 
 conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, 
 not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God 
 we have had our conversation in the world, and 
 more abundantly to you ward. 
 
 2. Corinthians 1:12. 
 
 I think that God hath set forth us the apostles 
 last, as it were appointed to death : for we are made 
 a spectacle unto the world, and to angels, and to 
 men. We are fools for Christ's sake, but ye are 
 wise in Christ ; we are weak, but ye are strong ; ye 
 are honorable, but we are despised. Even unto 
 this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are 
 naked and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling 
 place, and labor, working with our own hands ; being 
 reviled, we bless : being persecuted, we suffer it : 
 being defamed, we entreat : we are made as the filth 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. 281 
 
 of the world, and are the off-scouring of all things 
 unto this day. 
 
 1st Corinthians, iv : 9-13. 
 
 And my speech and my preaching was not with 
 enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstra- 
 tion of the Spirit and of power. * * It is writ- 
 ten, eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
 entered into the heart of man, the things which 
 God hath prepared for them that love Him. 
 
 1st Corinthians ii : 4, 9. 
 
 His own purpose and grace * * is now made 
 manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, who hath abolished death and hath brought 
 life and immortality to light through the Gospel : 
 whereunto I am appointed a preacher, and an apos- 
 tle, and a teacher of the Gentiles. For which cause 
 I also suffer these things : nevertheless I am not 
 ashamed : for I know whom I have believed, and 
 am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I 
 have committed unto Him against that day. 
 
 2d Timothy, i : 9-12. 
 
 I am now ready to be offered, and the tim.e of my 
 departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I 
 have finished my course, I have kept the faith : 
 henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of right- 
 eousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall 
 
 give me at that day. 
 
 2d Timothy iv : 6-*^. 
 
 Ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city 
 of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an 
 
282 Memorial. 
 
 innumerable company of angels, to the general as- 
 sembly and church of the firstborn, which are writ- 
 ten in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to 
 the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus 
 the mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood 
 of sprinkling that speaketh better things than that 
 of Abel. 
 
 Hebrews xii : 22-24. 
 
 Blessed be the God and father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, which according to His abundant mercy 
 hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the 
 resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an 
 inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that 
 fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you who 
 are kept by the power of God through faith unto 
 salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 
 Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a sea- 
 son, if need be, ye are in heaviness through mani- 
 fold temptations : that the trial of your faith, being 
 much more precious than of gold that perisheth, 
 though it be tried with fire, might be found unto 
 praise and honor and glory at the appearing of Je- 
 sus Christ : whom having not seen, ye love ; in 
 whom, though now ye see Him not, yet believing, 
 ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. 
 
 1ST Peter i : 3-8. 
 
 And I saw a great white throne, and Him that sat 
 on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled 
 away ; and there was found no place for them. And I 
 saw the dead, small and great, stand before God ; and 
 
Fu7ieral Services at Baltimore. 28 j 
 
 the books were opened; and another book was open- 
 ed, which is the Book of Life : And the dead were 
 judged out of those things which were written in 
 the books, according to their works. And the sea 
 gave up the dead which were in it ; and death and 
 hell gave up the dead which were in them r and 
 they were judged every man according to their 
 works. 
 
 Revelation xx : 11-13. 
 
 And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, 
 Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
 from henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit, that they 
 may rest from their labors, and their works do fol- 
 low them. 
 
 Revelation xiv : 13. 
 
 And they shall see His face ; and His name shall 
 be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night 
 there ; and they need no candle, neither light of the 
 sun ; for the Lord God giveth them light ; and they 
 shall reign forever and ever. 
 
 Revelation xxii : 4-5. 
 
 Behold, what manner of love the Father hath be- 
 stowed on us, that we should be called the sons of 
 God : therefore the world knoweth us not, because 
 it knew Him not. Beloved, now are we the sons of 
 God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be : 
 but we know that, when He shall appear, we shall 
 be like Him ; for we shall see Him as He is. 
 
 1ST John hi : i, 2. 
 
284 Memorial. 
 
 He, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stead- 
 fastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and 
 Jesus standing on the right hand of God. 
 
 Acts vii: 55. 
 
 And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, 
 and made great lamentation over him. 
 
 Acts viii : 2. 
 
 Martha saith unto Him, I know that he shall rise 
 again in the resurrection at the last day, Jesus 
 saith unto her, I am the Resurrection and the 
 Life : he that believeth in me, though he were dead, 
 yet shall he live. 
 
 John xi : 24-25. 
 
 This was followed by the 
 Address of the Rev. Dr. J. T. Smith, 
 
 Pastor of the Central church, Baltimore, sketch- 
 ing the life and work of Dr. Dickson. 
 
 We were boys together. We were class-mates at 
 College. We were settled side by side as pastors 
 during the first seven years of our ministry, and 
 then, separated for a little while, were re-united here. 
 We crossed the Atlantic, traversed Europe, climbed 
 the Pyramids, stood on the shores of the Red Sea 
 together. I have been a frequent inmate of his 
 home since the day he first had a home, have seen 
 his children grow up around him, and have buried 
 his dead. For half a century our lives have run on 
 together, side by side. If this familiar and lifelong 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. 28s 
 
 association seem in one respect a qualification for 
 the service to which I am here called, I feel it at 
 this solemn moment rather a disqualification and a 
 hindrance. It is so hard to bid away these throng- 
 ing memories, to bid down these throbbing emotions, 
 to get away from these obtrusive personalities, and 
 to speak calmly, impersonally, as the occasion re- 
 quires. 
 
 Cyrus Dickson was born in the township of North 
 East, Erie County, Pennsylvania, on the 20th day of 
 December, 18 16. His childhood was passed on the 
 shore of the great lake, and almost within hearing 
 of the thunders of Niagara. The illimitable ex- 
 panse on which he gazed day by day with boyish 
 wonder and awe, and the thunders of omnipotence 
 which were always sounding by his side, it is not 
 mere fancy to say, imparted something of their own 
 expansion and sublimity to the unfolding faculties 
 of the man. But other and more powerful influences 
 were around him. He was a child of the Covenant, 
 the descendant of a long line of godly ancestors, 
 some of whom were princes in Israel. He enjoyed 
 as his birthright the inheritance of Covenant bless- 
 ings. Breathing the atmosphere and surrounded 
 by all the hallowed influences of a Christian home, 
 his earliest and profoundest impressions were of the 
 reality, the nearness, and the transcendent impor- 
 tance of eternal things. How fondly he cherished 
 the hallowed memories of that childhood's home, 
 and how lasting its impress upon his character ! 
 Western Pennsylvania was then almost a wilder- 
 
286 Memorial. 
 
 ness, just beginning to blossom as the rose. Its 
 first settlers were almost all Presbyterians of the 
 straitest, purest, strongest type, from Scotland, from 
 Northern Ireland, from the Cumberland valley and 
 the homes of Presbyterianism in the East, but chiefly 
 from Washington and the Southern counties of the 
 State. Dr. McMillan, a most remarkable man, the 
 John Knox of his age, God had raised up and en- 
 dued with Apostolic gifts and sent before as a pio- 
 neer herald to prepare His way in the wilder- 
 ness. From his log college in Cannonsburg, — the 
 Geneva of the West — there went forth a race of 
 ministers whose like the world has seldom seen since 
 apostolic times. Their names, if going down on earth, 
 are ever bright and brightening in Heaven. Their 
 labors if long since ended on earth with no visible 
 monument or memorial, still follow in their blessed 
 influences, and sanctified souls who have never heard 
 their names. Tait, Eaton, Johnston, Hughes, Sat- 
 
 terfield, Woods, M'Curdy, Smith, Marquis these 
 
 are the honored names of a few of those mighty men 
 of old. From the banks of the Ohio to the shores 
 of the great lakes they went everywhere preaching 
 with power from on high the Gospel of the Kingdom, 
 and crying aloud "Prepare ye in the desert a high- 
 way for our God." The Pulpit then was what Pulpit 
 and Platform and Press combined are to day, and 
 their pulpits were the mightiest influence in fashion- 
 ing society. The people were poor in this world's 
 goods, but they were pre-eminently rich in faith. 
 Eternal things were not to them myths nor shadows 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. 28 j 
 
 nor soulless abstractions : they were present and pal- 
 pable realities. They saw God and the great white 
 throne, and Heaven and Hell as present and real, and 
 the vision influenced and controlled their whole lives. 
 Religion was the great business of their lives. It 
 was the chief theme of conversation. It constituted 
 almost their exclusive reading. Instead of morning 
 papers and magazines and reviews and cheap litera- 
 ture of every kind, the Bible and the Confession of 
 Faith, and Baxter and Doddridge and Bunyan were 
 the companions of their solitary hours. The question 
 as to worldly amusements, when and how far they 
 are lawful and innocent, did not trouble them, for 
 their rejoicing was in the Lord, and they felt the 
 need of no higher joy. 
 
 Their Communion seasons were like the great 
 annual festivals of the Jews. They were held in 
 groves, God's first temples, for no walls could con- 
 tain the gathering multitudes. The services were 
 protracted through many days. The people assem- 
 bled for many miles around ; neighboring ministers 
 were called in ; preaching from the tent was con- 
 tinued with short intervals almost the entire day, 
 and far into the night the voice of prayer and praise 
 was heard in their dwellings. And the Spirit often 
 came down upon them like the rustling wind in the 
 tree-tops, like the rushing mighty wind of Pente- 
 cost. The revival services of those times were al- 
 most the repetitions of Pentecost. Most remarkable 
 in their nature and methods, most lasting in their 
 blessed influences, few scenes in the whole history 
 
2SS Memorial, 
 
 of the Church so displayed the power of God's 
 Spirit, and so magnified the grace of the Gospel. 
 
 It was amidst such influences the childhood of 
 Dr. Dickson was passed and his Christian character 
 shaped. The blessed baptism then received left its 
 lasting impress on his whole future life. 
 
 At the early age of fourteen he joined himself 
 publicly to the Lord, and from that hour his purpose 
 to enter the ministry seems to have been fixed. 
 His preparatory education was obtained in the dis- 
 trict schools of North East and at the Academy at 
 Erie. In November 1832 he entered Jefferson Col- 
 lege, and was graduated in 1837 in a class which 
 embraced the martyr missionary Lowrie, and gave, 
 as the fruit of a precious College revival, so many 
 ministers to the Church. Theological seminaries 
 were then in their infancy, and the great question 
 between the Seminary and private instruction 
 was still under debate. Dr. Dickson, in accordance 
 with the wishes of his Presbytery, and his own con- 
 victions at the time, pursued his theological educa- 
 tion under private instructors. 
 
 He was ordained and installed pastor of the uni- 
 ted churches of Franklin and Sugar Creek in Ve- 
 nango County, Pennsylvania, in June, 1840, and in 
 the same year was married to Miss Delia E. Mc Con- 
 nell, the helper of his faith, the sharer of his labors, 
 the charm of his home, and the solace of his life for 
 forty years, and a ministering angel around his bed 
 of death. 
 
 Franklin, the county seat of Venango county, situ- 
 
Fnnei^al Services at Baltwiore. 2Sg 
 
 ated at the junction of French Creek and the Alle- 
 gheny River, was then a little village of some four 
 hundred inhabitants. Sugar Creek, situated on the 
 stream of that name, was some seven miles distant. 
 The churches in both places were little, rough, 
 wooden structures, with naked walls and quaking 
 windows, and rude pine pulpits, lit up at night by- 
 flickering tallow candles. The people were few, 
 scattered, poor, primitive in style of dwellings and 
 customs and mianners. The salary was $300. Those 
 churches were just on the edge of what v*^as then 
 almost a wilderness, now the oil region of Pennsyl- 
 vania. The roads were often but blind bridle paths, 
 filled with stumps, and in places almost impassable 
 from snags. The streams were bridgeless, and the 
 crossings of French Creek, Oil Creek and Broken- 
 straw were often difficult and sometimes perilous. 
 The inhabitants, chiefly lumbermen, were scattered 
 along the water courses, while the intervening re- 
 gions were desert. A few feeble churches were 
 erected at long intervals, and where they were 
 wanting, the lordly pine or the wide-spreading oak, or 
 the rude country school house afforded a sanctuary. 
 The people hungered and thirsted for the Bread of 
 Life, and it was the 4^1ight of the young pastor, 
 mounted on a horse as well known throughout all 
 that region as himself, through hunger and cold and 
 storm to carry the Bread of Life to those scattered 
 sheep in the wilderness. His coming was always a 
 festal time, and his name in all that country was as 
 ointment poured forth. 
 
2 go MeinoriaL 
 
 His fame as a preacher began to be noised abroad, 
 and other and wider fields began to solicit him. In 
 1848 he accepted a call from the Second Church 
 of Wheeling, Virginia, then just organized. Few 
 ever felt the pangs of parting as keenly as he, and 
 the parting from the people of his first love almost 
 broke his heart. Upon his new field he entered 
 with characteristic ardor. The church grew in num- 
 bers and influence, and became, under his ministry, 
 one of the largest, best organized, and most influen- 
 tial for good in the Presbytery. Here, as every- 
 where, with that strange magnetism which bound all 
 hearts to himself, the people-were drawn to him and 
 bound to him by ties which were hard to sunder. 
 But a still wider field was opened, and, in November, 
 1856, he became the pastor of the Westminster 
 Church, Baltimore. From the very beginning of 
 his ministry in Baltimore, an unusual blessing at- 
 tended him. During the first two years there was 
 an almost continual revival, and a precious harvest 
 of souls was gathered. The people of God were 
 edified and quickened in every good word and work, 
 and the church prospered during the whole fourteen 
 years of his pastorate. His influence in all the 
 churches and throughout the entire Presbytery was 
 great and constantly growing, until he occupied a 
 position from which it seemed he could not be 
 spared. Then the voice which had been always call- 
 ing to him " Come up higher " called once more. 
 
 In 1870 he was elected, by the General Assembjy, 
 Secretary of the Board of Missions. The congre- 
 
Funeral Services at Baltmiore. 2gi 
 
 gation with one heart and one voice opposed his re- 
 moval. Their representatives in Presbytery, with 
 the earnestness of profound conviction and the elo- 
 quence of deep emotion, remonstrated against it. 
 But his own conviction of duty was clear, and his 
 brethren of the Presbytery, with whatever reluc- 
 tance, were compelled to acquiesce. And for ten 
 years he filled the office which made his name a 
 household word, not only throughout this entire 
 land, but through all Christendom. More than a 
 year ago failing health compelled him to retire from 
 the active duties of his office, and to seek in tempora- 
 ry rest strength for new labors. But his work was 
 done : his crown was ready ; and the Master had 
 need of him, and called him once more to a still 
 higher service. He came back to the people he had 
 loved so well to spend among them his last days, 
 and leave with them his precious dust. Slowly we 
 saw the light of life go out. Day by day we saw 
 his step grow feebler and feebler, his eye grow dim- 
 mer and dimmer, his eloquent voice fainter and 
 fainter. And on last Sabbath morning, the day 
 whose dawning he always rejoiced to welcome, 
 while we were making ready for the earthly sanctu- 
 ary, he was caught up into the temple above, joined 
 the great congregation around the throne, and min- 
 gled his voice in the new song. 
 
 Such is the brief, historic outline — the setting of 
 the picture — but the picture itself we hesitate to at- 
 tempt. Portrait-painting is always difficult. Those 
 delicate spiritual lines which the soul within traces 
 
2g2 AlemoriaL 
 
 upon the features it is hard for the most skilful 
 pencil to transfer to canvass. 
 
 I. As a man he was richly and in many respects 
 most remarkably endowed. There was in him a 
 rare combination of the most seemingly incompati- 
 ble qualities. Imagination was the imperial of his 
 soul apparently holding all others in subjection to 
 itself. Out of the faintest analogies and the dim- 
 mest resemblances it fashioned ideal scenes and 
 built up ideal worlds for his habitation. His sensi- 
 bilities were keen, reflecting as a burnished mirror 
 the form of every passing object. His sympathies 
 were quick and warm and transforming. I have 
 never known a man who could so thoroughly appre- 
 ciate the situation, enter into the feelings, and put 
 himself into the place of another. His affections 
 were ardent. Seldom was a man surrounded with 
 such hosts of friends and loved with such intense 
 affection. Imaginative, impressible, sympathetic, 
 affectionate, his temperament was that of the Poet 
 and his world the world of romance. And yet, with 
 all this, there was a strange mingling of the most 
 prosaic and practical qualities. His observations of 
 men and affairs were large and yet minute and cir- 
 cumstantial. His mind always active, his faculties 
 always on the alert, he was always gathering knowl- 
 edge from surrounding objects. His information 
 upon all subjects of practical interest was vast. His 
 knowledge of human nature in its weaknesses, its 
 follies, and its excellencies was almost unequalled. 
 The ideal with him served not to lessen nor to con- 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. 2pj 
 
 fuse, but rather to embellish, to wing, and to elevate 
 the actual. Never so much a student of books but al- 
 ways a student of men and affairs, he was always 
 ready to give counsel in any perplexity, or discuss 
 any subject of practical interest Of those marvel- 
 lous extemporaneous speeches which so thrilled his 
 hearers, he might say as Daniel Webster said of 
 his great speech : '*It took me thirty years to pre- 
 pare it." 
 
 2. These natural characteristics, consecrated by 
 Divine grace and brought into the service of the 
 sanctuary, gave their peculiar complexion to his 
 character and work as a minister. A devout stu- 
 dent of the Word, his theology was drawn directly 
 from its pages. The great end of preaching, as he 
 regarded it, was simply to declare the mind of the 
 Spirit, and his preaching was largely expository. 
 But his imagination embellished and flung new at- 
 tractions around the whole. The most familiar truths 
 it grouped into new forms and presented in new com- 
 binations, so that the old was forever new, and his 
 hearers, always kept in a state of pleasant surprise, 
 found the charm of perpetual novelty, as the old was 
 forever being new. His ardent sympathies enabled 
 him to discern the application of the truth unfolded 
 to the wants of those before him, and his ardent af- 
 fections enabled them to bring them home to their 
 business and bosoms with a power seldom equaled. 
 The man embodied himself in the Preacher, and 
 transfused his own magnetic personality into the ser- 
 mon. His preaching was not like that of other men, 
 
2C}4 Memorial. 
 
 for lie was not like other men, and he spoke out of a 
 full heart that which he did know and had seen of 
 the grace of Christ. 
 
 3. As a Pastor he was almost everything that a 
 pastor should be. No shepherd ever watched his 
 flock, no watchman ever watched for souls as he. If 
 you think the words extravagant, ask any of those 
 who enjoyed his pastoral care. Kind, tender, sym- 
 pathetic, he was ever ready to weep with those who 
 wept, and to pour the balm of kindly sympathy into 
 the bleeding heart. Not in those great sorrows only 
 which rend the heart strings, but in the every-day 
 annoyances and perplexities which make up so 
 much of the bitterness of life, he was a wise coun- 
 sellor and a skilful guide. I remember well the 
 impression made by the young Pastor among his 
 own people and throughout the churches of West- 
 ern Pennsylvania ; he was not a man of books alone, 
 and of theological abstractions, dwelling in a world 
 apart ; he knew men, he knew affairs ; he was a 
 dweller in this present, actual world of living men 
 and living interests. He could talk with farmers 
 and merchants and ph3^sicians and lawyers and 
 judges with an intelligent appreciation of their af- 
 fairs and a real sympathy in their perplexities. And 
 these sanctified secularities were always a power in 
 his ministry. 
 
 4. As a Presbyter here, in this presence where 
 nearly the entire Presbytery of which he was so long 
 a member is assembled, I need scarcely speak. Ye, 
 Brethren, are all witnesses. His promptness in at- 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore, 2g^ 
 
 tendance upon all meetings, his readiness to take 
 his full share of labor and responsibility, his quick- 
 ness, his versatility, his large information, his ripe 
 experience, his deep earnestness and magnetic pow- 
 er in imparting his own spirit, are familiar to you 
 all. How invaluable his counsels, how effective his 
 agency in composing differences and healing breach- 
 es. How beyond the narrow limits of his own 
 Church his eye ranged over the entire Presbytery, 
 and his large heart embraced all the churches, and 
 his busy hands were ever ready to minister to their 
 wants. 
 
 5. As a Secretary. Great as the loss was to us, 
 great as the grief was to him in sundering the ties 
 which bound him here, the Church acted wisely for 
 her larger interest in placing him at the head of her 
 Board of Missions. His qualifications for the work, 
 both theoretical and practical, were remarkable. 
 Few had .a larger knowledge of this great land in its 
 present condition, or a clearer prophetic vision of 
 its future greatness. From the Atlantic to the 
 Pacific, from the great lakes to the gulf, it was spread 
 out before him as a map. He had traversed almost 
 its entire extent. He delighted in collecting statis- 
 tics and gathering information of every kind con- 
 cerning it. With its climate, soil, productions, 
 character of its inhabitants, undeveloped resources, 
 and possibilities for the future, few statisticians 
 were better acquainted. From boyhood the coming 
 glory of this great land was a delightful theme. His 
 eye always sparkled and his voice always grew eio- 
 
2g6 Memorial. 
 
 quent when he adverted to it. And with those 
 glowing visions there was burned into his very soul 
 the profound conviction that the Gospel was the 
 only hope for that future. Those marvelous speech- 
 es of his which so thrilled all hearts in Presbyteries 
 and Synods, and from year to year on the platform 
 of the General Assembly, and gave such a mighty 
 impulse to the cause for which he pleaded, were just 
 the outflow of that clear prophetic vision of the 
 future greatness and glory of this broad land, and 
 the profound conviction that the Gospel alone was 
 the conservator of that future. 
 
 I have spoken chiefly of the man and of the 
 characteristics which fitted him for the several de- 
 partments of his great life-work. Of that work it- 
 self and of its results, present and prospective, I 
 leave others to speak more largely. The special 
 lessons of his death for those here gathered, and the 
 consolations the Gospel brings to those who mourn 
 with a greater sorrow than ours, I leave for the 
 more fitting lips of him w^ho is to follow. 
 
 Dr. Dickson dead ! That motionless marble for- 
 ever shut up in that narrow cofifin, the eyes closed, 
 the eloquent lips sealed, is that all of him that re- 
 mains to us } And shall the places that knew him 
 so long know him no more forever.'* Shall he be to 
 us henceforth only a name or a memory, an inspira- 
 tion or a spiritual influence, everywhere with us in- 
 deed, but unseen .^ How hard to realize it here 
 within these walls where the tones of his eloquent 
 voice still seem to linger! 
 
Ftineral Services at Baltimore. ^p/ 
 
 Farewell, Brother, farewell ! Thy work is done, 
 thy warfare accomplished. The crown long since 
 woven and laid up for thee the sacred hands were 
 waiting to place upon thy brow. Not dead, but 
 gone before ! We gather with tearful eyes around 
 thy sacred body and will bear it reverently, as such 
 a temple of the Holy Ghost ought to be borne, to 
 its burial. We will place by thy side the dust of 
 the little prattler whom, long years ago, thou didst 
 give up to Heaven to await thy coming. There in 
 the bed that Jesus has softened for thee, sweet be 
 thy rest, Brother, until the morning of that great 
 rising day when we shall all meet thee again. 
 
 If earth has grown darker, heaven has grown 
 sweeter to us to-day, since Dr. Dickson is there. 
 Another familiar face looks down upon us from the 
 midst of the great cloud of witnesses to-day. An- 
 other dear friend has gone before to welcome us to 
 the Father's house. How very sweet Heaven is be- 
 coming to us ! How many of earth's most precious 
 treasures have been given up to Heaven within the 
 last few months ! Adams, Beadle, Boardman, how 
 their names throng upon us when we begin to recall ! 
 What glad reunions were celebrated in the Father's 
 house above last Sabbath morning ! How many 
 greeted the joyous entrance of Dr. Dickson there ! 
 You can see them thronging around him, the spirit- 
 ual children who have gone before from this church, 
 and from so many churches ! How rapturous his 
 joy as he stretches out his hand and says, ''Ye are 
 my crown and my joy !" With what precious jewels 
 
2pS Memorial, 
 
 is Dr. Dickson's crown set, the souls he has brought 
 home to God ! 
 
 Farewell, Brother, farewell. We will try to follow 
 thee even as thou also didst follow Christ. And 
 soon, very soon, dear Brother, we will meet thee 
 again in the Father's house, and together be forever 
 with the Lord ! 
 
 The next speaker referred more particularly to 
 the Baltimore pastorate, in the following words : 
 
 Address of the Rev. Dr. John C. Backus. 
 
 The mourning of this occasion is not a mere sen- 
 timent. Tender and sacred associations have in- 
 deed been severed. To myself personally one of the 
 strongest, most intimate, confidential and useful 
 friendships of a more than usually protracted minis- 
 try has been closed by the event that has brought 
 us together. How many here have lost a dear 
 friend ! What then must be the feelings of those 
 who have been wounded in the keenest of the natu- 
 ral affections } Yet we are here in this House of 
 God, and not in a private dwelling, because a great 
 public loss has been suffered. 
 
 This is not the time for a full, discriminating ac- 
 count of the life and character of the lamented ser- 
 vant of God. His life-long friend, who has just sat 
 down, has given as ample a sketch as such a service 
 will permit. It ought not to pass, however, without 
 recalling something of the life with which we were 
 more particularly associated. 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. 2gg 
 
 Assembled in this Westminster church, where so 
 important a part of his ministry was spent, it is ap- 
 propriate to remind you that his was the longest, the 
 most favored and successful pastorate it has yet 
 known. It had, under Dr. William J. Hoge's youthful 
 and very attractive, though brief ministry, just pass- 
 ed through its infancy. That was the era of its 
 taking form, becoming established, getting into a 
 condition for work. Gathered from various scatter- 
 ed congregations, of diverse character, it required 
 those four years to take shape and become settled 
 so as to be a homogeneous body. The first treas- 
 urer told me that in those four years there were as 
 many who left as there were at any one time in the 
 church. And yet there was a constant, steady 
 growth. 
 
 Dr. Dickson came just as it was getting ready for 
 its mission as a church. He came from a region 
 that had been prolific in ministers, and to which 
 this city and Presbytery are more indebted for their 
 supply than is generally recognized. He came of 
 that Scotch-Irish element to which our church and 
 country owe as much, under God, as to any other. 
 That rare blending of earnest enthusiasm with pa- 
 tient perseverance, genial vivacity, with hard, practi- 
 cal sense, was displayed by him on all occasions. And 
 what gave these characteristics their peculiar relig- 
 ious influence was, that the blending had been devel- 
 oped from the first in the old country and, when 
 transplanted into this, under gracious revivals. He 
 came, too, with a ripened experience from his for 
 
300 Memorial. 
 
 mer settlements in Franklin and Wheelingf, where 
 he had the finest opportunity for the exercise and 
 development of his extraordinary gifts and graces 
 for the ministerial work. 
 
 Just when this church was sorrowing under its 
 first vacancy, one of the prominent elders happened 
 to be detained over Sabbath as he was passing 
 through Wheeling, and attended the church to 
 which Dr. Dickson then ministered. So impressed 
 was he with the earnestness, the evangelical spirit, 
 the directness and eloquence of the preaching, the 
 appropriate and edifying method of conducting the 
 devotional services, the warm zeal manifested in the 
 Sabbath School and all church work, as well as with 
 the account given of his popularity and influence, 
 that he immediately directed the attention of this 
 congregation to him, and he was at once unanimous- 
 ly called. 
 
 What no doubt added greatly to the efficiency and 
 success of his pastorate here was its being early at- 
 tended with a remarkable effusion of the Holy Spir- 
 it. Not long after his settlement, when his family 
 were away, a feeling of special loneliness seems to 
 have come over him, and he became deeply de- 
 pressed. With all his vivacity and hopefulness, he 
 was subject to occasional depressions. Perhaps he 
 missed the old friendships of Wheeling, when the 
 Baltimore ones had not fully ripened. 
 
 He looked on the dark side ; he saw discourage- 
 ments that had not occurred to him when the field 
 was viewed from a distance. He questioned wheth- 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. joi 
 
 er he ought to have left his former charge where he 
 was doing so useful a work and was so beloved. 
 But out of the depths he cried unto the Lord, 
 How often has that call, ^' Lord, I am oppressed, 
 undertake for me ! " been graciously answered. And 
 he found how God's power is made perfect in hu- 
 man weakness. The Spirit was poured down from 
 above, and a most precious revival followed. More 
 than one hundred were added to the church that 
 year, and nearly two hundred in that and the follow- 
 ing year. Many of them were persons who had 
 been prominent in politics and business. Husbands 
 and wives, parents and children, teachers and schol- 
 ars, young men and maidens all stood together here 
 and professed their covenant vows. 
 
 This season of refreshing gave an impulse to the 
 church that continued for years. The membership 
 was doubled. Many became active workers. It deep- 
 ened the unction of his preaching, gave increased 
 efficiency to his pastoral work, brought him into 
 more intimate communion with the people, and thus 
 greatly enhanced his influence in the congregation, 
 and his reputation in the community. He had only 
 to be thus more intimately known to be felt. His 
 warm enthusiasm, his genial temperament, his keen 
 insight into human nature, his tender sympathy, his 
 ripe experience, his inexhaustible fund of anecdote, 
 his v/onderful power of illustration, detecting the 
 slightest analogies, his readiness in reply, all gave 
 him great influence in social life. Those who came 
 in contact with him at the family board, friendly 
 
J02 Me^norial. 
 
 gatherings or more public meetings were always 
 deeply impressed with this. These remarkable gifts 
 rendered him an invaluable co-worker in such a city. 
 He took an interest in all questions, was always 
 ready to bear his part. What he said was to the 
 point, his selections for reading, his devotional ser- 
 vices, his addresses were appropriate and at the 
 same time animating and stirring. So that his breth- 
 ren regarded him as a host in himself. Our weeks 
 of prayer have never had such an interest since. 
 
 After ten or twelve years, through such a success- 
 ful ministry, and his appearances in our church 
 courts, his reputation had become widely extended 
 over the church. In 1868, before the re-union, on 
 the resignation of Dr. Musgrave, he was called to 
 the Secretaryship of the O. S. Board of Domestic 
 Missions. His brethren then felt that he was emi- 
 nently qualified to fill most usefully and successfully 
 this important post. The call deeply impressed 
 him, but he loved the pastoral office, and as his own 
 mind was not clear, and he devolved the responsi- 
 bility of a decision on the Presbytery, it was, after 
 careful deliberation, determined that he ought not 
 to go — and Presbytery refused to dissolve the pas- 
 toral relation. 
 
 The attention of the whole church, however, was 
 directed to him as a fit person for such a post. And 
 at the re-union in 1870 he was not only elected Per- 
 manent Clerk of the General Assembly, but also 
 when the whole benevolent work of the church had 
 to be readjusted, and it was found that an able, thor- 
 
Funeral Services at Baltimore. joj 
 
 oughly qualified Old School man must be selected 
 to go into the Secretaryship of the Home Board — 
 upon the success of which that of all the others 
 greatly depended — he was at once unanimously 
 elected, on the nomination of the late Dr. Adams, 
 then the leader of the New School branch of the 
 church. It seems now a remarkable coincidence 
 that his physician and devoted friend (who was a 
 member of Presbytery as an Elder, when the sub- 
 ject of his dismissal came again before the body in 
 1870, and earnestly opposed it) gave it as his opin- 
 ion that if he were transferred to that post he would 
 not live more than ten years : and he did actually 
 break down just ten years after, and died the next 
 year on the same day of the month. This, how- 
 ever, no friend could foresee. His field of labor in 
 this church had somewhat changed. After the war 
 the city began to extend rapidly north, west and 
 east. Business increasingly encroached upon this 
 neighborhood : the residences of the congregation 
 rapidly changed ; numbers of his old parishioners 
 moved up town ; so that after ten years hardly any 
 of those he left continued near the church. He felt 
 greatly the pressure of the call in that crisis of the 
 church, and the change alluded to no doubt recon- 
 ciled him to a removal ; and, after prayerful delibera- 
 tion, he expressed his willingness to accept the 
 post. Presbytery, reluctant as it was to dissolve the 
 pastoral relation, and grant him a dismission, did 
 not feel at liberty longer to refuse. It has been a 
 great satisfaction to me to learn recently that, while 
 
304 Alemorial. 
 
 he never expressed a regret that he went when he 
 did, yet he did say that he was grateful he did not 
 go in 1868, as the last two years of his pastorate 
 were among the pleasantest of his life. And I no- 
 tice that the accessions to his church in these years 
 were greater than in any except the years of special 
 revival. 
 
 The results of the ten years labor as Secretary of 
 the Board also seem to justify the step. A better 
 selection could not have been made. He was pre- 
 eminently fitted, in talents and disposition, in gifts 
 and graces, for this most responsible post, in which, 
 under God, he accomplished so much for the church 
 and his generation. The Presbyterian church has 
 been highly favored in having so distinguished men 
 to fill such important and responsible positions 
 through her history, some of whom have gone to 
 their reward. You will at once recall the names of 
 Walter Lowrie, John Breckinridge, Cortlandt Van 
 Rensselaer, and others that will ever be held in hon- 
 ored remembrance. Each had specially eminent 
 gifts. But no Secretary ever made deeper impress- 
 ions, waked warmer interest, or won more hearts by 
 his eloquent appeals in the pulpit, on the platform, 
 or on the floor of an ecclesiastical body, than our 
 revered brother. His first official appearance, in the 
 General Assembly at Chicago, in 1871, stirred that 
 body as it had never been stirred before. No one 
 who then heard him will ever forget the occasion. 
 These impressions were repeated at each succeeding 
 Assembly. His addresses became the prominent 
 
Fiuicral Services at Baltimore. jo^ 
 
 features of the meetings. So wherever he went, from 
 Presbytery to Presbytery, from Synod to Synod, he 
 kindled an enthusiasm much Hke that of Alexander 
 Duff when he first returned from India, and so stir- 
 red Scotland on the subject of Foreign Missions. 
 His last, perhaps profoundest, impression was made 
 at the first Pan Presbyterian Council in Edinburgh, 
 on ''Home Missions in the United States." 
 
 But time would fail me should I attempt to depict 
 this last ten years' work — his high conception of 
 what was to be done in evangelizing the land, his 
 fidelity, conscientiousness, supreme devotion to the 
 work — how he studied the field, journeyed, wrote, 
 spoke, ever saying "This one thing I do." The re- 
 quirements were arduous and exacting, and his ser- 
 vices were manifold. But it was too much for him. 
 The anxious thought, the earnest activity, the intense 
 excitement, spending and being spent, wore him 
 out prematurely. Inan ordinary pastoral charge he 
 might, humanly speaking, have labored on through 
 another decade or more. But in this service he 
 broke down. It was, however, in his Master's cause, 
 and he never begrudged the sacrifice ; I merely 
 now recall it that you may have in mind, as we carry 
 him to his burial, what God did by him, and what 
 He will permit those to do for His cause who 
 are willing to present their "bodies a living sacrifice, 
 holy and acceptable unto God, which is your reason- 
 able service." 
 
 And now, in conclusion, I will only add that at 
 the first funeral service I attended with him, as we 
 
jo6 Memorial. 
 
 stood by the open grave and lowered down the cof- 
 fined remains, in a clear and distinct voice he recit- 
 ed that answer of the Catechism, ''The souls of be- 
 "lievers are at their death made perfect in holiness, 
 ''and do immediately pass into glory ; and their 
 "bodies, being still united to Christ, do rest in their 
 "graves till the resurrection." The faith and hope 
 of these precious truths give what an aspect to this 
 occasion ! Look into that coffin. He is not there. 
 He is risen. We look merely to see the place where 
 he laid — the tabernacle in which he dwelt for a time. 
 "The Lord formed man out of the dust of the 
 "ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath 
 "of life." The dust must return to the earth as it 
 was, must rest in the grave ; be taken down, as the 
 house infected with leprosy, that it may be recon- 
 structed in the resurrection, and "fashioned like un- 
 "to our Saviour's glorious body." "As by one man 
 "sin entered into the world, and death by sin ; so 
 "death passed upon all, for that all have sinned." 
 The bodies of believers, however, are still united to 
 Christ. And He has said "I am the resurrection 
 "and the life : he that believeth in me, though he 
 "were dead, yet shall he live." 
 
 But the Spirit shall ascend to God who gave it — 
 it is now, this day, with Christ in Paradise — it has 
 entered into the joy of the Lord. "If I go and pre- 
 pare a place for you, I will come again and receive 
 you unto m3^self." Comfort one another with these 
 words. He shall not return to us, but we may go 
 to him. Give all diligence to make your calling 
 
Ftmeral Services at Baltimore. joj 
 
 sure. So an entrance shall be ministered unto you 
 abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our 
 Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 
 
 At the conclusion of his address Dr. Backus read 
 the hymn : 
 
 "High in yonder realms of light 
 
 Dwell the raptured saints above, 
 Far beyond our mortal sight, 
 
 Happy in Immanuel's love; 
 Pilgrims in this vale of tears, 
 
 Once they knew, like us below, 
 Gloomy doubts, distressing fears, 
 
 Torturing pain and heavy woe. 
 
 '* 'Mid the^chorus of the skies, 
 
 'Mid the angelic lyres above. 
 Hark! their songs triumphant rise — 
 
 Songs of praise to Jesus' love; 
 Happy spirits, they are fled 
 
 Where no grief can entrance find, 
 Lulled to rest the aching head. 
 
 Soothed the anguish of the mind. 
 
 "All is tranquil and serene. 
 
 Calm and undisturbed repose; 
 There no cloud can intervene, 
 
 There no angry tempest blows; 
 Every tear is wiped away. 
 
 Sighs no more shall heave the breast; 
 Night is lost in endless day, 
 
 Sorrow in eternal rest." 
 
 After the singing the Rev. Dr. J. F. Stearns, of 
 Newark, New Jersey, a member of the Board of 
 Home Missions, made a short address. 
 
joS Memorial. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. William C. Roberts, the newly-chos- 
 en successor of Dr. Dickson, as Secretary of the 
 Board, then made the following address : 
 
 " What means this concourse of solemn worship- 
 pers, and the pall of sadness resting on every heart .-^ 
 A Prince in Israel has fallen, and the people have 
 come together to do him honor. It cannot be said 
 of him, as of the illustrious Patriarch, '' He died in a 
 good old age, an old man, and full of years ; for his 
 eye was not dim, nor was his natural force abated. He 
 was not prostrated by the arrow that flieth by day, 
 nor by the pestilence that walketh in darkness ; but 
 he was brought to death in the midst of his years, a 
 victim to constant care and incessant toil for his 
 country's good. If it is sweet and praiscAvorthy to 
 die for one's country, it is surely sweeter and more 
 praiseworthy to die for the eternal well being of 
 one's people. We have now before us an illustrious 
 example of such a death. 
 
 Dr. Dickson was so tender and sympathetic that 
 he was touched by every note of sorrow, and ready to 
 bear upon his generous heart all the trials and dis- 
 couragements of his brethren. Knowing this. Chris- 
 tian mothers besought him to send missionaries to 
 care for their boys who had gone to the plains of 
 Nebraska, the far off Rocky Mountains, and beyond 
 the snow-capped peaks of the Sierras. College 
 classmates, from distant fields, begged of him, for 
 the sake of old and sacred associations, to help 
 them in their poverty, to relieve them in their em- 
 barassments, and cheer them in their despondency. 
 
Funeral Services at Balthnore. jog 
 
 Old friends pleaded with him to send the Word of 
 Life to their destitute neighborhoods, and remember 
 the perishing in their midst. These pitiful appeals 
 of mothers, classmates and friends rang in his ears 
 day and night. He presented them to God in pray- 
 er, pressed them on the attention of the churches, 
 and incorporated them in his great speeches before 
 the Synod and the General Assembly. All of this 
 was prostrating to the mind and paralyzing to the 
 powers of the body. 
 
 To a sensitive nature like his the draught upon 
 the nervous sensibilities, in ordinary times, must 
 have been almost beyond endurance ; but in such 
 years as followed the moneyed crisis of 1873 it was 
 unavoidably prostrating. The people as well as 
 their pastors suffered in many sections of our land 
 for the want of the necessaries of life, and the 
 Board was unable to render them the needed help. 
 Anxiety about the means necessary to carry on the 
 work of the Board greatly increased the burden un- 
 der which his stout heart was already staggering. 
 Be spent sleepless nights over the condition of the 
 work of Missions, and poured forth such loud ap- 
 peals in the ears of Presbyteries and Synods as de- 
 manded of him more vitality and nervous energy- 
 than he could afford to expend. When urged by his 
 friends to leave his work, and recruit his wasted 
 powers, his invariable reply was "not now." His 
 cry to the last was, " My country, my people, my 
 beloved church !" 
 
 The two characteristics that particularly distin- 
 
310 Memorial. 
 
 guished Dr. Dickson were his lovcableness and his 
 piety. Of him it may truly be said : 
 
 "None knew him but to love, 
 None named him, but to praise." 
 
 Even little children were attracted to him by his 
 pleasant smile and winning ways. His friends felt 
 that there was magic in his presence as well as mag- 
 netism in his tongue. No stranger ever approached 
 him but with respect amounting almost to love. 
 
 His crowning glory was, perhaps, his deep and 
 ardent piety, which rendered more attractive his 
 other shining traits of character. He combined in 
 admirable proportions, the emotional and the intel- 
 lectual. Though one of the most ardent of men, yef 
 he never felt that religion consisted in mere feeling, 
 however deep or heavenly. He was a Bible Chris- 
 tian. He incorporated its principles in his life and 
 actions and looked upon its precepts as the only in- 
 fallible rule of faith and practice. His Christian 
 experience and Christian activity went hand in hand. 
 He was. satisfied that he could impress others only 
 in proportion to the depths of his own personal 
 knowledge of what he was urging upon them. His 
 piety was not bold and demonstrative, but gentle 
 and full-fed from the perennial springs which flow 
 from the Eternal Hills. He fought a good fight, and 
 kept the faith. He laid his richest treasures, like 
 the wise men from the East, at the feet of King Je- 
 sus, and his name shall be had in everlasting re- 
 membrance. 
 
Fii7teral Services at Baltimore. jii 
 
 * 'Servant of God, well done ! 
 Rest from thy sweet employ; 
 The battle fought, the victory won, 
 Enter thy Master's joy." 
 
 After prayer, by Dr. Roberts, the coffin was borne 
 to the vestibule, attended by the clergymen, where 
 an opportunity was afforded to all who wished to 
 look upon the face of him whom they should see no 
 more on earth. 
 
 After the congregation had withdrawn, the family, 
 clergymen and bearers, and a few friends followed 
 the precious dust to Loudon Park Cemetery, where 
 it was lowered into its prepared resting place. The 
 remains of Louisa H. Dickson, the youngest child, 
 who died Nov. 4, 1857, had reposed in a vault be- 
 neath Westminister church until this morning, when 
 they had been laid in her father's grave. 
 
 As the first handful of earth was cast in, the Rev. 
 William J. Gill said : 
 
 " In the hope of a glorious resurrection we com- 
 mit earth to earth, ashes to ashes." 
 
 W^hen it was filled, an anchor of pure white flow- 
 ers and ivy leaves vv^as laid upon it by one whom he 
 had baptized in infancy and received to the commu- 
 nion of the church. 
 
 Then the Rev. Mr. Gill repeated : 
 
 '' I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He 
 shall stand at the latter day upon the earth : 
 
 And though after my skin worms destroy this 
 body, yet in my flesh shall I see God : 
 
 Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall 
 
^12 Memorial. 
 
 behold, and not another ; though my reins be con- 
 sumed within me. 
 
 And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto 
 me. Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the 
 Lord, from henceforth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that 
 they may rest from their labors ; and their works do 
 follow them/* 
 
 He then pronounced the Benediction, when the 
 company retired. 
 
 The Honorary Bearers were : 
 
 Benjamin Whiteley, W. K. Carson, 
 
 H. P. C. Wilson, D. Holliday, 
 
 E. H. Perkins, J. K. White. 
 
 The acting bearers were : 
 
 William G. Sproston, B. F. Smith, 
 
 George S. Sproston, E. S. Heath, 
 
 Russell Murdoch, J. J. Smith. 
 
 All twelve were friends of many years, and, with 
 one exception, had been officers or members of 
 Westminster church during his pastorate. That ex- 
 ception was an officer of another church. 
 
 It was a beautiful September day, and the warm, 
 bright sunshine, and the calmness and peace that 
 prevailed, together with the sweet words of comfort 
 that had been uttered, had a soothing influence 
 upon the little company that now separated for their 
 homes. 
 
III. 
 
 MEMORIAL SERVICES AT 
 FRANKLIN-, PENN. 
 
 ** What is done is done ; Jias already blended itself 
 
 ivitJi the boundless, eve Hiving^ everworking Universe, 
 
 and zvill also work there for good or for evil, openly or 
 
 seei'etly, throughout all tinier 
 
 Carlyle. 
 
 ^^The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance!^ 
 
 Psalm cxii. 6. 
 
III. MEMORIAL SERVICES AT FRANKLIN, 
 
 PENN. 
 
 When the tidings came that Dr. Dickson was no 
 longer amongst the hving of earth, the Session of 
 the church of Franklin, where he had exercised his 
 first ministry, was convened to take action express- 
 ive of their love for the man, and of reverence for 
 his memory. After conversation in regard to his 
 work in this individual church, and the yet more 
 important work in the church at large, the following 
 resolutions were adopted: 
 
 Whereas, God in his all wise providence has 
 called to his rest. Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D., a for- 
 mer pastor of this Church, a valued minister of Jesus 
 Christ, and a Secretary of one of the important 
 Boards of the Church ; therefore. 
 
 Resolved, I. That in this dispensation we recog- 
 nize the hand of God, and bow reverently to His 
 sovereign will. 
 
 //. That calling to mind the excellency of his 
 character, his valuable services to this church and 
 the church at large, we record our sincere sorrow 
 at his death, the testimony of our deep affection for 
 his memory, and our unalterable love for him as our 
 former pastor. 
 
Si6 Me?noriaL 
 
 III. That in view of his former relation to this 
 church and his life long attachment to it, and of the 
 deep love and reverence we bear in our hearts for 
 him, the chancel of the church be draped in mourn- 
 ing for thirty days, and a memorial service held on 
 Sabbath morning, Sep. 25th. 
 
 IV. That a copy of this paper be sent to the 
 family of our departed brother, and spread upon the 
 records of the. church. 
 
 Signed by the clerk. 
 
 In accordance with these resolutions, memorial 
 services were held in the church on the morning of 
 Sabbath, the twenty-fifth of September, 1881, TJie 
 chancel, reading desk, and tables were draped taste- 
 fully in sables by the loving hands of those who 
 had listened to the voice of the preacher in child- 
 hood. One of the large chairs in the chancel was 
 similarly draped, and on a small table by its side 
 was a large harp of Immortelles, the offering of a 
 life -long friend. Vases and baskets of flowers, the 
 spontaneous offerings of friends, were placed on the 
 desk, on the platform, and on the table beneath the 
 pulpit. The sweet breath of calla lilies mingled 
 with that of white carnations and rose buds floated 
 out on the atmosphere, and testified to the kind 
 memories that lingered in the community. 
 
 After a solemn and fitting anthem by the choir, 
 and Invocation, the 75 2d selection from the Hymnal 
 was sung : 
 
Memorial Services at Frankli7i, Penn. jiy 
 
 " Soon aud forever — such promise our trust," 
 Though ashes to ashes and dust unto dust — 
 " Soon and forever" our union shall be 
 Made perfect, our glorious Redeemer! in Thee; 
 When the sins and the sorrows of time shall be o'er 
 Its pangs and its partings remembered no more, 
 Where life cannot fail and where death caimot sever : 
 Christians with Christ shall be '' soon and forever." 
 
 " Soon and forever the work shall be done, 
 The warfare accomplished, the victory won; 
 Soon and forever the soldier lays down 
 His SAvord for a harp and his cross for a crown. 
 Then droop not in sorrow, despond not in fear, 
 A glorious to-morrow is brightening and near ; 
 "When — blessed reward of each faithful endeavor — • 
 Christians with Christ shall be "soon and forever." 
 
 After reading appropriate selections from the 
 Word, and prayer by the pastor, the five hundred 
 and eighty-seventh hymn was sung : 
 
 " What though the arm of conqu'ring death 
 
 Does God's ow^n house invade.? 
 What though the prophet and the priest 
 
 Be numbered with the dead? 
 
 Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust, 
 
 The aged aud the younij. 
 The watchful eye in darkness closed, 
 
 And mute th' instructive tongue. 
 
 Th' eternal shepherd still survives, 
 
 New comfoj't to impart ; 
 His eye still guides us ; and his voice 
 
 Still animates our heart. 
 
 * Lo I am with you ! ' saith the Lord ; 
 
 Thy church shall safe abide. 
 For Thou wilt ne'er forsake Thine own 
 
 Whose souls in Thee confide." 
 
ji8 Memorial. 
 
 The following memorial discourse was then de- 
 livered by the pastor of the church : Rev. S. J. M. 
 Eaton, D. D.: 
 
 Memorial Sermon. 
 
 ^^How is the strong staff broken y and the beautiful 
 rod r — Jeremiah xlviii : 17. 
 
 On the tomb of ^schylus of Athens was inscrib- 
 ed this brief sentence : **He was a soldier and 
 fought on the field of Marathon." This epitaph was 
 framed by himself. No mention was made of his great 
 excellencies as a poet. No reference to his wonder- 
 ful triumphs as a writer of tragedies, under the in- 
 fluence of which the multitude wept and laughed as 
 they were moved by the power of his genius and 
 his strong grasp of their emotional natures. There 
 was only to his mind this one fact : he had been a 
 soldier, and stood up for his country when the enemy 
 was thundering at its gates. In that heroic age war 
 bore in its bosom the very highest achievements of 
 human glory. To stand up for one's country, and 
 suffer and die in its cause, furnished the strongest 
 claims to immortality. The Spartan mother gave 
 her son a shield on the eve of his marching to bat- 
 tle, with the curt speech : ''Return with this, or on 
 it!" 
 
 The world has more light now than when ^schy- 
 lus fought at Marathon. The standard of heroism 
 is different now from what it was when mothers sent 
 their sons to battle and to death for a name and an 
 empty fame. The better light is that which beamed 
 
Memorial Se7'vices at Franklin, Pe7in. jig 
 
 forth from the cross planted at Jerusalem eighteen 
 centuries and a half ago. It is the light that goes 
 down into the deepest depths of the human heart, 
 and removes its gloom. It is the light that falls on 
 the pathway of human duty, and shows how the 
 grandest achievements in the life of an immortal 
 soul may be wrought out. It is the light that shows 
 the way up the steeps of life, and away beyond the 
 earth and the stars, to the very home of the Highest ! 
 
 And under this light and this sublime vision, the 
 highest triumphs of humanity are recorded in lan- 
 guage far different from that of the tragic poet of 
 Athens. The sublimest knowledge now is to know 
 the only true God and Jesus Christ whom He has 
 sent. The grandest achievements are wrought out 
 now, not on the tented field, not amid the roar and 
 crash of battle, but in the simple, sublime service of 
 Jesus Christ. In this service a name is to be se- 
 cured that will be bright when stars grow pale ; and 
 'crowns and palms and harps inherited, that will be 
 beautiful when all this world's fair things have turn- 
 ed to dust ! 
 
 The soldier of the Cross, the minister of Jesus 
 Christ, who has been faithful unto death, has achiev- 
 ed a success that surpasses "all Greek, all Roman 
 fame." His work on earth is in connection, not 
 with a temporal, but with a spiritual kingdom ; not 
 with wars and battles, the results of human ambi- 
 tion or human love of power, but of the pulling 
 down of the strongholds of sin and Satan, and the 
 
320 Me77iorial. 
 
 establishment of the kingdom of Christ on the earth, 
 and its final victory over the kingdom of sin. 
 
 And the work of God's people is partly on earth 
 and partly in heaven. It is carried forward here in 
 the midst of weakness and pain and dying. It, will 
 be carried forward hereafter in the light of God ; 
 away above the utmost bounds of the everlasting 
 hills, where worlds, that now seem like the powder- 
 ed star-dust on the robe of night, will be all ablaze 
 with the glory of God, and be fitting fields for the 
 service of the ransomed of the Lord throughout 
 the eternal years. 
 
 This world and all the worlds are fast anchored 
 to the throne of God. Just as the silver cord of 
 gravity binds them all together by physical law, so 
 does the golden cord of eternal love bind them all 
 together in the loving embrace of the Great Father 
 of light and love. 
 
 And the throne and the footstool may be nearer 
 together than we mortals ever dream of. If we had 
 the spiritual perception Jacob had at Bethel, we 
 might often see the same golden ladder that was 
 visible to him, reaching up from earth to heaven, and 
 not only the angels of God ascending and descend- 
 ing, but the redeemed of the Lord ascending its gol- 
 den rounds, under the convoy of the angels, going 
 up to higher spheres of service and more blessed 
 enjoyments in the realms of the beautiful. But our 
 visions are dull ; our conceptions are material, and 
 we judge from what we see with our natural eye, and 
 we think of heaven as very far away, and of those 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin Pemt. J2T 
 
 who leave us here as gone forever from our sight. 
 And when some illustrious servant of God lays down 
 his battered armor, and his shield and spear, bruised 
 and broken in the conflict, to go up to the presence 
 of the King, and be crowned, and enter upon his 
 kingdom, we cry out in our sorrow and tears : ''How 
 is the strong staff broken, and the beautiful rod ! " 
 
 We too often fail to read God's providence in the 
 light of the world to come. We do not avail our- 
 selves of the light God gives us to interpret what 
 else is so dark and mysterious. We look to poor 
 human reason alone, and are sadly misled in mat- 
 ters that are vastly above all reason and all natural 
 light. We try to look at the outer court and find all 
 mysteries solved there, and forget the glory of the 
 inner sanctuary, beautiful with light and with the 
 clear revelation of God. We weep over the present 
 and forget the joy of the future. We place our faces 
 in the dust of earth and cry out "how dark this world 
 is," and forget to look up at the stars, where the glory 
 of the Lord is revealed. When we cry out, how 
 is the strong staff broken, in regard to the depart- 
 ure of God's servants, we forget that God has said, 
 " I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God, 
 and he shall go no more out." We forget that the 
 beautiful rod, instead of being broken and thrown 
 away, has budded more beautifully in the House of 
 the Lord than did that of Aaron in the Tabernacle, 
 and is stronger and more beautiful in heaven than it 
 could be upon the earth. Earth is but the training 
 school of heaven. The redeemed of the Lord are 
 
^22 MemoriaL 
 
 on the earth prepared for their work in heaven. 
 And as true life only dawns when the gates of im- 
 mortality are thrown open, so the full service only 
 commences when God's people pass through this 
 gate, and look upon God, and see His kingdom in all 
 its length and breadth and beauty and glory ! Oh ! 
 not broken, but made strong is the staff, when the 
 sweet, restful change comes. Still more beautiful 
 and glorious is the beautiful rod, when the curtain 
 is rolled away that separates between the holy place 
 of this life and the Holy of Holies of the life to 
 come. 
 
 Providence has its great mysteries. We cannot 
 fathom them here ; we cannot take in the mighty 
 sweep of the pathway of Omnipotence, nor can we 
 see the steps by which He accomplishes His infinite 
 counsels. We but trust in His wisdom and faithful- 
 ness and leave results to Him. We sit under the 
 cloud and see but its dark shadow. We look only 
 at its sombre folds, its gloomy reflection, and at the 
 jealous hiding of the sunlight. We forget the rain 
 that is borne in its bosom to water the earth ; the 
 electricity that hides in its folds to purify the atmos- 
 phere and restore the equilibrium of its many for- 
 ces ; and lose sight altogether of the soft silver and 
 burnished gold that deck and beautify its upper stra- 
 ta, as the great sun looks upon it and paints it with 
 his golden beams. 
 
 We look at some beautiful and valuable life that 
 has gone out when we thought the world and the 
 church most needed it, and cry out, how mysterious 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Penn. J2J 
 
 are the ways of Providence ! How unsearchable are 
 His judgments, and His ways past finding out ! But 
 in this we are taking our view from the earthly 
 standpoint ; we see but the earth side of the cloud. 
 We forget the beautiful, heavenward side, all lustrous 
 with the light of God. So let us remember that the 
 life broken off here, however beautiful and valuable, 
 is continued in the hereafter — that the song with 
 mingled notes of pain and gladness, when broken 
 off here, will burst forth in beauty and joy, and be- 
 come lofty and triumphant forever in heaven. God 
 has some grand, excellent work in heaven for those 
 who have been his valued and faithful servants upon 
 earth. 
 
 The world is all beautiful and God's service on 
 earth desirable ; it bears with it so much sweetness 
 and joy ; but the world to come is far more beautiful, 
 and God's service infinitely more desirable than 
 here. And God chooses the time and the circum- 
 stances when His people shall be transfered to the 
 other side. 
 
 And there is the change from this world to the 
 next. There is the transfer from the present to the 
 future, 
 
 *' But lying darkly between. 
 
 Winding down through the night, 
 Is the silent, unknown stream. 
 
 That leads at last to the light. 
 Closer and closer come my steps 
 
 To the dread abysm 
 Closer death to my lips 
 
 Presses the awful chrism !" 
 
32^ Memo7nal. 
 
 But this stream is no longer an unknown tide. It 
 has been crossed by Him at whose footprints it 
 shrunk away as did Jordan at the footprints of the 
 priests who bore the Ark of the Lord. It is neith- 
 er deep nor cold now to those who have faith in 
 God and who walk by the side of Jesus. It is only 
 to our poor, imperfect vision that the change seems 
 so undesirable. It is because we cannot see that 
 the shadows that lie across the valley so terrify us. 
 In the light of the sublime faith of the Gospel of 
 Christ we can be quite sure that dying is to God's 
 people but going in to see the light and be at home 
 in eternal joy. 
 
 Cyrus Dickson was the third son of William and 
 Christiana Moorhead Dickson, and was born in Har- 
 bor Creek, Erie County, Pennsylvania, on the twen- 
 tieth day of December, 1816. He was a child of 
 the covenant. His father was an elder in the church 
 during the greater part of his manhood. At one 
 time he lived in Venango County, in the same 
 State ; in his later years he resided in the State of 
 Illinois. His mother was a daughter in the long 
 line of believing, praying Christians. He was early 
 dedicated to God in baptism, and from his earliest 
 childhood was taught the way of life. That mother's 
 prayers and quiet talks and earnest exhortations he 
 never forgot. Through this faithful. Christian educa- 
 tion, by the blessing of God's Spirit, he was brought 
 into the fold of Christ. He seemed to grow up into 
 the knowledge and truth of God, and to feel that he 
 belonged to the Lord, and so felt it not only a duty 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Penn. J2j 
 
 but a privilege to consecrate himself forever to His 
 service. 
 
 When but a boy he turned his face toward the 
 Gospel Ministry and commenced his preparatory 
 studies in the Erie Academy. Being a bright, hope- 
 ful boy, he made good progress in his studies, and 
 was in good time prepared for College. The young 
 collegian gave promise of his future devotion to the 
 Lord's work by engaging in the work of tract dis- 
 tribution during one of his vacations. It was in 
 1833, when a boy of seventeen years. The Brainard 
 Evangelical Society had published a little tract of 
 four pages, called "Duty to the Heathen," with a 
 resolution to place a copy of it in the hands of every 
 family in Western Pennsylvania. This work was to 
 be done by volunteer students. During the Fall va- 
 cation, Mr. Dickson, in company with two others, 
 volunteered to take the borough of Erie and nine 
 townships in his native county. From what we 
 know of the character and resolution of the man, 
 we may conclude that the work was accomplished. 
 In a letter yet extant, relating to this work, he says : 
 ''I must be about my Father's business." He gradu- 
 ated at Jefferson College, Canonsburg, Pennsylva- 
 nia, in 1837, and subsequently received the Honor- 
 ary degree of Doctor of Divinity from Washington 
 College in 1858. After his graduation he taught 
 for a time in New Jersey, in the neighborhood of 
 Princeton, carrying on his theological studies at the 
 same time, and was licensed to preach the Gospel 
 by the Presbytery of Erie on the fifteenth day of 
 
J26 Memorial. 
 
 October, 1839. ^^ December of the same year he 
 was sent as a supply to Franklin, Pennsylvania, at 
 that time vacant. At this place he gave such good 
 satisfaction, and so commended himself to the 
 hearts and judgments of the people that a call was 
 extended to him for his pastoral labors. This call 
 he accepted, and he was ordained and installed as 
 pastor by the Presbytery of Erie on the twenty- 
 fourth day of June, 1840. This was a most pleasant 
 relation to both pastor and people. The church of 
 Franklin was then small and weak, and for six years 
 he gave half his time to Sugar Creek, a congrega- 
 tion about seven miles in the country. The last 
 two years of his work at Franklin were given whol- 
 ly to that congregation. There were many young, 
 professional men in Franklin at that time, who af- 
 terwards became eminent in the political world, who 
 gave him their support and encouragement, and he 
 soon ranked as one of the most popular and prom- 
 ising young ministers in the church. There was a 
 brilliancy and glow about his preaching that were 
 peculiarly attractive to the hearers, and which gave 
 promise of a prominent future. 
 
 Early in the Spring of 1848, an effort was made 
 to secure his services in a second church in Wheel- 
 ing, West Virginia, then just organized. Very much 
 to the regret of the people of Franklin, the young 
 minister was constrained to regard this as a call from 
 above, and asked the Presbytery to dissolve his pas- 
 toral relation. This was done on the sixteenth day of 
 March, 1848, and Mr. Dickson was dismissed to the 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Pen7i. J2y 
 
 Presbytery of Washington. At the same meeting 
 of Presbytery calls for his pastoral labors had been 
 presented from the churches of Rock Island and 
 Camden, Illinois. These the Presbytery declined 
 putting into his hands. The pastoral relation with 
 the church in Franklin had continued about eight 
 years, attended by a good degree of success, and 
 was terminated with mutual respect and love on the 
 part of both pastor and people. 
 
 In his new field of labor in Wheeling, Mr. Dick- 
 son met with great success in building up the infant 
 church. He was assisted by a number of active, 
 vigorous helpers, who had connected themselves 
 with the organization, and soon had the satisfaction 
 of seeing the church growing and prospering 
 through the influence of the Spirit of God. His 
 labors seemed to be prospered and he had the mind 
 to work. 
 
 All these years he was growing, both intellectu- 
 ally and spiritually, and giving indications of the 
 sprightliness and brilliancy that characterized his 
 maturer years, when called to more important and 
 responsible fields. His popular manners, readiness 
 of speech and tact in seizing upon times and cir- 
 cumstances, in enforcino^ the truth and illustrating: 
 its power, gave him great advantages as a preacher 
 and as a guide to popular sentiment. He gave a fresh- 
 ness and zest to his discourses that rendered him 
 peculiarly the preacher of the day. While he was 
 not unfamiliar with close, laborious thinking, even 
 at this early day, yet he had the tact of introduc- 
 
J28 Memorial. 
 
 ing the illustrations of the present in such a way 
 as to make everything seem new and vivid. There 
 was the nicety of art in his manner, yet the out- 
 ward appearance of nature and simplicity that was 
 most pleasing and attractive. 
 
 In 1856 he accepted a call to the Westminster 
 church, Baltimore, Maryland : having served the 
 people of the second church in Wheeling to their 
 full satisfaction and profit. It seemed to him the 
 path of duty ; and with pain he sundered the ties 
 that bound him to his second pastoral charge, and 
 took up the work of his life once more amongst 
 strangers. But he was never long amongst strang- 
 ers. He made friends rapidly, and was soon at 
 home in his new field of labor. 
 
 Here, as in his other pastoral charges, he gather- 
 ed around him a willing band of faithful workers, 
 and the church was increased, strengthened and 
 edified. It seemed to him then that Baltimore 
 would be his field of labor for the remainder of his 
 active life. Both himself and family became great- 
 ly attached to the city and people, and felt as though 
 it was to be their home, after the changes that had 
 been their lot thus far in the Lord's work. 
 
 But the Master had other and more vigorous work 
 for His servant. There was to be a change in the 
 whole tenor and disposition of his work. And for 
 this, much of the rough, vigorous training of his 
 early life had been fitting him. The same wisdom 
 that took David from following the sheep and con- 
 tending with the lion and the bear, to rule over Is- 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Penn. J2g 
 
 rael, was now calling his servant who had seen hard 
 service in cultivating the paternal acres ; who had 
 toiled over the rough hills of Venango County, 
 Pennsylvania, seeking the lost sheep of the house 
 of Israel, and in building up the infant church of 
 Wheeling, in West Virginia, to one of the most re- 
 sponsible positions in the church. 
 
 At the time of the reunion of the two branches 
 of the church, in 1870, the work of Home Missions 
 assumed an importance it had never presented be- 
 fore. The field was greatly enlarged. What had 
 been the work of two churches was now consolida- 
 ted into one, and it was thought advisable to secure 
 the wisdom and judgment and labor of two Secreta- 
 ries. Dr. Henry Kendall had commended himself 
 grandly in his work in one of these branches, and 
 as another was sought, the choice fell upon Dr. 
 Dickson, who, by an unanimous voice, was elected 
 Co-ordinate Secretary with Dr. Kendall. This 
 opened up a new field of effort, and brought into 
 service powers of which his friends had hardly 
 dreamed. His popular manners and ready, extempo- 
 raneous speech adapted him to the work : first of la- 
 boring in the regions beyond, and secondly, of 
 arousing the Synods and General Assemblies, in his 
 annual visits to their meetings. In these visits he 
 not only appeared before every General Assembly, 
 but before a large proportion of the Synods, taking 
 them in rotation. He made himself familiar with the 
 wants of the Great West, visiting large portions of 
 it, extending one of his trips even to Texas. It was 
 
jjo Memorial. 
 
 his policy to see personally, as far as possible, every 
 missionary on the great lines of travel, by notifying 
 them to meet him at some point on the road nearest 
 to their field of labor. In this way he and the oth- 
 er Secretary, in course of time, were better prepared 
 for the conduct of their work. 
 
 But the result shows that he tested his powers, 
 both physical and mental, beyond their power of 
 endurance. That finely-woven nervous organiza- 
 tion could not long endure the strain that was 
 brought to bear upon it in the service of the 
 Board. That large brain, so thoroughly flooded 
 with blood, in times of public speech, must give way 
 under this almost constant excitement. That strong 
 physical frame could not endure all the burdens 
 laid upon it by the willing mind and the energetic 
 purpose. It had become evident to his friends, long 
 perhaps before the suspicion had crossed his own 
 mind, that the eloquent preacher, the faithful pas- 
 tor, and the brilliant Secretary, was taxing himself 
 beyond his powers, and was wearing out. The bright 
 Damascus blade was slowly wearing away the more 
 fragile scabbard, and there must be relief or the 
 work must fail. 
 
 It was at the meeting of the General Assembly 
 of 1880 that the church at large became aware of 
 his failing health, and of the probabilities that his 
 valuable services would be lost to the Board of 
 Home Missions. By the unanimous vote of that 
 General Assembly he was relieved for one year of 
 all labor and care in connection with the Board, in 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Penn. jji 
 
 the hope that rest and change of scene would re- 
 store him to his wonted health and vigor. 
 
 But the result has shown that his days of labor 
 and thought and active energy were over. The en- 
 suing sixteen months were spent chiefly amid the 
 scenes of his last pastoral labor, in the beautiful city 
 of Baltimore, where he closed his eyes in peace, in 
 the early morning of the Lord's Day, September ii, 
 1 88 1. Early on that Sabbath morning, ere the bells 
 had commenced ringing to summon the people to 
 the service of the Sanctuary on earth, the bells of 
 heaven rang out a glad peal of welcome to the ser- 
 vant of God as he entered into rest and received his 
 crown. 
 
 There was no note of triumph sounded at the 
 close. There were no last words of testimony whis- 
 pered as the change came. There was no need of 
 these to this life-long servant of the Lord. But 
 there was that peace God gives to his children. 
 There was comfort drawn from the living word, ere 
 disease had sapped the foundations of life, and 
 weakness had prostrated the powers so noble when 
 in health. There is the life to testify. There are 
 the long years of faithful, loving service rendered 
 to God and His Church ; and the testimony of the 
 thought, and the words and the works for nearly 
 half a century to show us that for him it was a most 
 blessed thing to die. We do not know what Paul's 
 last words were, nor what John, the beloved, felt in 
 the immediate prospect of the change ; we do not 
 know what Peter's testin"uony was as he hung upon 
 
JJ2 Memorial. 
 
 the cross ; but we do know how they all lived, and 
 so believe that they all died in faith, on. the testi- 
 mony of their godly lives. 
 
 His mortal remains were laid to rest on Wednes- 
 day, the 14th, in the Cemetery of Baltimore, near 
 those of an infant daughter, who had fallen asleep 
 during the period of his pastorate there. 
 
 In the early months of 1840, Dr. Dickson was 
 united in marriage with Miss Delia E. Mc Connell, 
 of Girard, Pennsylvania, who survives him. In her 
 he always found a most congenial companion : a wife 
 eminently adapted to his peculiar temperament, and 
 specially fitted to help him in his varied work. He 
 relied on her judgment; his restless, nervous tem- 
 perament was balanced by her cooler, quicker per- 
 ceptions ; her hopeful, cheerful disposition shed 
 light upon his way, when else it would have seemed 
 very dark, so that his heart could always safely 
 trust in her. 
 
 Besides the little infant that sleeps beneath the 
 flowers in Baltimore, three daughters survive their 
 father — Miss Margaret C, Mrs. P^va R. Smith, of 
 Illinois, and Mrs. Fannie D. Leavens, of Connecti- 
 cut. The aged mother of Mrs. Dickson, now ad- 
 vanced beyond the years of four score, has for more 
 than forty years been an inmate of the household. 
 
 The circle is broken now. A strong link in the 
 chain has been sundered. A sky that was bright 
 with sunshine and with stars has darkened, and the 
 clouds that have gathered will seem very heavy. 
 There will be quietness in the home where cheer- 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Pe?tn. jjj 
 
 fulness and peace and most blessed tranquility once 
 prevailed. There will be the changes common to 
 this world ; there will be the meeting and the part- 
 ing ; the sorrowing and the rejoicing; and then 
 there will be the glad reunion in the Father's House, 
 and the joyous Home-keeping forever! 
 
 In person Dr. Dickson was rather below the me- 
 dium stature, with massive chest and large neck, 
 clear, blue eye, over which his brow projected grand- 
 ly as the mountain cliff ; thin, sandy hair, becoming 
 somewhat gray in later years, and with a voice rich 
 and sweet and melodious as the evening voice of 
 bells. He had great fluency of speech, and like 
 Chrysostom of old, might well have been styled 
 ''the golden-mouthed." He had wonderful com- 
 mand of an audience. There was a magnetism in 
 the man that drew all hearts to him, and enchained 
 the attention until the last word was uttered. It 
 mattered not whether he was preaching the Gospel 
 in some quiet country church, or speaking on the 
 subject of his Missionary work before the august 
 General Assembly, he threw heart and soul into the 
 work, thrilling his own heart and the hearts of his 
 audience with the theme ; deluging his brain with 
 his heart's blood, and working up his fine nervous 
 organism to the most intense pitch, and then going 
 home to exhaustion and helplessness and despond- 
 ency. 
 
 Dr. Dickson did not often seek relief from labor. 
 An occasional- trip to the West to visit his aged 
 father gave him recreation, and increased his ac- 
 
JJ4 Me77iorial. 
 
 quaintance with that portion of the church, its 
 wants and its resources, that assisted him greatly in 
 the work of his later years. During his pastorate 
 in Baltimore, in the year 1856, he made a tour to the 
 Orient, extending his visit to Egypt, but failing to 
 reach the Holy Land on account of political troub- 
 les that had broken out in that portion of Syria. 
 Again, in 1877, he crossed the ocean as a delegate 
 to the Pan-Presbyterian Council in Edinburgh, 
 Scotland, on which occasion he extended his visit 
 through the United Kingdom and a portion of the 
 Continent. 
 
 His official position as Permanent Clerk of the 
 General Assembly, since the Re-union,'brought him 
 to all the meetings of that body, and enlarged the 
 circle of his acquaintance by bringing him in con- 
 tact with ministers and elders from all sections of 
 the church, and thereby greatly enlarging his sphere 
 of usefulness. 
 
 As a social man he possessed very many fine 
 qualities. There was a genial freshness in his nature 
 that was most attractive. He surpassed in conver- 
 sational powers, and was the chief attraction in so- 
 cial circles where he was present. He knew how 
 to unbend without descending to levity ; and there 
 was an Attic wit about him that relieved him from 
 all suspicion of dulness. In the home, and in the 
 social circle elsewhere, he was a power in inducing 
 cheerfulness and enjoyment. His range of reading 
 and of thought was large and his resources almost 
 inexhaustible. He seemed acquainted with the past 
 
MefHorial Services at Fra^iklin, Penn. jj§ 
 
 and its changes ; with the present and its improve- 
 ments ; and was well informed on all subjects, his- 
 torical, scientific and theological, so that his conver- 
 sation was at once interesting and instructive. 
 
 As a Christian, Dr. Dickson was a growing man. 
 With a loving faith in Jesus from the first of his 
 Christian life, there was in the latter half of his life 
 a steady, sensible growth in grace that made the 
 hearts of his friends glad. There was not the less 
 cheerfulness nor mirth even, but there was the 
 growing consciousness in the minds of his friends 
 that he was getting nearer to God, and that Christ 
 was increasingly precious to his soul. His whole 
 life seemed to embody the words of St. Paul : ''This 
 one thing I do." And this Christian growth con- 
 tinued throughout his entire professional life. It 
 was seen in the drift of his thoughts ; in the spir- 
 itual character of his conversation, and in his untir- 
 ing zeal in the Lord's work. 
 
 But he is perfect now. The dross has all been 
 removed. The wood, hay and stubble have all been 
 consumed, and the fine gold remains in its purity 
 and beauty. He stands beside the throne. He is 
 like Jesus. He sees Him as He is. 
 
 As a preacher he had rare power. He did not 
 write his sermons. They were prepared carefully 
 in his study from very meagre written briefs or 
 skeletons. His clear, comprehensive mind seemed 
 to grasp the subject almost intuitively, and mold it 
 into shape as by some unwonted power, adorning -it 
 with classical allusions, and fashioning it into chaste 
 
33^ Memorial. 
 
 and beautiful forms. His usual style of preaching 
 was the textual, analyzing the text, and word by 
 word elucidating its meaning, bringing out its force, 
 showing its connections, and making everything 
 about it as clear as the light of noonday. 
 
 His illustrations were very happy. They were 
 drawn from the ancient Classics ; from Mythology ; 
 from the Poets ; and from his own inexhaustible 
 knowledge of human nature. 
 
 His sermons were Scriptural. With all the flow- 
 ers of modern Poesy, and all the gorgeous drapery 
 of classic story and poetic legend, every sermon 
 was yet radiant with the bright tints of the Rose of 
 Sharon, and fragrant with the aroma of the Lily of 
 the Valley. There was beauty and grace, and at 
 the same time the rich marrow of the Gospel. 
 There was the truth and the life, and always a 
 pointing of the earnest soul to the Lamb of God 
 who takes away the sins of the world. 
 
 He preached, always, in every place, Christ the 
 Saviour of sinners, the Helper of the helpless, the 
 Joy of the sorrowing, the only Redeemer from sin 
 and from death. Whilst he preached the terrors of 
 the Law in fair proportion, he yet delighted in set- 
 ting forth the love of Jesus. The Healing Balm 
 and the living waters were to him always at hand, a 
 joy and a delight ; and these were placed before the 
 suffering and the sorrowing, with a tenderness and 
 an unction that showed how familar he was himself 
 with the Cross and the mercy seat. The applica- 
 tions of his sermons were always personal to the 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Pejin. jjy 
 
 hearer, tender and affectionate, and calculated to 
 seal the truth on the hearts and consciences of the 
 audience. 
 
 As a pastor he had rich and valuable gifts. He 
 was able to get very near to the hearts of his peo- 
 ple. In times of conviction and sorrow and des- 
 pondency, he could, by his tenderness and sympathy 
 and acquaintance with the human heart, find his way 
 to the very holy of holies of the soul's sanctuary. 
 He knew when and where to speak words of warn- 
 ing and reproof, as well as of caution and alarm ; and 
 when to speak of comfort, consolation and hope. The 
 living truth of God was what he relied on to lead 
 the soul to the truth, and this he applied most skill- 
 fully. 
 
 In trouble and sickness and bereavement he was 
 specially thoughtful, attentive and tender toward 
 his people. His words of consolation and comfort 
 brought healing and peace. He readily became 
 acquainted with all his congregation. He sought 
 them out, and became familiar with their wants. He 
 had a word for each one and a token of recognition 
 for all ages. By his pastoral gifts and their exer- 
 cise he attracted his people to himself and to their 
 church, and in this way increased greatly his influ- 
 ence over them ; and that influence was always ex- 
 erted to the utmost for their welfare. 
 
 As one of the Secretaries of the Board of Home 
 Missions, Dr. Dickson was brought prominently be- 
 fore the whole church. This was perhaps his great 
 work. In this position his great executive power 
 
jjS Memorial. 
 
 and his matchless eloquence were prime features of 
 his character. The entire church was charmed by 
 his thrilling addresses before the General Assembly. 
 The members of the Assembly were stirred to the 
 deep places of their souls as he pointed out the 
 greatness of the country's possibilities, its immense 
 resources, and the absolute necessity that the knowl- 
 edge of the Gospel should be kept abreast with the 
 growing population that was filling up the Missis- 
 sippi valley, surging over the Rocky mountains, and 
 sweeping toward the mighty Pacific. All this, inter- 
 spersed with illustrations and anecdotes, made a 
 very deep impression on the audience. 
 
 On the occasion of his last visit to Great Britain, 
 whilst in attendance at the Pan-Presbyterian Coun- 
 cil, at Edinburgh, he delivered one of his character- 
 istic Home Mission Addresses. The ears of the 
 people were opened and their hearts enlarged by the 
 stirring addresses that had gone before, and he 
 spoke in his best vein. As he enlarged in his won- 
 derful description of this country ; its boundless 
 territory ; its inexhaustible treasures ; its rapid in- 
 crease of population, and the vast sweep of its influ- 
 ence on the age and on the world, and the conse- 
 quent necessity of taking possession of it for God 
 and His Christ, the impression made on the audi- 
 ence was tremendous. One of the foremost of 
 Scotland's thinkers made the remark afterward that 
 he doubted whether there was a man in the United 
 Kingdom who could have made such an impression 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Pemi. jjg 
 
 on that cultured audience as was made by the elo- 
 quent American. 
 
 This congregation will remember the last time 
 he was amongst us, and how eloquently he discours- 
 ed on his favorite theme. It was in September, 
 1875. His thrilling address reached down into your 
 hearts, your sympathies, and your pockets, as they 
 have never been reached before nor since. And 
 this was but a sample of the effect produced when 
 he poured out his whole soul in pleading the Lord's 
 cause in behalf of Home Missions. 
 
 His feeling of attachment and love for this, his 
 first charge, was very strong ; and, conversely, the 
 love of this congregation for him was stronger than 
 for any other man who ever brought his influence 
 to bear upon it. I know well the feeling of grief 
 and sadness that pervaded your hearts when the 
 news came that he was dead. We can hardly yet 
 realize it, for he seemed so well when he was last 
 amongst us, and appeared still in the prime of his 
 grand manhood. 
 
 But he has gone from amongst us. He has pass- 
 ed in to look upon the unseen of the earth. And 
 whilst we are sad that we shall see his face no more 
 upon earth, that we shall no more feel the warm 
 grasp of his hand, and no more look into those kind- 
 hng eyes, there is yet a chastened gladness in the 
 thought that he has found rest. That lithe, active 
 form, so often weary with the toils of his daily labor, 
 now rests in the embrace of the quiet earth. That 
 great, restless brain, so full of great thoughts and 
 
34^ Memorial. 
 
 sympathies and plans for the good of the church, 
 yet withal so weary, no longer throbs with pain nor 
 is oppressed with weariness, as it was in the work 
 here. Invisible burdens no longer rest upon his 
 shoulders. The great wrestling with the intricate 
 problems of daily life and duty no longer oppresses 
 him. He has found relief from all his burdens, and 
 peace and triumph after all his conflicts. After the 
 storm and the clouds how sweet must be the eter- 
 nal sunshine ! 
 
 Yea, verily, we seem to hear a great voice coming 
 to us, above the cries and the heart sobs of time ; 
 above the echo of falling sands on the narrow sepul- 
 cher ; above the words of farewell and parting upon 
 earth. It is the voice of the Lord, full of all glad- 
 ness and melody : ''Well done good and faithful 
 servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord !" And 
 there are other voices that come to us, broken, yet 
 sweet ; far off, yet thrilling with unutterable melo- 
 dy : — "These are they who have come up out of 
 great tribulation, and have washed their robes and 
 made them white in the blood of the Lamb !" 
 
 And of the society of the ransomed, the Apostle 
 has spoken these words : "Ye are come to Mount 
 Zion, to the City of the living God, the heavenly 
 Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of an- 
 gels, and to the General Assembly and Church of 
 the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to 
 God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men 
 made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new 
 covenant." 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Penn. j^i 
 
 Here then, is the grand society into which this 
 faithful pastor, this earnest laborer in God's great 
 field has entered, as he closed his eyes upon all 
 earthly toil. In the light of God's word and of a 
 tender faith in the unseen, we can imagine the as- 
 cended soul under convoy of the angels, just landed 
 on the threshold of the gate of pearl, with the shim- 
 mer of golden streets and the magnificence of jew- 
 eled walls bursting upon his view, and the joyous 
 melody of the songs of white-robed worshippers fall- 
 ing upon his ears, seeking first of all Jesus, the 
 Saviour and Redeemer. And finding Him and rend- 
 ering to Him the homage of a loving, redeemed spir- 
 it, we may suppose him going forth to seek and 
 converse, not alone with Abraham, but with Adam 
 and Enoch, and Noah, and other of the first-born 
 prophets of the Lord before the flood, and with all 
 that came after ; the Martyrs and witnesses of 
 Jesus, who wear crowns on their brows, and bear 
 palms in their hands. 
 
 And this society, the very elite of all the uni- 
 verse, what does it all mean "^ It implies knowledge 
 of the Highest, of His grand nature, and of the mag- 
 nificence of His kingdom, and the glory of His 
 dominion, and the eternal resources of His home ! 
 
 What if from Adam he hears anew the story of 
 Creation as he heard it from the lips of God ! What 
 if with Noah he hears of the terrors of the flood, and 
 of the goodness of the Lord in his preservation ! 
 What if with Moses he hears recounted anew the 
 wonderful chapters of Genesis, that tell of the origin 
 
S42 Memorial. 
 
 of the earth and all human affairs ! What if with 
 Isaiah he looks down the centuries of time to see all 
 the light of all the ages gathering around the Cross of 
 Calvary ! What if with Paul he hears once more the 
 story of his conversion at Damascus, his visions and 
 revelations from the Lord, and his triumphant death 
 at Rome ! What if with John he hears the recital 
 of those wondrous Patmos visions, when the rocky 
 isle was glorified by the light that streamed down 
 from the open door of Heaven, and when, even upon 
 earth, the beauty and glory of the New Jerusalem 
 came down to give him a foretaste of its joy ! And 
 what if with others, the mighty ones of science, the 
 illustrious ones in the great field of thought, he ex- 
 plores all the mysteries of creation and learns all 
 the secrets of the stars, as he listens to their songs 
 and bathes in the amethystine light of their glory ! 
 
 Imagination grows weary in its flight, and even 
 faith is almost dazzled at the prospect, yet no height 
 is too exalted ; no glory too radiant ; no song too tri- 
 umphant, for those who have been redeemed by the 
 death of the Son of God. No place will be too high 
 beneath the very summit of the throne of God, for 
 immortal souls washed and made white in the blood 
 of the Lamb, redeemed from sin, and purchased by 
 infinite and eternal love. 
 
 Yet the crowning glory and joy ; the perfection 
 of all life will be the living, glowing, joyous presence 
 and love of Jesus, throughout all the ages, the Lord 
 Teacher, Friend, Beloved of the soul. 
 
Memorial Services at Franklin, Penn. j^j 
 
 Oh, say not then in your grief and sadness this 
 day : ** How is the strong staff broken, and the 
 beautiful rod!" for the staff has become a pillar in 
 the Temple of God ; the beautiful rod has become 
 still more beautiful, blooming forever in the Eden 
 of the Lord. 
 
 Farewell then, friend of our early years ; once 
 pastor of this little flock ; valiant soldier of the cross ; 
 eloquent preacher of Christ ; earnest lover of country 
 and of Zion ; farewell for a little time ; we will watch 
 and wait until the day shall dawn to us too, and the 
 shadows flee away from our visions as from thine, 
 when we shall meet again, and together live and love 
 and sing on the steeps of Mount Zion, and be for- 
 ever with the Lord ! 
 
 The discourse was delivered to a crowded house, 
 whose quietness and solemnity bore witness to the 
 love and respect that were felt for their former pas- 
 tor and the kind remembrance of the worth and 
 services of the departed to the church at large. 
 
 The services were closed by singing the thirty- 
 second chant : 
 
 "Beyond the smillug and the weeping 
 
 1 shall be soon; 
 Beyond the waking and the sleeping 
 Beyond the sowing and the reaping 
 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest and Home I sweet Home I 
 
 Lord I tarry not, but come. 
 
 Beyond the parting and the meeting 
 
 1 shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the farewell and the greetiug, 
 
S44 Memorial. 
 
 Beyond the pulse's fever beating-, 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Love, rest and Home ! sweet Home ! 
 
 Lord ! tarry not, but come. 
 
 Beyond the frost chain and the fever 
 
 I shall be soon ; 
 Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
 Beyond the ever and the never, 
 
 I shall be soon. 
 Love, rest and Home ! sweet Home ! 
 
 Lord ! tarry not, but come !" 
 
 This was followed by the benediction and the 
 departure, and the sweet memories of the early pas- 
 tor and his great work for the church. 
 
IV. 
 •WORDS OF SYMPATHY. 
 
 ^^Fast as tJie rolling seasons bring 
 
 The hour of fate to those zve love, 
 Each pearl that leaves the broken string, 
 
 Is set in friendsJiip' s crown above. 
 As narrower grozus the earthly cJiain, 
 
 The circle widens in the sky ; 
 These are onr treasures that remain. 
 
 But those are stars that beam on high.'' 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 ^^Eear ye one another s burdens and so fulfil the 
 
 law of ChiistJ* 
 
 Gal. vl 2 
 
IV. WORDS OF SYMPATHY. 
 
 The following extracts from letters received 
 by Dr. Dickson's family, breathe alike the spirit of 
 sympathy and of strong faith. They are the spontane- 
 ous outburst of hearts sorely smitten by a common 
 affliction, and going forth in sympathy to a bereav- 
 ed household. They come from all portions of the 
 American church and from across the great ocean, 
 bearing witness to the deep hold the departed min- 
 ister had upon the entire church and on friends be- 
 yond. They were written at nearly the same date, 
 showing that the electric current of friendship touch- 
 ed at once the hearts of a multitude of friends, 
 and inspired them to speak words of sympathy and 
 comfort and consolation. 
 
 These letters are all pervaded by the same spirit : 
 it is the feeling of great loss toward those that re- 
 main, but of hope and confidence and almost joy 
 for the one who has departed. 
 
 Whilst there is sorrow that one so good and kind, 
 and unselfish, and so valuable to home and friends 
 and church has been taken away ; there is the com- 
 mon, uniform feeling that he has entered into the 
 joy of his Lord, and is among the crowned kings 
 who minister before the throne. 
 
 They seem, like the precious box of ointment 
 
34^ AIe?norial. 
 
 that was poured on the head of the Lord, to breathe 
 a most fragrant perfume, and are fittingly placed 
 with other tributes to the memory of the departed. 
 
 Sept. 1 88 1. 
 *lf you could only be helped by the sympathy 
 that rolls up for you from a hundred loving hearts 
 that feel they have some share in your irreparable 
 loss ! For I think, all who knew and loved the 
 great soul that has gone, feel they will not look up- 
 on his like again, but I pray that his influence may 
 always be active in our lives. For myself I think 
 the memory of his noble character, made so through 
 faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, will always be some- 
 thing firm and convincing to hold to, in the surging 
 sea of doubt and scepticism and speculation which 
 threatens to engulf us." 
 
 Sept. 12, i88i. 
 *'I feel that the death of Dr. Dickson is a person- 
 al affliction to me. There is not a brother in the 
 ministry that I loved more dearly than your sainted 
 husband. I went to him unhesitatingly with all my 
 cares and troubles. I told him many things that I 
 never told to another. He is gone. I can hardly 
 realize the* thought that I shall see his face no more. 
 But I expect to have very delightful converse with 
 loved ones in heaven." 
 
 Sept. 12, i88i. 
 "Your father, as you are well aware, was every- 
 thing to me that a person of his position and influ- 
 ence could be to another who needed and appreciat- 
 
Words of Sympathy. J4g 
 
 ed his services. To realize that He has passed away, 
 that I am no longer to meet and converse with him, 
 that in no trial God may have appointed me I am 
 to have his good and invaluable counsel and prayers, 
 is a task that I can but slowly perform, although 
 the undoubted words have been given me." 
 
 Sept. 13, 1 88 1. 
 *T wish I could go to you, much as I should miss 
 the warm welcome and pleasant smile of him, whom 
 I am very grateful to be permitted to call friend in 
 the real sense of the term ; and what a sincere friend 
 he was ! What a blessing he has been to the world ; 
 what a grand work he has done ; and now the Master 
 has called him up higher to be with Him. What a 
 blessed meeting of dear old friends and what rest /" 
 
 Sept. 13, 1881. 
 "We feel that we have indeed lost a friend in him 
 whom we have long loved. Ever since those days 
 when, as Aunt L 's Pastor in Baltimore, we learn- 
 ed to love and appreciate him. He was such a wel- 
 come guest here and we had so hoped for another 
 visit from him. We will never forget his earnest 
 prayer for the stranger, in which we felt included 
 when we first visited Baltimore." 
 
 Sept. 13, 1881. 
 *'I have a part in your great sorrow. He who 
 was your husband was my intimate and very dear 
 friend, probably more intimate and more dear than 
 any with whom it has been my happiness to walk in 
 close and confiding companionship. 
 
j^o Memorial. 
 
 He has ceased from his labors and entered upon 
 his rest. On earth it will be published far and wide 
 'Dr. Dickson is dead.' Many who knew him per- 
 sonally and many who knew him only by report, will 
 say one to another, 'Dr. Dickson is dead !' In heav- 
 en the glad word is, 'Cyrus Dickson has entered in- 
 to life." 
 
 There is sorrow in the church on earth — there is 
 joy in the church in heaven. He is one of the ever- 
 increasing cloud of witnesses to the all-overcoming 
 power of faith in Christ Jesus. " If ye loved me 
 ye would rejoice because I said I go unto my 
 Father, for my Father is greater than I." 
 
 He has fought the good fight, he has finished his 
 course, he has kept the faith, and now he wears the 
 crown of righteousness, given him by the Lord, the 
 righteous Judge. He was not cut down premature- 
 ly, judged by the grand work he accomplished. 
 Worn out in that work — a work to him of love — the 
 voice came down to him, ' Come up hither ' and so 
 he gladly went and entered into the joy of his 
 Lord." 
 
 Sept. 13, 1881. 
 
 "This life is not all. Dr. Dickson had been a 
 faithful laborer in the Lord's vineyard. He had 
 worked on in weariness, and faintness, and exhaus- 
 tion, and the Lord accepted his work. But He has 
 still other work for him. The kingdom is not all in 
 this world. The same service is not all here. The 
 kingdom in its glory is on high. There is work 
 there as well as honor and glory. To that higher 
 
Words of Sympathy, j§i 
 
 work he has been called. And he now works for 
 the same Master for whom he worked upon the 
 earth. But he works now without toil, or weari- 
 ness, or tears. He works now not under the noon- 
 tide sun, but in the sweet, blessed light of the Lord 
 God and the Lamb." 
 
 Sept. 14, 1881. 
 
 *• It was with great sorrow that I heard of your 
 bereavement — yes, and mine, for he was very dear 
 to me. He was the first one that led me to the Sa- 
 viour, and the first that gave me an incentive to 
 study — but he has gone home a little before us and 
 is at rest — blessed rest to the weary, tired one, and 
 his works do follow him." 
 
 Sept. 14, 188 1. 
 
 "What a life of unbroken service, of constant de- 
 votion, of unshaken faith, was your father's ! What 
 stars and jewels sparkled and shone in that crown 
 he has already cast at his Saviour's feet ! How 
 sweet his rest ! how unspeakable his joy, how glo- 
 rious his reward ! 
 
 But how large a place he has left empty in your 
 hearts and in the church — who can fill it } I re- 
 member that Christ has promised to abide with His 
 people, and to dwell in the church. I know that 
 what He does is wisest and best, and yet I find my- 
 self casting about, and asking who of men can take 
 your father's place .'* 
 
 Who can take up the work where he has left it .-* 
 I know no one whose Christian character seems so 
 well rounded and complete as his." 
 
35^ Meynorial. 
 
 Sept. 14, 1881. 
 
 " Your sorrow is my sorrow. He was so lovely, 
 so good, everything that could be desired — to me it 
 seemed that he could not be spared, his usefulness 
 was so great. But our Heavenly Father knew best. 
 * His ways are not our ways.' Your father's pray- 
 ers at family worship I shall never forget. They 
 were always good and comforting. Even this sum- 
 mer he prayed so lovingly for me." 
 
 Sept. 14, 1 88 1. 
 
 " His life has been a full one. He has most fully 
 realized the adage that * It is better to wear out 
 than to rust out.' I know of no man who was more 
 thoroughly consecrated to the Master's service. 
 And how he will be missed ! You, dear madam, and 
 your daughters are far from being the only ones to 
 mourn his transfer from this to the broader field of 
 usefulness and glory. And are we sure that the 
 broader field must exclude this lesser one entirely .'' 
 < Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to 
 minister to them that shall be heirs of salvation t ' 
 Who } If angels, why not men 1 Men redeemed 
 by grace. But for him this service will be lacking 
 in every particular which tended, ' whilst in the body 
 pent ' to make it irksome or disheartening. 
 
 Thousands of homes throughout our boundless 
 West will long continue to lament one whose cease- 
 less energy and unflagging faith sent so many bless- 
 ings to them." 
 
Words of Sympathy. JJJ 
 
 Sept. 14, 1 88 1. 
 
 " My heart is stirred with sympathy for you and 
 your daughters in this your hour of deep affliction. 
 I can never forget the many happy hours I have 
 spent in your family, nor the many reasons I have 
 for gratitude to your dear husband for encourage- 
 ment and helps in my preparation for the ministry. 
 I would crave it as a privilege to be considered by 
 you in the number of those who admired and loved 
 him while living and who now sincerely mourn his 
 death. 
 
 God in his inscrutable wisdom has permitted one 
 of the pillars of His earthly temple to fall, and the 
 shock is felt throughout our Presbyterian Zion. I 
 don't believe there is a minister in our church 
 whose removal would touch more hearts or affect 
 more importantly the general interests of religion. 
 
 It must always be an unspeakable satisfaction to 
 you that he was permitted to accomplish so grand a 
 work for the cause of Christ. And now his works 
 do follow him. The toil and anxiety which wore 
 him out are ended. The ardent affections which 
 made him so attractive in life, now find scope and 
 exercise in the society of the redeemed. With 
 pious kindred who went before him, and many of 
 his early friends and a great company of those who 
 were turned to God through his ministry, he be- 
 holds the glory and sings the praises of that Saviour 
 whom he preached so faithfully." 
 
jj-/ Memorial. 
 
 Sept. 14, 1881. 
 ''It is now just the hour when the congregation 
 is assembled in dear Westminster, whence the form 
 of him who for so many years was its Hght and 
 charm was to be borne away to return no more. 
 
 The tone of tenderness, the voice of ringing 
 earnestness, the tongue of silvery eloquence is si- 
 lent, but the memory will linger in those walls for- 
 ever. 
 
 What a grand life it was, so helpful, so earnest, 
 so gifted, always dispensing brightness and impart- 
 ing strength." 
 
 Sept. 15, 1881. 
 
 '* We find it very hard to realize that we have seen 
 your dear father's genial and kindly face for the last 
 time on earth. He was just such a man as to kin- 
 dle in the hearts of others a warm personal attach- 
 ment, and I suppose there is no man in the whole 
 church who has so many warm friends, and many 
 will be the pang of sorrow felt in hearts all over this 
 broad land. Your honored father seemed to possess 
 just the gifts and qualities for eminent success and 
 usefulness in his high office." 
 
 Sept. 15, 1 88 1. 
 " I honored and loved the Doctor so sincerely and 
 deeply that I shall always mourn his loss. He was 
 a true friend to me, kind and fatherly in all his in- 
 tercourse with me, and some of his letters and mes- 
 sages will cheer and help me throughout life. 
 
Words of Sympathy. j§§ 
 
 Now his most useful life is ended and he has gone 
 to the land where none shall say ' I am sick.' 
 
 How often I have thought of the good-bye he 
 gave me when I first set out for . He repeat- 
 ed that beautiful verse in the last of Philippians, 
 ' Be careful for nothing * * * * and told me to 
 take it for a motto. 
 
 What a joy it would have been to have had Dr. 
 Dickson preach to this large congregation from the 
 old pulpit in which Whitefield stood ! Who else could 
 so stir the hearts of men, with enthusiasm for mis- 
 sions ? I know not one who can. But the Head of 
 the Church will take care of His own cause. 
 
 I can not say what I feel to-night. To think at 
 all of my own loss is selfish. The church, the na- 
 tion, and Dr. Dickson's family have lost so much 
 that of them and not of my own grief should I 
 think." 
 
 Sept. 15, 1881. 
 
 *' Through the whole of my married life is woven 
 the golden thread of friendship with your dear fam- 
 ily. I remember how enthusiastically dear Mr. 
 
 talked to me of Dr. Dickson before I knew him — 
 
 how Mr. loved and valued him as long as 
 
 he lived — how many, many times his kind, cordial 
 greeting and cheerful, earnest words sent me on my 
 w^ay happier and better for having met him ! How 
 often I enjoyed his hospitality, and I can but feel 
 that though .... I also feel a sense of personal 
 loss : he was more to me than the rest. 
 
J5^ Me^norial. 
 
 How many of our dearest and best have gone one 
 
 by one into the 'better land.' A year ago Prof. 
 
 and now Dr. Dickson, and we have no such friends 
 left. The loss to the world and the church of men 
 of such pre-eminent ability, is very sad, but now I 
 can only think of him and of you, and of the loss to 
 ourselves." 
 
 Sept. 15, 1881. 
 
 " Since I read the telegram sent to Mr. , I 
 
 have had you all constantly in my mind, and have 
 lived over in memory the many times in which dear 
 Mr. Dickson gave me proof that he was never too 
 busy to interest himself in my welfare. When I 
 went away among strangers a letter from him se- 
 cured me acquaintances which were of great service 
 — then at different times there was the same active 
 kindness exerted in my behalf. Doubtless, hun- 
 dreds of people are pouring the same tale into your 
 ears, now too dull with suffering to heed it, but chil- 
 dren and grand children will hold such testimony 
 in precious memory." 
 
 Sept. 15, 1881. 
 ■~*'A highly gifted honest and earnest worker in 
 the cause of Christ, and one in the foremost rank of 
 the Lord's band is gone, and will be missed and 
 mourned by all, but my heart turned to the little 
 band at home whose lives were so woven with his in 
 the woof of love and tenderness, without one broken 
 thread or a blur of any kind — in whose lives came 
 no jars, no discords to bring a pang to the hearts 
 
Words of Sympathy. 3S7 
 
 now of those he has left crushed and broken. The 
 picture of your family life as I knew it long ago was 
 always to me one of the very brightest and liveliest 
 I ever knew, and I know what desolation has come 
 upon it. 
 
 *' Such a record of devoted, earnest, self-sacrific- 
 ing work in his Master's cause ! and when he had 
 nothing more to offer, he laid down his own life, as 
 the result of too intense interest in the cause of 
 man, for Jesus' sake." 
 
 Sept. 12, 1881. 
 " Hundreds of our missionaries have expressed 
 their sorrow that he has been laid aside from the 
 active duties of his noble work. The Master has 
 called him from his lower work on earth to his 
 home in heaven." 
 
 Sept. 22, 1881. 
 
 ''Who can fathom the depth of God's love for 
 him } If we would keep him with us here, to cheer 
 and help us bear this life's burdens, shall we won- 
 der at the Father's desire to have His oivii with 
 Him safe from all further care and burden t " 
 
 Sept. 16, 1881. 
 '* Our dear Cyrus was my most faithful friend and 
 most trusted adviser in the world. Next to my own 
 father and in some respects taking precedence even 
 of him, in things pertaining to our profession, he 
 was my counselor and friend, from the moment our 
 hands clasped at the end of 1864, until the last 
 
J ^8 Memorial. 
 
 weariness was ended in the last sleep. And, as Dr. 
 Smith remarked, '' Heaven is the dearer because he 
 is there !" 
 
 Sept. 1 6, 1 88 1. 
 " I write to you with the feeling that hereafter all 
 that the Bible says about Heaven, will appeal to you 
 with the emphasis of a married life, than which, 
 none I know of breathed more of the holy fragrance 
 of true hearted love. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Dickson, you were '* lovely and pleas- 
 ant in your lives " and in death you are not divided. 
 For that Master in whose service he spent his life 
 has said ' whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall 
 never die. ' 
 
 As I think of you I cannot but recall Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld's address to Life. Yourself and husband have 
 been long together through pleasant and through 
 cloudy weather. It was not yours to say 'good 
 night ' when he entered the Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death. But it is yours to look forward to the 
 time when in Heaven's brighter clime, he will bid 
 you 'good morning' : and so shall you ever be with 
 the Lord. " 
 
 Sept. 1 6, 1 88 1. 
 
 " He has entered, not at a way-side rest but the 
 rest at the end of the journey provided for such as 
 he by the Master whom he has so long served. 
 
 It is not for me to even attempt to set forth 
 his virtues. Others, who have been allowed more 
 intimate acquaintance, with him, will do that better 
 
Words of Sympathy. JS9 
 
 than I can, but I may be allowed to say that I shall 
 miss my good friend till my life ends. His strong, 
 manly religion greatly won me to him. His cheer- 
 ful, abundant hospitality, when I was among strang- 
 ers, I cherish among the brightest memories of my 
 hfe. 
 
 I feel grateful to you dear Madam for counting 
 me among the friends of him whose 'ascended soul 
 under the convoy of Angels ' has * landed on the 
 threshold of the gate of pearl.' There in the 
 Father's good time may we all meet him." 
 
 Sept. 17, 1 88 1. 
 
 " You are well aware of the affectionate regard 
 we had for each other, and how often he and I to- 
 gether poured out our hearts' desire to God for a 
 blessing on the Church so dear to us both and bap- 
 tized by him with many tears. Now our prayer will 
 be for grace to walk in his footsteps and to follow 
 him as he followed Christ." 
 
 Sept. 17, 1 88 1 
 
 "There is wonderful consolation for those who 
 are called to mourn as you are, sorrowing not 'even 
 as others who have no hope,' but feeling assured that 
 the loving husband and father is now gone before 
 you. 
 
 I need not try to say a word for your comfort. I 
 only wish to tell you that we all most tenderly 
 sympathize with you all. The thousands of Israel 
 share in some measure your grief and pray for your 
 support and consolation." 
 
j6o Memorial. 
 
 Sept 17, 1 88 1. 
 
 "■ You are not unaware of the affectionate regard 
 in which Brother Dickson and I have held each 
 other. Our special intimacy dates back to my pas- 
 toral settlement in this place, only a few months af- 
 ter his at Wheeling. I recall our brotherly fellow- 
 ship as co-presbyters, as well as our consultations 
 and co-operation in the wider affairs of the church 
 since. And I shall never forget, the personal, con- 
 fidential and Christian intercourse we have had at 
 different stages of our lives. He was just three 
 months my senior in age, and our service in the 
 Lord's work has kept pace with the passing years. 
 I wish I could say that I had done as grand and far- 
 reaching a work, as his. Deep is the mystery of his 
 call to stop in the midst of his usefulness. But the 
 Master has announced it to be enough, and we must 
 wait until hereafter, to know the reason. 
 
 He will still live in the heart of the church he 
 served so long and well. His abiding in the hearts 
 of his ministerial brethren shall be perpetual. He 
 has already heard from the Lord Himself, well done, 
 good and faithful servant.' Farewell, my beloved 
 brother, and I hope to meet thee ere long in the 
 home of the blessed !" 
 
 Sept. 17, 1 88 1. 
 
 "All my recollections of your dear Father are sweet 
 to me. He came to our house when my first-born 
 babe was a helpless, suffering little one, and, asking 
 that he might see my boy, pleased my young moth- 
 
Words of Sympathy. j6i 
 
 er-heart by his tender, loving, words. I never for- 
 got this visit and always have loved to recall it." 
 
 Sept. 17. 1881. 
 I have nothing but pleasant memories of Dr. 
 Dickson in all my intercourse with him. He was a 
 Christian gentleman, a successful Preacher and Pas- 
 tor and a mighty power in his last official position. 
 The church will long feel the want of his eloquent 
 tongue in pleading the cause of Home Missions." 
 
 Sept. 19, 1881. 
 "My heart goes out to you, in your great sorrow, 
 with inexpressible tenderness. Few marriages are 
 as perfect as yours, and for long years you have en- 
 joyed that union of thought and feeling with a gift- 
 ed, consecrated soul which is the privilege only of 
 a loved and honored wife. 
 
 You do not mourn alone — ''A prince has fallen in 
 Israel" and the Presbyterian church of the whole 
 country feels the loss of a trusted and honored lead- 
 er. A little waiting, a little more work, and you will 
 go and join your beloved, where there will be no 
 more parting, but fulness of joy forever." 
 
 Sept. 23. 1881. 
 ''The tender, genial nature that made his life such 
 sunshine to others made him greatly beloved and 
 now greatly mourned in my home. 
 
 My wife and children shared my joy in having his 
 bright, beautiful companionship," 
 
j62 Me^norial. 
 
 Sept. 26. 1 88 1. 
 
 "Your husband has gone to reap his reward, a re- 
 ward for service long and well done for the Master 
 he loved. 
 
 I shall never forget the kindness he showed me 
 personally. When I was licensed by the Baltimore 
 Presbytery, he took me by the hand, spoke encour- 
 agingly to me and literally led me to your home, 
 where, it is needless to say, I was treated with all 
 due hospitality and respect. Ever, from that day to 
 this, did he manifest a great readiness to help me in 
 any way he could." 
 
 Sept. 27. 1881. 
 
 "To be about -his Master's business seemed to be 
 the sole thought of his life — our regret is that one 
 so anxious to serve could not be allowed to work 
 longer in the vineyard. 
 
 His zeal and earnestness, full of vitality and ten- 
 derness, his very life imprinted itself indelibly 
 upon our hearts and memories — always sympathiz- 
 ing, exhorting, comforting, and doing with all his 
 might all that his hands found to do. Whatever 
 disadvantages I may have struggled under during 
 our residence in the blessed privilege of hav- 
 ing Dr. Dickson as a guide through the desert was 
 given me. He led me to the 'green pastures' and'still 
 waters' of salvation where my sin-sick soul found 
 rest. Blessed be his name and memory forever !" 
 
 Sept. 28. 1881. 
 
 Few men can look back upon so extended an ac- 
 tivity and influence as he exercised. You can revive, 
 
Words of Sympathy. j6j 
 
 more distinctly than the passing visitor, how your 
 house was an exchange centre for our whole country, 
 and how men came to your father from North, 
 South, East, and West, his church all the while giv- 
 ing him plenty to do. And then the case was re- 
 versed when he became Secretary, and went out 
 through the whole country with his messages. 
 
 Sept. 28. 1 88 1. 
 ''The will of the Lord has been done, Miss Maggie, 
 but, while we mourn, your father is happy among 
 the redeemed ones. He had more influence over 
 me than, as I think, any other person whom I have 
 met. He it was who led me to praying in public. 
 He was undoubtedly the instrumental cause of my 
 entering into the ministry, and one of his remarks 
 to this end was very characteristic. When I hesitat- 
 ed, embarrassed with many doubts he said 'Get your 
 Bullions' Greek grammar and resume its study ; if 
 nothing special comes of it, it will be a help heaven- 
 ward.' It was he who mentioned my name to the 
 people of the church of which I have been pastor 
 for six years, and with a fitness which seems to me 
 appropriate, his last sermon, (I think I am right) 
 was preached in my church. Sabbath morning Jan- 
 uary 25, 1880 — he had come over expecting to be a 
 quiet worshipper with us, but I prevailed on him to 
 preach, which he did, not entering the pulpit but 
 standing on the floor in front, where he delivered an 
 excellent address to parents concerning their duties 
 to their children." 
 
j64 Memorial. 
 
 Sept. 28, 1881. 
 "I was greatly grieved to see in the 'Presbyterian' 
 yesterday the notice of your father's departure — 
 grieved for my own sake and for the sake of those who 
 survive him. But for his sake we ought to rejoice, 
 inasmuch as it is far better to depart and be with 
 Christ than to remain here. I loved your father as 
 I love but one other man on earth. Consequently 
 I can not but feel grieved at his removal. But sep- 
 arations of this kind are not for long. Soon we 
 shall be re-united in the Father's house above." 
 
 Sept. 28, 1 88 1. 
 
 I deeply feel for you and yours and am also con- 
 scious of viy sense of loss, but for him who has gone 
 'wherefore should we fast .-^ ' He has ended his 
 mission. He has done his work earnestly, honestly, 
 and well. His whole soul so throbbed in his ap- 
 pointed duty, that he frayed away the moorings 
 that held him to earth. He labored so incessantly 
 and actively that God gave him an earlier rest. To- 
 day,with his mind freed from fleshly embarrassments, 
 he can trace on the upper side of God's mission map 
 what he was permitted to do for His glory, and pos- 
 sibly be allowed to see how his personal work bears 
 on the ultimate redemption of a world. For the 
 busy Christian man, there at last is rest. For the 
 faithful preacher, there is the joy of meeting souls 
 saved by his earnest pulpit and pastoral work. And 
 for the Commander in the battle-line of Church 
 work, there is the crown fresh from the hand of the 
 
Words of Sympathy. j6§ 
 
 'Captain of his Salvation.' Sorrow sacredly draws 
 its mantle closer and especially loves to commune 
 with memory on the life and love as seen and felt in 
 the narrower walk of home life. I know but a little 
 of that life and yet much more than others. I have 
 often met you when things were as they used to be 
 and I felt that you had one of those rare, delightful 
 homes, where joy was self-entertained and where 
 peace and comfort were not dependent on outside 
 aid, but, like oriental fountains, welled up ever in the 
 inner court of your own private family life. As the 
 father and husband he will be missed the most. I 
 shall never forget Dr. Dickson. He was always the 
 same true, helpful, hopeful friend. " 
 
 Oct. I, 1881. 
 '•Who could have wished him to remain longer 
 out of his rich inheritance ! To all those who loved 
 him he has left rich and precious memories. I like 
 to think of a grand and beautiful life taking its 
 new lease where there are no fleshly ills to bind and 
 impede its progress." 
 
 Oct. 4, 1 88 1. 
 
 " I look backward now to a conversation I had 
 with your Father some two years ago, when he felt 
 the first indications of his illness — he opened to me 
 his thoughts and feelings in reference to what he 
 apprehended would be a sudden death. He talked 
 with great calmness about.it, as something he had 
 thought of, and that gave him no fear. He was not 
 only prepared himself for the great change but he 
 
S66 Memorial. 
 
 had also done God's work bravely and faithfully for 
 many years. His heart was in the Master's cause, 
 and no man ever devoted himself to the work with 
 a more untiring assiduity. 
 
 His own warm-hearted cordiality and his deep 
 sympathy with every suffering minister has endear- 
 ed him to the whole church. His eloquent appeals 
 in behalf of Missions will long be remembered." 
 
 Nov. 15, 1881. 
 
 ''No one beyond his family circle, I believe, en- 
 tertained more profound love and honor for Dr. 
 Dickson than did my family, and none had a more 
 intimate knowledge and a higher admiration of his 
 magnificent mind, blended with his sweet and win- 
 ning disposition. His memory to me is sacred with 
 so many luminous events that it can only cease with 
 life itself." 
 
 Nov. 19, 1881. 
 
 " I do not believe anybody in New York, outside 
 of your own family, loved your dear husband better 
 than I did. I loved him for his own sake, and for 
 his Master's sake. His first sermon in New York, 
 in behalf of the Home Mission cause, was preached, 
 1 think, in my church, and a wonderful sermon it 
 was, full of power and holy enthusiasm. He fairly 
 took captive the hearts of my people, and was fol- 
 lowed by a magnificent collection. From that time 
 we became warm friends, and the more I saw 
 of him, whether at meetings of the Board at Chi 
 Alpha, or elsewhere, the more I learned to love 
 
Words of Sympathy. j6y 
 
 and honor him, and it was a great comfort to me to 
 know that my affection was fully reciprocated. 
 
 What consolation and joy you must have in the 
 memory of what he was to you, and of what he did 
 for the kingdom of his Lord and Saviour ! He was 
 certainly one of the noblest of men, and one of 
 the most whole-souled servants of Christ it has ever 
 been my privilege to know." 
 
 Dec. 28, 1881. 
 
 *' You, my dear madam, have not to sorrow like 
 others 'who have no hope.' for you know, as we 
 know, that your husband sleeps in Jesus, and that 
 those who do thus sleep God will bring with Him. 
 Besides what joy must the noble and useful life of 
 your dear departed one give you. A splendid ca- 
 reer of usefulness, exceeding in its dimensions all 
 that the great apostle of the Gentiles traversed in 
 his wonderful journeys, and reaching in its influ- 
 ence to the most distant ages. Untold multitudes in 
 this land and in all lands will rise and bless his mem- 
 ory. And again, after such a life, he now wears the 
 conqueror's crown in the presence of God. 
 
 May I say in conclusion that I have read the 
 sketch of Dr. Eaton with great interest and can tes- 
 tify that the features of your husband's character 
 he portrayed, are not beyond the truth, as is too of- 
 ten the case. They fall short of it. As an orator, 
 as a patriot, as a friend, as a pastor, as a Christian 
 and a Christian minister, he has left us all a model. 
 The tenderness of his friendship was like that of 
 
J 68 Memorial. 
 
 Jonathan, described by David as surpassing the love 
 of women, and his serious though cheerful piety dif- 
 fused a charm over every place and company he 
 visited. But I dare not enlarge. I could write 
 pages about the college life of my earliest and best 
 college friend, but must forbear." 
 
 Jan. 10, 1882. 
 
 ''But not so can perish the work which he wrought 
 there and elsewhere — the words which he spoke still 
 remain, a living force in many hearts, imperishable 
 as the souls to whose eternal destinies they gave 
 direction — the work to which he consecrated his 
 best energies still goes on, to bless the generations 
 yet to come, for whom his far-reaching, living 
 thought furnished a gospel. 
 
 Dear Dr. Dickson still lives with us — in the ardor 
 of youthful feeling we gave him our affection, and 
 through changes of time and absence it survives, 
 rejoicing in all that he was, and in what he was to 
 us, — in the noble work which he accornplished, and 
 in the blessedness of his reward. 
 
 The text which, in my mind, more than any other, 
 is associated with Dr. Dickson is this, ' It is of the 
 Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because 
 His compassions fail not — they are new every morn- 
 ing. Great is Thy faithfulness ! " 
 
 Jan. 21, 1882. 
 *' When he was gone, when the same world no 
 longer held both him and us, I felt and do feel be- 
 reft with you. A father and friend has gone, no more 
 
Words of Sympathy. j6g 
 
 to return — the friend of my childhood, and my moth- 
 er's friend will no more meet and greet me. 
 
 I remember pleasantly in the midst of my sense 
 of loss his last visit here — his kindness in being 
 with us as his younger friends, and how it pleased 
 me to have him become better acquainted with my 
 husband, as he had so long known me. It is com- 
 forting to think of his life and work, how he hon- 
 ored his Lord in abundant labors, in earnest devo- 
 tion, in great helpfulness to the brethren. 
 
 His stirring words here on that last visit are well 
 remembered. And then we know, or rather it is 
 beyond our knowledge or conception, how well it is 
 with those to whom our Master says, "Well done, 
 good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of 
 thy Lord." 
 
V. PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 ^^ Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: 
 For now he lives in fame , though not i7i lifeT 
 
 Richard, hi. 
 
 **This is a grievous mourning to the Egyptians'' 
 
 Gen. l. II. 
 
V. PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 Independent Press, Fraiiklin, Penn. 
 
 The death of Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D., whose 
 funeral took place at Baltimore last week, has elicit- 
 ed a feeling of sincere regret throughout this com- 
 munity, especially amongst the older members of it. 
 Besides being a man of great power in the pulpit, 
 and' an efficient worker for the Christian cause al- 
 ways, Dr. Dickson was a person of singular force 
 and individuality. He impressed himself on all with 
 whom he came in contact. He had the faculty of 
 friendship in the highest degree. Endowed with 
 quick insight, genial in manner, keen and ready of 
 speech, and with that true politeness that can only 
 come from a manly heart, he was a man to make 
 friends on all hands, and ''to grapple them to his 
 heart with hooks of steel." The friendships that he 
 formed with our people in the early and adverse 
 days, have lasted without abatement or break on 
 either side. In all the days that have intervened 
 since his labors here, Dr. Dickson has shown an ac- 
 tive and faithful interest in the welfare of this peo- 
 ple ; especially the members of his old charge, and 
 their children as well, have never ceased to love 
 and honor him. The inspiration of his brave ex- 
 ample, cheerful counsel and sturdy heart was alive 
 
3^/4 Memorial. 
 
 and active here to the day of his death, and will out- 
 last this generation. 
 
 Dr. Dickson was a prodigious worker, with an as- 
 tonishing faculty for drudgery, and it was in the 
 midst of a multitude of labors that he was stricken, 
 and finally fell, a martyr to overwork in the cause 
 of God and man. He passes to the reward of those 
 who have fought the good fight, finished the course 
 and kept the faith. 
 
 Philadelphia Inquirer. 
 Rev. Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 The death of Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D., late 
 Secretary of the Presbyterian Board of Home Mis- 
 sions, is announced. Dr. Dickson, whose death oc- 
 curred in Baltimore on the 4th inst., was one of the 
 most learned and eloquent ministers of the Presby- 
 terian church, and he was as renowned for goodness 
 as for learning and eloquence. Dr. Dickson, through 
 the daily beauty of his life, practically illustrated 
 the loftiest ideal of the Christian character. He 
 was a gentleman of such simple, earnest faith, of 
 such gentle, refined manner, of such rigid virtue, of 
 such broad charity, and such nobility of mind and 
 tenderness of heart as to command the admiration, 
 respect and esteem of all those who happily were 
 brought within the limits of his influence. His re- 
 ligion shaped his life, and shaped it grandly and 
 beautifully. It made it a life of singular usefulness, 
 purity and helpfulness. It was full of zeal for 
 Christ, and the work He commanded should be 
 
Press Notices. jy§ 
 
 done in His name. It was full, too, of the sweetest 
 humanity and the tenderest mercy. He never had 
 heart nor time for condemnation of the erring : he 
 was too eager to help them and too busy in doing 
 it. He went up and down the vineyard of the Lord, 
 cheering the strong, encouraging the faint-hearted, 
 assisting those who had fallen beside the unfinished 
 task, pouring oil into the wounds of the wounded, 
 giving water to them that thirsted, feeding the hun- 
 gry, nursing the sick, pouring hope into the hearts 
 of the despairing. To work such as that he gave all 
 that is allowed men to give — their lives ; he gave 
 his to it. As surely as the soldier dies on the battle- 
 field from the bullet, did Dr. Dickson die from ex- 
 cessive labor in doing God's work. He thought it 
 wise to labor without resting ; that is why those 
 who loved and honored him living can not too 
 greatly mourn for him dying. He had worked long 
 and well. Now he shall rest long and well." 
 
 Herald and Pj'esbyter, Cinciiuiati. 
 
 As Secretary of the Board of Home Missions Dr, 
 Dickson did the greatest work of his life. He and 
 Secretary Kendall were true yoke-fellows, differing 
 somewhat, but happily the one was a complement 
 of the other, so as to represent and do every part of 
 the work in the best manner. Dr. Dickson's strength 
 lay in his nervous power as a speaker. Few men in 
 our church were so able to stir up a congregation 
 or a Church Court. 
 
j/d Memorial. 
 
 Presbyterian, Sept. 17, 188 1. 
 
 In his pastorates Dr. Dickson was always success- 
 ful, and churches grew steadily under his ministra- 
 tions. But it was as a leader in the Home Mission 
 work that he became most conspicuous and most 
 honored. Here he was eloquent, because he grasp- 
 ed and presented, with wonderful vigor and breadth 
 of view, the full importance of this great work. He 
 loved the land and the nation, and the church as 
 well, and in this love found an inspiration urging 
 him to plead for the evangelization of the nation at 
 the bar of the church. Few who heard him in his 
 grand orations before the General Assemblies will 
 forget the wondrous sweep of his argument and 
 the power of his appeals. Since the days of Dr. 
 John Breckinridge there has been no one who has 
 pleaded for missions, or so swayed listening Assem- 
 blies, inspiring them to new zeal for the land in 
 which they dwell, as the man who has just been laid 
 to rest. We are sorry that we shall hear that elo- 
 quent voice no more. But the work given him by the 
 Master was well done, and the servant rests from 
 toil and rejoices in his large reward. 
 
 A Great Humanitarian. 
 
 New York T^ihiney September 18. 
 
 *' The religious world was startled by the an- 
 nouncement of the death, in Baltimore, on Sunday 
 last, of Dr. Cyrus Dickson, one of the foremost 
 Christian teachers of our day, and for many years 
 
Press N'otices, jyy 
 
 in charge of the Home Missions of the Presbyte- 
 rian denomination. The closed record of this man 
 deserves notice in a secular journal as that of no 
 mere theologian or scholar could do, for his work 
 and life passed beyond the limits of any one sect 
 and became a force in the actual progress of the 
 country and a factor in its civilization. He was a 
 man of marked individuality and most indomitable, 
 fervid zeal. His sympathies were intensely keen, 
 his Christian faith lofty, and his heart a big, glow- 
 ing fire which would have warmed the whole miser- 
 able outside world if it could. Added to this were 
 a fine sense of humor and a strong personal magnet- 
 ism. No person who once met the man ever forgot 
 him. 
 
 The whole force of his nature he threw into the 
 work which he took up some eleven years ago, 
 which was the Christianizing and civilizing of the 
 poorer districts of the States and newly settled Ter- 
 ritories, especially the vast Pacific slope, where the 
 fermenting elements of paganism, savagery, intem- 
 perance, modern skepticism and the leaven of sturdy 
 American faith are all at work together. Into this 
 cause he flung himself, soul, mind and body, with 
 an energy that carried new life into every part of 
 it ; he made long pilgrimages to every outlying sta- 
 tion : his nanie became a household word in the 
 home of each poor missionary in our farthest bor- 
 ders. He carried them all — their wants and strug- 
 gles — in his heart, night and day, as though each 
 man had been his brother. Beside this, the over- 
 
37^ Memorial. 
 
 sight of the details of a gigantic organization de- 
 volved upon him. Nothing would induce him to 
 shirk any portion of the weight resting on him. The 
 cause succeeded, but the riian staggered and fell. 
 He died as absolutely a sacrifice to his cause as any 
 Christian martyr who ever perished at the stake. 
 
 Such self devotion to our brother man is too rare 
 in this country and time for us to allow it to pass 
 unnoticed. Practical men may talk of the pity of 
 the sacrifice and the wasted life. But was it wast- 
 ed } He goes on with his work even now. The 
 sight of this soldier, dead upon the field of honor, 
 is a clarion call to every honest soul, whether it be 
 that of a Christian or a man of the world. 
 
 New York Observer. 
 Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D. 
 
 " The late beloved Secretary of the Presbyterian 
 Board of Home Missions, Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. 
 D., died at Baltimore on Sunday last. We know of 
 no minister of the Presbyterian church who won 
 the hearts of his brethren and of the people more 
 fully, or who labored more efficiently in advancing 
 the cause of the Redeemer throughout this land. 
 He literally wore himself out in the service. He 
 could say with truth, in the words of the Master : 
 **The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up." 
 
 In 1870 he was elected Secretary of the Presby- 
 terian Board of Home Missions. In this office he 
 may be said to have performed the great work of 
 his life. Warmly attached to the Presbyterian 
 
Press Notices. jyg 
 
 church, devoted with all his heart to the upbuild- 
 ing of the cause of Christ, he made extensive jour- 
 neys over the whole country to study its condition 
 and needs. He came back from these journeys fired 
 with a truly missionary spirit, and in the pulpits and 
 on the floor of the ecclesiastical assemblies pleaded 
 the cause of Home Missions with an eloquence that 
 is rarely heard. His addresses before the General 
 Assembly in successive years were often spoken of 
 as the chief features of the meetings. He was a 
 delegate to the first Pan-Presbyterian Council in 
 Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1877, where his earnest ap- 
 peals made the same deep impression, and will long 
 be remembered as among the most interesting of 
 the exercises. In 1870, on the re-union of the Pres- 
 byterian church, he was appointed Permanent Clerk 
 of the General Assembly, in which office he con- 
 tinued to the time of his death. 
 
 About two years since his health failed, owing to 
 his ardent devotion to his work, which had induced 
 a serious affection of the brain. It was hoped that 
 rest would restore him, and a successor was not ap- 
 pointed until about three months since, when all 
 hope of his recovery was given up. The loss of 
 such men as Dr. Dickson from the church is deeply 
 lamented. He was widely known, and was every- 
 where beloved." 
 
 Banner, Pittsburgh. 
 Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fact that it was generally 
 known that the health of Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. 
 
j8o Me^norial. 
 
 D., had been declining for years, the announcement 
 of his death on Sabbath, September ii, was a shock 
 not only to his personal friends, who were many, but 
 also to the entire church, which he had served so 
 long and so well. He had spent the summer with 
 relatives in Illinois, and only a short time ago he 
 had returned to Baltimore. But the improvement 
 in health so greatly desired had not taken place. 
 From month to month he had become weaker, while 
 his complicated maladies were continually gaining 
 strength, and his family and others around him, 
 much as they wished him to live, were convinced 
 that the end was not far off. 
 
 Dr. Dickson was the son of a worthy farmer of 
 Scotch-Irish descent, and was born in Erie County, 
 Pennsylvania, December 20, 18 16. At the age of 
 seventeen he entered Jefferson College at Canons- 
 burg, Pennsylvania, and was graduated in 1837. 
 During his student life there. Rev. Matthew Brown, 
 D.D., LL.D., was President, and Rev. William 
 Smith, D.D., was Professor of Ancient Languages. 
 Among his classmates who are dead were Rev. Wil- 
 liam Eaton, Rev. Thomas W. Kerr, Rev. Walter M. 
 Lowrie, missionary to China — murdered in 1847; 
 Rev. Joseph E. Nourse, Professor in the United 
 States Naval Academy ; and Rev. Griffith Owen. 
 Among those yet living were William G. Barnett, 
 M. D., Hon. James Campbell, Rev. George Hill, D. 
 D., Hon. Harrison P. Laird, Rev. Philo M. Semple, 
 W. M. Stewart, Esq., Rev. Joseph T. Smith, D.D., 
 and David Wilson, Esq. 
 
Press N'otices. j8i 
 
 Dr. Dickson was a man of strongly marked char- 
 acteristics. When in health it was a pleasure to 
 look on his face, to feel the warm grasp of his hand, 
 and to listen to his cheery voice. He was a most 
 genial and entertaining companion, abounding in 
 anecdotes and quick at repartee, and always ready 
 to do a kindness. His door w^as always open to visi- 
 tors and he was welcomed at every fireside to which 
 he went. His piety was warm, active, sympathetic 
 and encouraging. In the family and beside the sick 
 bed his counsels were judicious and hopeful. He 
 attracted the young people to himself and was skill- 
 ful in leading them to the Saviour of sinners. In 
 the pulpit he was earnest. Scriptural and instruc- 
 tive. Under his pulpit ministrations and pastoral 
 care the churches which he served increased great- 
 ly, and in them his memory will be long and tender- 
 ly cherished. 
 
 But it was on the platform, when presenting the 
 claims of Home Missions, that Dr. Dickson's great 
 qualities of heart and head were most conspicuous. 
 He had visited the remotest parts of the home mis- 
 sion field, had seen the wants of the people, and had 
 witnessed the struggles of the ministers there. The 
 history of the church in this country, especially in 
 Western Pennsylvania, was familiar to him. His 
 supply of facts and anecdotes was almost unfailing. 
 From the beginning he would have the attention of 
 all who were present, and in a few moments he 
 would gain complete control of their affections and 
 will. On some of these occasions he made impres- 
 
j82 Memorial, 
 
 sions seldom equalled and that will never be forgot- 
 ten. 
 
 Interior^ Chicago. 
 
 Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D. 
 
 The death of this eminent servant of God has 
 brought pain to the hearts of an unusually wide cir- 
 cle of friends and admirers in all parts of our coun- 
 try. For a period of ten years or more, before he 
 was disabled and partially laid aside by the malady 
 which has now terminated his useful life, he was 
 widely known as one of the most indefatigable 
 workers as well as one of the most prominent repre- 
 sentative men of the Presbyterian church. His 
 great work as the Secretary of the Board of Missions 
 brought him constantly before the public, and sent 
 him on long journeys across the country in many 
 directions, especially on the great home field of the 
 west. Within the last two years he had been com- 
 pelled by a serious affection of the brain and partial 
 paralysis to relinquish this much loved work, and 
 finally, last spring, to resign his office and retire from 
 it altogether. He possessed popular pulpit talents 
 of a high order, and was a good type of the self-made 
 man. He early acquired habits of self reliance, of 
 energetic work, of address and influence over men, 
 which enabled him to win success on each field of 
 his ministry, and to do well everything he ever at- 
 tempted. Through all his public official life, of 
 forty-two years, his pathway was on a sure and con- 
 stantly ascending scale. 
 
Press Notices. j8j 
 
 Accordingly when the great era of co-operation 
 had come, and the Presbyterian church happily re- 
 united looked out for men competent to inaugurate 
 a new departure in the whole important department 
 of domestic missions, with its wider field and its 
 augmented responsibilities, Dr. Dickson and Dr. 
 Kendall were chosen as the men best qualified for 
 the task. There had long been an urgent demand 
 in the church, making itself heard in every General 
 Assembly, that there must be more energy, more ag- 
 gression, more expansion, more direct personal con- 
 tact of the church with its missionaries in this im- 
 portant field. The great west, and indeed the whole 
 church, called for men of life and power, men of 
 zeal and enthusiasm commensurate with the great- 
 ness of the country and the greatness of the work. 
 Nor was the call in vain as it regards either of the 
 new colleague secretaries. As for Dr. Dickson, 
 every one who has ever been at a General Assembly, 
 through all these years, and heard his eloquent voice 
 like a trumpet call to battle, pleading for the mis- 
 sionary and for the great west, can bear witness to 
 the energy and the ardor with which he threw his 
 whole soul into this last great work of his life. 
 
 His work possessed him and all his faculties until 
 it was accomplished. When he stood up before 
 vast audiences at the annual meetings of the As- 
 sembly, as he did at Chicago in May, 1877, and as 
 he did at the Pan-Presbyterian Council in Edinburg 
 in July of the same year, with his immense map of 
 the United States spread out behind him over the 
 
3^4 Me7noriaL 
 
 stage, and told of the vastness of this work, and of 
 the high command of God to evangelize and Chris- 
 tianize the continent, he talked like one inspired 
 with the zeal of the old apostles, and baptized with 
 a fresh baptism of the Spirit. And on these occasions 
 it was difficult to decide which was uppermost in 
 the heart of the speaker — his intense loyalty to the 
 American Union, or his loving admiration of the 
 Presbyterian church. It was easy, however, to see 
 that above them both he placed his allegiance to the 
 cross and crown of Immanuel. He was an Ameri- 
 can, he was a Presbyterian, and he was a Christian, 
 known and read of all men who ever heard him 
 preach or plead for missions. 
 
 Dr. Dickson's addresses at the meetings of the 
 Assembly, to many persons, constituted the most 
 attractive feature of the occasion, drawing great 
 crowds to hear him. One element of his success in 
 these telling speeches was his inexhaustible fund of 
 anecdote, and genial flow of humor. This indeed 
 was one of the things which always made him so 
 popular as a preacher, so loved as a pastor, and so 
 much admired as a man, especially by the young. 
 These popular talents, coupled with his deep piety, 
 his earnest spirit, and his rich stores of instruction 
 as an expounder of God's word, gave him a powerful 
 influence over the hearts of men. 
 
 Says a contemporary : '* We know of no minister 
 of the Presbyterian church who won the hearts of 
 his brethren and of the people more fully, or who 
 labored more efficiently in advancing the cause of 
 
Press Notices. j8^ 
 
 the Redeemer. He literally wore himself out in 
 the service. He could say with truth, in the words 
 of the Master, ''The zeal of thine house hath eaten 
 me up." " Since the death of John Breckinridge," 
 says another, " there has been no one who has so 
 pleaded for missions, or so swayed listening assem- 
 blies, inspiring them with new zeal for the land in 
 which they dwell, as the man who has just been 
 laid to rest." 
 
 In 1870 Dr. Dickson was made j>ermanent clerk 
 of the General Assembly, which office he held till 
 his death. He has done a great service for the 
 church, he has won an enviable reputation for zeal 
 and eloquence as a minister of Christ. He has, 
 along with his colleague. Dr. Kendall, given to the 
 Board of Missions a position and an influence which 
 it had never attained before. 
 
 New York Evangelist. 
 
 EDITORIAL NOTES. 
 
 One of the noblest men in the Presbyterian 
 Church is gone. Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D., so 
 long Secretary of our Board of Home Missions, 
 breathed his last in Baltimore on Sunday morning. 
 He had been in ill health for some months, so that 
 his death was not unexpected. A letter received 
 at the Mission Rooms says "He had failed rapidly 
 for several days, and since Friday was unconscious. 
 The funeral services will be held at the Westmin- 
 ster church in this city (Baltimore) on Wednesday, 
 at ten o'clock." So passes away one who was very 
 
j86 MemoriaL 
 
 widely known, and whom to know was to honor and 
 to love. There was a Christian manliness about 
 him which impressed even those who were strang- 
 ers. In the pulpit and on the platform few men 
 had greater power. His brethren will remember 
 his thrilling appeals for Home Missions in the Gen- 
 eral Assembly. But the eloquent voice is hushed, 
 the manly form is laid low. May these, oft-recur- 
 ring deaths quicken us to duty, to work while the 
 day lasts, knowing that the night cometh when no 
 man can work ! 
 
 He was an important delegate to the first Pan- 
 Presbyterian Council in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 
 1877. At the time of his death he was Perma- 
 nent Clerk of the Assembly of the Presbyterian 
 church, and also trustee of Princeton College, 
 which last position he had held for twenty years. 
 He was a faithful and devoted minister, largely 
 and favorably known. As a speaker on Home 
 Missions he had a reputation abroad as well as 
 at home. His efforts in Scotland, on this sub- 
 ject, were among his best. His influence during 
 the war, it is said, contributed to the harmony of 
 the Presbyterian churches in Baltimore. He leaves 
 a widow and three daughters. 
 
 Baltimore Presbyterian. 
 
 Although an able preacher, a deep thinker and 
 a careful expounder of Gospel truths. Dr. Dickson 
 was pre-eminently successful through the great 
 geniality and sunshine of his presence. He was 
 
Press Notices. jSy 
 
 eminently attractive, to the young especially, by 
 reason of this one characteristic, and herein lies 
 the secret of many of his successes in the mission 
 work. Where another might have repelled, Dr. 
 Dickson attracted his hearers, and it was seldom in- 
 deed that the word failure could be said of his ven- 
 tures in the mission field. That his worth was re- 
 cognized by the General Assembly is instanced by 
 the fact that, in May. 1880, Dr. Dickson's health 
 failing him, they granted him a year's leave of ab- 
 sence instead of accepting his resignation, which he 
 proffered them. During the time of his secretary- 
 ship. Dr. Dickson resided in New York, but in Oc- 
 tober 1880 he returned to Baltimore. May 1881 
 found his health no better, and the General Assem- 
 bly very reluctantly accepted his resignation. He 
 was afflicted with a complication of partial paralysis 
 and mental troubles, and finally, about six weeks 
 ago, he became confined to the house, and later to 
 his bed. He was attended during his illness by Dr. 
 H. P. C. Wilson, a member of his own former 
 church — Westminster — and a life-long friend. For 
 two days previous to his death. Dr. Dickson was un- 
 conscious of his surroundings, lying in a comatose 
 condition. Aside from the duties of Secretary to 
 the Board of Home Missions, the deceased was a 
 trustee of Princeton College, and for many years 
 permanent clerk to the General Assembly. He 
 was also a delegate from this country to the Pan- 
 Presbyterian Council of 1877, held in Edinburgh, 
 Scotland, and in which convention he took high 
 
o 
 
 ?SS Memorial. 
 
 rank. It is said of him that during the war, al- 
 though an ardent Union man, he was very conser- 
 vative in his language, and did much to keep the 
 churches of the city together and true to the North- 
 ern interests. 
 
 Baltimore Presbyterian. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Dickson, 
 by rev. robt. h. williams. 
 
 Sept. 22, 1 88 1. 
 
 Messrs. Editors : My acquaintance With this 
 able and distinguished minister began soon after I 
 entered the Presbytery of Baltimore, some time in 
 1862. He was then the popular pastor of the West- 
 minster church of Baltimore. This acquaintance be- 
 came more intimate as we were thrown together in 
 various relations by the appointment of Presbytery. 
 In May, 1864, he was appointed as one of the com- 
 mittee to conduct the services at my installation at 
 the church in Frederick, and his address was so 
 touching and impressive and appropriate, that I was 
 drawn nearer to him than I had been before that. 
 
 A year had passed when we were again brought 
 together in the most intimate relations. As mem- 
 bers of the Christian and Union Commissions, we 
 were appointed, with a few others, to go to Rich- 
 mond, Petersburg, and other points, to look after 
 the work of those Commissions. General Lee had 
 just evacuated Richmond, and every conveyance to 
 that city was crowded with passengers. The boat 
 on which we had taken passage from Baltimore, was 
 
Press N'otices. j8g 
 
 not an exception, for there was not a state-room nor 
 a berth to be had by any of our committee. Though 
 the trip was made with many discomforts and incon- 
 veniences, yet he was the most cheerful of our com- 
 pany, and though all the rest he had was gotten on 
 the floor of the cabin, yet he was not only satisfied, 
 but overflowing with humor and anecdotes, which 
 helped wonderfully to keep us in a contented frame 
 of mind. The second night we were accommodated 
 with lodgings in soldier beds in the building used as 
 the headquarters of General Winder in Richmond. 
 In all our trips he showed a willingness to endure 
 hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and was 
 as indefatigable in attending to the duties connect- 
 ed with the Commissioners. He was greatly affect- 
 ed by what he saw and heard of the privations and 
 trials of the people, and much of his own private 
 funds were given to those whom he esteemed most 
 deserving. In nearly two weeks of companionship 
 in business and travel, in which we saw him in 
 many trying circumstances, he was always gentle 
 and kind in disposition, and persevering and thor- 
 ough in the performance of duty. Again, in 1867, 
 we were thrown together as delegates from the 
 Presbytery of Baltimore to the Union Presbyterian 
 Convention, which was held in Philadelphia. His 
 interest and delight in this great convention were 
 unbounded, and his report to Presbytery on his re- 
 turn showed how much he had been moved by this 
 great demonstration. He was in sympathy with the 
 movement which made the two branches of Presby- 
 
J go Memorial. 
 
 terianism one great Church. This, with his devo- 
 tion to missions, made him a most efficient Secreta- 
 ry of the Board of Home Missions. No one could 
 listen to his remarks in the Presbytery of Baltimore 
 on our own destitutions, without feeling that his 
 heart was in this great work. He was most deeply 
 interested in everything connected with the church, 
 and was absorbed in its work. Seldom do we see a 
 man more fully given up to his work. It was the 
 theme of his sermons, the topic of his conversa- 
 tion, and the thing which gave beauty and power to 
 his addresses before great congregations. His last 
 speech was on this, his darling subject, and as he 
 told us that he was on his way to the grave, but that 
 his interest in this cause was still great, the tears 
 came to the eyes of his brethren, who remembered 
 him in other days when he pleaded so eloquently 
 and willingly for this great object. The faithful 
 servant of God is removed, but the cause which he 
 loved remains. *'God buries the workman, but car- 
 ries on the work." May we who survive have the 
 spirit of the faithful man who has gone to his re- 
 ward. 
 
 Arlington, Md., Sept. 12, 1881. 
 
VI. 
 TRIBUTES OF RESPECT. 
 
 " Sinks to the grave ivith itnperceived decay 
 While resignation gently slopes the way : 
 And all his prospects brighteniiig to the last 
 His heaven commences ere the world is past ^ 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 " Ye shall be remembered befoi^e the Lord, your 
 GodJ^ 
 
 Num. X : 9. 
 
TRIBUTES OF RESPECT. 
 
 The resolutions that follow were the results of 
 close and tender attachments that were felt for Dr. 
 Dickson in his official relations. Those of the 
 church of Franklin, where he was first settled, are 
 found on a preceding page, in connection with the 
 memorial services held in that church. Then follow 
 those of the Synod of Baltimore ; then those of the 
 Synods of Erie and Pittsburgh ; then a very brief 
 extract from a paper passed by the Chi Alpha So- 
 ciety in the city of New York. Then there follow 
 the papers of the Presbyteries of Baltimore and Erie, 
 and lastly those passed by the General Assembly 
 lately adjourned. These papers indicate some- 
 thing of the estimate of the value of Dr. Dickson's 
 services to the church, and of the respect felt for 
 his memory. 
 
 Synod of Baltimore. 
 
 Extract from Synodical Minutes — 
 
 Synod of Baltimore in Session at Cumberland, 
 Maryland October 1881. 
 
 On the announcement of the decease of the Rev. 
 Cyrus Dickson D. D. it was 
 
3^4 Memorial. 
 
 Ordered That the Committee on Memorials pre- 
 pare for publication, in the Minutes of Synod, a no- 
 tice of our departed brother. 
 
 The Rev. Cyrus Dickson D. D., the son of Wil- 
 liam and Christiana Moorhead Dickson, was born 
 in North East township, Erie County, Pennsylvania, 
 December 20, 18 16. His Father was a Ruling El- 
 der in the Presbyterian Church of North East, in 
 which he made his profession of faith in August 
 1831. He entered Erie Academy April 1832, and 
 Jefferson College in November 1832, where he was 
 graduated September 27, 1837. He studied The- 
 ology privately, and attended lectures at Princeton 
 Seminary while teaching at Lawrenceville, New Jer- 
 sey. On Wednesday, October 15, 1836, he was 
 licensed to preach the Gospel, by the Presbytery of 
 Erie, at Neshannock, Mercer County, Pennsylvania 
 in the house of William Mc Millan, a descendant of 
 the Rev. John Mc Millan, the pioneer. He began 
 to labor in the churches of Franklin and Sugar- 
 Creek, Venango County, December 18, 1839, and 
 was ordained by the laying on of hands' of the 
 Presbytery, and installed over these two churches, 
 June 24, 1840. The church of Sugar Creek having 
 grown able to support a minister all the time, he re- 
 signed its pastoral charge in 1846. In March 1848 
 he resigned that of Franklin, and was dismissed to 
 the Presbytery of Washington (then in the Synod 
 of Wheeling,) and was installed first pastor of the 
 Second Presbyterian church of Wheeling, Virginia 
 
Tributes of Respect. jpj 
 
 in June 1848. He was dismissed October 1856 to 
 the Presbytery of Baltimore, and was installed over 
 Westminster Presbyterian Church Baltimore, No- 
 vembei' 27, 1856. PVom this charge he was released 
 July I, 1879, to assume the office of Secretary of 
 the Board of Home Missions to which he had been 
 elected June 3, 1870, by the General As^^embly then 
 sitting in Philadelphia — ''the Re-Union ''Assembly." 
 He retained his membership in the Presbytery of 
 Baltimore to the end of his life. 
 
 For many years he was a Director of the Wes- 
 tern Theological Seminary at Allegheny, Pennsylva- 
 nia ; and from i860 till his death a Trustee of the 
 College of New Jersey. 
 
 He was a Commissioner to the General Assembly 
 in 1844 from the Presbytery of Erie ; to the Assem- 
 bly of 1853 from the Presbytery of Washington ; to 
 the Assemblies of i860, 1861, 1862, the November 
 meeting of 1869, 1870 and 1880 from the Presbytery 
 of Baltimore ; and a visitor at many others. 
 
 In 1849 he was elected Stated Clerk of the Pres- 
 bytery of Washington, and held the ofhce until his 
 removal to Baltimore. In 1870 he became Perma- 
 nent Clerk of the General Assembly and remained 
 so until his death. 
 
 In 1877 he was a member of the Pan Presbyterian 
 Council at Edinburg, representing particularly the 
 Home Mission work of the Presbyterian Church of 
 the United States. 
 
 He resigned the Secretaryship of the board of 
 Home Missions in June 1881, and died September 
 
39^ Memorial. 
 
 II, 1 88 1, Sabbath morning, and on Wednesday, 
 September 14, devout men carried him to his burial. 
 
 Synod of Erie in Session at Erie, Penn., 
 October 21, 1881. 
 
 Resolutions on the death of Dr. Dickson, offered 
 by Committee on Home Missions in connection 
 with their report : 
 
 And now one word over the grave of our depart- 
 ed brother. Dr. Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 This Synod would embrace this opportunity of 
 expressing their high appreciation of the Christian 
 character of our lamented brother. Dr. Dickson, and 
 of his untiring zeal and industry in behalf of Home 
 Missions. 
 
 Farther, that we deeply sympathize with his fam- 
 ily in their great bereavement, and would most af- 
 fectionately commend them to the love and care of 
 their God and ours. 
 
 Synod of Pittsburg. 
 
 '' At the late meeting of the Synod of Pitts- 
 burg held in Uniontown Pa. a special committee 
 was appointed to bring in a minute upon the death 
 of Rev. Cyrus Dickson D.D. The Committee, con- 
 sisting of Rev. John M. Smith and Rev. J. B. Dick- 
 ey, presented the following paper which was adopted: 
 
 As God in his unscrutable but all wise Providence 
 has seen fit to remove by death one of the Secretaries 
 of the Board of Home Missions, Rev. Cyrus Dick- 
 son D.D. ; we deeply sympathize with the bereaved 
 
Tributes of Respect. 397 
 
 family and friends, and while we bow to the will of 
 Him who orders all things for the best, we desire to 
 express our profound sense of the loss we, in common 
 with the whole church, have sustained in the de- 
 mise of one who has been the instrument, under 
 God, of accomplishing so much for His cause. We 
 mourn that we shall see his face and hear his voice 
 no more ; but we rejoice in the opportunity of putting 
 on record an appreciation of his thorough conse- 
 cration to the work, his eloquence and ability in 
 presenting the cause of Home Missions and the 
 eminent success which has followed his untiring 
 and self-denying efforts. And we hope, and ear- 
 nestly pray, that his mantle may fall upon his suc- 
 cessor in ofhce, and the example of his zeal and 
 devotedness to the cause may be remembered and 
 imitated by others in all coming time. 
 
 A copy of the above was ordered to be sent to 
 the family of Dr. Dickson. 
 
 Henry Woods, 
 Stated Clerk r 
 
 Action of the Presbytery of Erie. 
 
 Whereas, God in His all-wise Providence has 
 called from, earth Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D. D., Cor- 
 responding Secretary of the Board of Home Mis- 
 sions, a valued servant of the church ; the efficient 
 Secretary and eloquent advocate of the work of Home 
 Missions ; the successful pastor of two of our 
 churches ; born and reared on our territory ; li- 
 censed and ordained by this Presbytery ; and en- 
 
jg8 Memorial. 
 
 cleared to many of us by the tenderest ties ; there- 
 fore, Resolved : — 
 
 1. That we bow reverently to the will of the All- 
 wise God in this dispensation, and place on record 
 our testimony to the virtues and valuable services 
 to the church of our revered brother. 
 
 2. That we tender to the family of Dr. Dickson, 
 our sincere sympathies and best wishes for their 
 temporal and spiritual welfare. 
 
 Attest— S. J. M. Eaton, 
 
 Stated Clerk. 
 
 Done at Edinboro, Pa., 
 September 13, 1882. 
 
 Conclusion of Paper read before Chi Alpha, 
 New York : 1881. 
 
 "He was chosen a member of our Chi Alpha 
 April 20, 1 87- and contributed greatly by his warm- 
 hearted piety, his great affability, his sprightliness 
 of remark, and his boundless geniality, to the en- 
 joyment and profit of our weekly gatherings. Now 
 that he has been transferred to the fellowship of the 
 Christian Brotherhood on high, how much better 
 and more honorable it is for him ! May we too, in 
 the Master's good time share with him in the richer 
 glories of the upper world, and the sweeter fellow- 
 ship of the General Assembly and Church of the 
 first born which are written in heaven !" 
 
 E. F. Hatfield. 
 
Tributes of Respect. jgg 
 
 Board of Home Missions. 
 
 Resolutions on the Death of 
 
 Rev. Cyrus Dickson. 
 
 Whereas it has pleased Almighty God, in His wise 
 Providence, to remove by death the Rev. Cyrus 
 Dickson D, D., late Secretary of this Board — there- 
 fore Resolved 
 
 I — That we have lost a faithful co-laborer, a genial 
 friend and a wise counsellor ; and that while we are 
 unable to solve the mystery of this great affliction, 
 nevertheless we bow before the Divine Will, know- 
 ing that the Lord of all the earth will do right. — 
 
 Resolved — 
 
 2 — That we can not forbear to place on record our 
 high estimate of the services he rendered the Church 
 through this Board during all the time he was 
 connected with it. He showed a hearty sympathy 
 with the missionaries and their families, in all their 
 hardships and labors, and in the pulpits of his 
 brethren, in the Presbyteries, Synods and the Gen- 
 eral Assembly he plead the cause of Home Mis- 
 sions with a fervency and a power, seldom, if ever 
 equalled, and, until his health failed, he gave all his 
 energies to this great work. 
 
 Resolved — 
 
 3. That we are reminded by this dispensation of 
 Providence that the time is short and that we are 
 called upon to renew our diligence in the Master's 
 service. 
 
 Resolved — 
 
400 Memorial. 
 
 4. That this minute be entered on our records, 
 and that a copy of the same be sent to the afflicted 
 family, on whom we invoke the Divine blessing, and 
 pray that the God of all grace and consolation may 
 comfort and sustain them in their great bereave- 
 ment. 
 
 H. Kendall, 
 Wm. C. Roberts. 
 
 Tribute to Dr. Dickson. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Roberts' Address on Home Missions 
 
 Before the General Assembly, 1882. 
 
 "Mr. Moderator, Fathers and Brethren: I 
 feel not only embarassed, sir, but painfully solemn. 
 I cannot divest myself of the thought that I stand 
 here in the room of a Prince in Israel — a man be- 
 loved by all who knew him, for his tenderness of 
 heart and genial spirit ; for his uprightness of con- 
 duct and great consecration to the Master's work — 
 a man admired everywhere for his zeal in the inter- 
 est of Home Missions and his ability to move and 
 melt assemblies — a man praised the land over for 
 his power to play upon every chord of the human 
 heart, and to open the purse-strings of the most pe- 
 nurious. * * * I imagine that I see him as he 
 lifted his trembling hands to his head, at Madison, 
 two years ago, and exclaimed, " There is something 
 wrong." Yes, Mr. Moderator, all was wrong. The 
 strong frame, that had been equal to almost any 
 emergency, had given way under the weight of care 
 and incessant toil. The active, busy brain was 
 
Trihites of Respect. 401 
 
 paralyzed by close application to the preparation of 
 stirring addresses for our ecclesiastical bodies, and 
 by devising liberal things for the evangelization of 
 our land. The tender heart was broken under the 
 pitiable appeals made to him by mothers in behalf 
 of their children, by college mates in behalf of their 
 friends, and by Christian people in behalf of the 
 neighborhoods in which they lived. He carried 
 these appeals to his home and talked of them with 
 his family ; he dreamed over them or stayed awake 
 reflecting upon thei^. He carried them back to the 
 office the next morning and home again the next 
 night. Thus he bore the wants and woes of his 
 loved country upon his heart until that heart gave 
 way. He broke down mentally and physically, but 
 not before he had nobly finished his work. He has 
 gone to his rest and received the welcome plaudit, 
 ''Well done!" That manly form will be seen no 
 more on earth, that radiant face will not smile again 
 upon the Assembly, and that tongue of fire will no 
 more rouse the Church to action. 
 
 * * * He was like the imperial eagle, able to 
 rise toward the sun, penetrate the dark future, and 
 tell the Church what she might expect in years to 
 come. I am conscious of being but a pedestrian, 
 able only to lead her through desert paths and tell 
 her of the emergencies of every day as they arise. 
 But the work is God's, and hence I may take cour- 
 age, and believe that, under the humblest adminis- 
 trator, it is destined to advance." 
 
402 Memorial. 
 
 Papers from the General Assembly of 1882. 
 
 "The Stated Clerk announced to the Assembly 
 the death of the Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D.D., Perma- 
 nent Clerk of the General Assembly, whereupon the 
 following minute was adopted : 
 
 *' It having pleased the Head of the Church to 
 remove from this life Rev. Cyrus Dickson, D.D., 
 an eminent servant of God, who has served the 
 General Assembly ever since the reunion, as Per- 
 manent Clerk, this General Assembly now record 
 its grateful sense of the fidelity and diligence with 
 which he discharged all the duties assigned him by 
 this Church." 
 
 The Committee on Home Missions reported the 
 following : 
 
 " This year has been made memorable in the his- 
 tory of the Board and of the Church by the remov- 
 al by death of the honored and beloved Secretary, 
 Dr. Cyrus Dickson. Hearty in his friendship, con- 
 secrated to his work, untiring in his labors, and 
 grandly eloquent in speech, the Presbyterian Church 
 will long preserve his memory as a faithful man of 
 God, and feel the influence of his piety and enthu- 
 siasm." 
 
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