disclosure of it, and joined in the remonstrance which effected its discontinuance; but his confidence in the honesty and the good intentions of the eminent Christians who were the leaders of the religious public in that great and noble institution, was never for a moment shaken. He was satisfied with the expedients which they adopted to correct the evil and prevent its recurrence; and he thenceforward adhered to them with a zeal which was not a little increased by the virulence of invective with which their opponents pursued them. After the resignation of the earl of Glasgow of the presidentship of the Glasgow auxiliary, in consequence of the dispute among the subscribers, Dr. Dick was chosen to fill the office, and continued in it until his death.

We come now to consider the closing scene in the life of this excellent man. On the 23d of January, 1833, a very large meeting was held in Glasgow for the purpose of petitioning the legislature to pass some enactments then proposed for the sanctification of the Sabbath. Having been intrusted with one of the resolutions, he spoke in support of it for some time, and with great animation. He had officiated as president at meeting of the Baptist Missionary Society, held a week or two before: a week or two later, it would have been his duty to preside at the anniversary of the Auxiliary in Glasgow to the British and Foreign Bible Society; and his friends were therefore congratulating him that in his old age he should be growing in public spirit. This, however, was his last public act, and was indeed a graceful and becoming close to his very useful career.

On the evening of the same day (Wednesday) on which he made the address to which we have referred, he met with the Session of Greyfriars to make arrangements for the communion which was to be observed on the ensuing Sabbath. On his return home, he complained of ear-ache; but as he was subject to this complaint, it now excited no alarm. He spent a restless night, and did not rise until the unusually late hour of ten o'clock on Thursday morning. On this day he had resolved to call on a poor member of his church with some money for her use, but finding this impossible, he sent it to her by one of his elders, and then devoted himself to committing to memory the discourse he had written for the next Sabbath

The sermon has been published since his death; the text is John iii. 35. "The Father loveth the Son, and hath committed all things into his hands." It is an interesting proof that he was well prepared for the duties which he was not permitted to discharge; and the topics and the spirit of his latest meditations were happily in unison with the event which awaited him. While thus employed he was seized with a shivering, about noon, and found it necessary to retire to bed, although no danger was apprehended. Medical aid being immediately procured, he was twice bled, and from each operation experienced relief, conversing cheerfully with those around him; but about five o'clock in the afternoon he sunk unexpectedly into a stupor, out of which he never awoke. The cause was at that time unknown, but from the examination subsequently made, it appeared that his ear had suppurated internally, and that the matter flowing in upon his brain, produced inflammation and effusion, which caused the fatal issue. All hope of his recovery was now gone, and the rapid approach of death became every moment more evident to his surprised and sorrowing family. His death took place on the afternoon of Friday, 25th of January, 1833, and without much apparent suffering. There were present at the closing scene, besides those members of his own family who then were in Glasgow, only a few friends, who, learning accidentally of his illness, had come to inquire for him, and obeying the impulse of affection and sorrow, had entered his chamber. When he had ceased to breathe, an old friend and member of his church stepped beside his now lifeless remains, and exclaimed, weeping, “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

From the circumstances attending his death, it was not possible that his friends should receive any of those testimonies to the reality and power of religion which so often illustrate, as with a supernatural radiance, the last moments of Christians. To his family and friends, who believed that he needed no warning, it is a consolation that death was not preceded by prolonged feebleness or sickness, and that he was spared the pain, which to him would have been inexpressibly severe, of being conscious of parting from those whom he loved, and that the closing struggle was quickly over.

To the deep sorrow of a very extensive circle, his death was

announced before even the fact of his illness had become generally known. In the public prints, and from the pulpits of ministers of all denominations, it was noticed as a loss to the community at large; and strong testimonies were borne to the worth and merits of the deceased.

His death took place in the sixty-ninth year of his age, the forty-seventh of his ministry, and the thirteenth of his professorship. The solemn event was improved to his congregation. by his colleague in the seminary, the Rev. Dr. Mitchell, in the forenoon, and by his venerable friend, the Rev. Dr. Peddie, of Edinburgh, in the afternoon, and by a large number of the ministers of his own communion in different parts of Scotland and England.

We conclude this brief sketch of the life and labours of Dr. Dick with an extract from the sermon of his excellent friend and colleague, Rev. Dr. Mitchell, which presents us with what is believed to be a just description of his character.

"He seemed to possess in a high degree what may be called harmony and strength of character. The elements of which it was composed were of a high order, intellectual and moral, as well as of rare excellence. Its features were all in unison, and all admirable. A dignified plainness, simplicity--a noble simplicity-seemed to constitute the most prominent trait. Never spirit was more unsophisticated: he scorned to appear, or rather he could not appear that which he was not; what he seemed, that he was; what he spoke, that he thought and felt. Intimately connected with this was his inflexible integrity. This quality lies at the foundation of all excellence, of whatever is estimable in character, or noble in spirit, or confidential in friendship, or honourable in the intercourse of life; and this quality he possessed in an eminent degree. Being human, it would be too much to suppose that he never erred in judgment or in feeling; yet this we may say, that he might be mistaken, but he could not be dishonest; he might be misinformed, or act under a wrong impression, but he could not be disingenuous and his integrity was not mere sincerity and honesty, such as an honourable man of the world may possess and exercise; no, his was associated inseparably with moral probity; it was the integrity of a hallowed mind, and of ‘truth in the inward parts;' of high principle; of straight-forward

rectitude; of unbending resolution; of fearless faithfulness; and, when necessary, of noble daring. In some others, this principle is cold and repulsive in its spirit and workings; but in him it was firm and stern, united with affectionate feeling, with social sympathy, with the domestic virtues, with the Christian charities and graces.

"Of his abilities and attainments I need not speak particularly; the proofs are before the world, and the public have appreciated them: 'his praise is in all the churches.' These talents, we may be allowed to say, were of the first eminence. Seldom has such a combination of faculties, in respect of variety and energy, been conferred on one human being. He was highly gifted by the God of nature and of grace. Few have possessed such power, and penetration, and perspicacity of mind; such capaciousness, correctness, and retentiveness of memory. Few have made such proficiency in extensive, and accurate, and varied learning; and few have acquired such treasures of knowledge, sacred and literary. His taste was chaste; his imagination was well regulated; and he wrote the English language with a purity and an elegance which have, we apprehend, been seldom equalled. Like a scribe who is instructed unto the kingdom of God, he brought forth out of his treasury things new and old.' His delivery, partaking of his constitutional simplicity, was natural, correct, and dignified. The judicious hearer, though, it may be, not highly excited, was yet informed, interested, elevated and the subjects on which he loved to dwell were solemn, interesting, and of the highest class. His was truly a gospel ministry; he delighted to 'preach the unsearchable riches of Christ,' and to unfold the plan of redemption in its sublime doctrines and practical bearings. Nor could any one be more faithful and diligent in discharging the private duties of the pastoral office; in visiting the sick, teaching from house to house, 'caring for the poor,' ruling well the spiritual affairs of the church, and, if need be, in 'rebuking, exhorting, reproving, with all long suffering and doctrine.' Much, truly, did he love 'to spend and be spent' for the Saviour and for souls; and sometimes, when infirmity would have afforded a satisfactory apology for the suspension of his labours. And with regard to his professorial functions, those who were so happy as to be placed

under his care, will all, we are assured, with one accord bear witness to the punctuality and assiduity of his labours, the abilities and excellency of his instructions, the impartiality of his administrations, the judiciousness of his criticisms and counsels, and the condescending kindness of his attentions. Long will his work praise him in the gates,' and long will his pupils speak of him with affectionate veneration. His was sterling worth: no one ever owed less to assumption or ostentation. No one knew him fully who did not also know him intimately; and the excellency of his character rose in proportion as it was inspected and understood. He was, through the gifts and graces given to him of God, an ornament to our church; and I do not know the church to which he would not have been an honour. In short, we may say of him what was testified of an esteemed friend and brother concerning another venerable man of God who had been his colleague for a considerable period, that 'his was a character than which none could gain more or suffer less by a just delineation.'"