beyond our control than by an ambition for station, yet our altar-lights have burned incessantly as the vestal fires, and

"In all my wanderings round this world of care,

In all my griefs, and God has given my share,"

they now glow with as pure a flame as ever: Mrs. Dickinson has been an invalid from the time of rearing her children, yet she has by the force of her character and resolution risen above the depressions of a shattered nervous system and distressing bereavements, and spent many years with me in Albany and Washington; has at all times superintended her household, has travelled with me over much of this country, and was resting a few days with friends in Salem when I had the pleasure of meeting you; and now, dear Mrs. M., I have told you a little of my family history, and must confess that "little is long."

Yes, how our country endures this infernal assault upon her free institutions! What untold elements of incalculable greatness, grandeur, and endurance she possesses! What terrible power reposes in her arm, when she elects to hurl her thunderbolts! Let corrupt, decaying monarchy beware. The very effort of a pampered aristocracy to inaugurate, nurse, foster, and urge on this rebellion, and perpetuate slavery, will abolish involuntary servitude, and arouse the slumbering genius of republicanism to rear her standard over the dying tyrannies of the old world. "God moves in a mysterious way," &c. With regards to Mr. M., I am most sincerely

Your friend,

D. S. DICKINSON.

MR. DICKINSON TO MISS HENDRICKSON.

THE ORCHARD, June 16, 1862.

MY DEAR ANNIE-I found your kind note on my return from Lockport, where I had been prosecuting in a murder trial, and getting credit for a great speech on the occasion. Mrs. D. went with me, and we had, on the whole, a very pleasant journey.

The Orchard looks lovely. Lilla and May are with us, and VOL. II.-37

we are making all we can of summer and home. The war, especially with the Army of the Potomac, is becoming too serious for even me to joke about.

Alas! how many must go down with violence and blood to their graves. May God in His mercy spare all those in whom we feel an especial interest; but then how many other hearts must be left to bleed, all crushed and broken, from war's desolation? If there is any hidden thunder red with uncommon wrath, it would seem that a just God would reserve it for the villains who produced this terrible conflict.

I thank you, my dear Annie, for your good and affectionate remembrance. I keep you high on my list of loved ones, and shall always cherish a memory of your friendship with fondYou have been with us so much, and seem so much like one of the family, that you are near and dear to us all, and will not soon be forgotten.

ness.

I expect to be in Albany next week, when I hope to see you. Our kindest regards to all the family. Thank Matt for his letter, which I would have answered but for a terrible burden of correspondence.

Mrs. Dickinson and the girls send love.

Sincerely and affectionately,

D. S. DICKINSON.

MR. DICKINSON TO COLONEL PAYNE.

BINGHAMTON, June 17, 1862.

MY DEAR COLONEL-I am favored with yours of a late date, and shall give it my early attention.

I have just returned from Lockport, where I attended, on behalf of the State, as public prosecutor, in the somewhat celebrated murder trial of the people against Lloyd; and at its close, accompanied by Mr. Dickinson, came down to Rochester, and staid over at the Osburn House. I sent for you, but learned from the messenger that you were out of town.

For many years I have religiously contemplated and promised Mrs. Dickinson and myself a "sentimental journey" to

Wheatland Corners, in your county, and it has finally been taken. You, my dear sir, do not know, and never will, the deep and absorbing interest which clusters with the fervor of early recollections around that cherished little neighborhood; nor, perhaps, are you aware that amongst your good people are matrons who have sent stalwart sons to the wars, and are surrounded by blooming daughters; divines, who minister in holy things; opulent merchants and bankers, eminent lawyers, learned doctors, successful farmers, and thrifty mechanics, who were my pupils at a country school there, more than forty years ago. That school was my first adventure in life-the first time I had ever left my rural Chenango home-and the memories I have indulged concerning it have been among the most pleasing dreams of life.

We left in the early Genesee Valley train, breakfasted at Avon, and went by the Western road to Caledonia, where I called upon my esteemed friend, the Hon. Willard H. Smith, whom I had not met for forty years and upwards, but whose form is as erect and his step as elastic as when I parted with him then. Our friend McLean generously proffere 1 his carriage, and we proceeded in it to Wheatland by way of Mumfordsville, making a brief call upon Duncan McNaughton, a youthful associate and co-worker in the calling of teaching the young idea how to shoot."

At Wheatland we found the little school-house standing, but having marks of somewhat recent renovation, and a school there, taught by a Miss Zimmerman, of Scottsville. I introduced Mrs. Dickinson and myself, and, though evidently much embarrassed, Miss Z. invited me to say a few words to her school, which the circumstances suggested, and I attempted; but I was overwhelmed with emotion, and could scarcely articulate a sentence. Ah! what a train of stirring incidents it mustered and rallied back upon my heart, as I stood again upon the floor, where the scholars before me were the grandchildren of those I taught, and were then sleeping, as Tristam Burgess said, "in the wide abyss of possibility." I had grown from youth to age; had lived a life of incident and vicissitude; had reared children to the estate of men and women, and had committed their remains to their kindred dust. Not a face did I recognize as of that early acquaintance; and not

a single being in the whole district remembered me as the schoolmaster of other years, and I was alone!"

Yours sincerely,

D. S. DICKINSON.

MR. DICKINSON TO REV. MR. ROBINSON.

BINGHAMTON, July 7, 1862.

Reverend and DEAR SIR-Your kind letter of the 2d, inviting me to attend the semi-centennial anniversary of the.organizations of the Presbyterian Church at Guilford Centre, was duly received, and I return you a thousand thanks for the remembrance, and regret exceedingly that imperative engagements will not permit my attendance. The occasion must be, to those who remember the organization of that little church, as I do, one of most affecting interest.

I was present, and witnessed with a child's curiosity the ceremonies, which took place in an old-fashioned barn, owned by Jehial Parsons, who then kept a small tavern on the corner where the present structure erected for that purpose now stands. The barn alluded to stood a few rods west, on the road leading to Oxford, a short distance back from the road towards the creek. There were several clergymen present, but the Rev. Mr. Benedict, of Franklin, Delaware county, took the leading part in the exercises. He was a man of small stature, of fervid and impassioned eloquence, and it was said he had been a practising lawyer.

Speaking entirely from recollection, the church at its organization was composed of less than ten members, and conspicuous among these was Samuel Mills, Sr., who was chiefly instrumental in founding it. I believe the first members were Samuel Mills and wife, Daniel Johnson and wife, Jesse Whiting and wife, Mr. Benjamin Skinner, and Mrs. Julius Whiting. There may have been two or three more, and some of these named may have joined at a later day; but these, and also Daniel Savage and wife, were among its earliest members. My parents, and also those of Mrs. Dickinson, Dr. and Mrs. Knapp, united at a later day. The holy communion was administered at the close of the ceremonies of organization, and

the service used was glassware, borrowed from the hotel bar of Mr. Parsons.

For years there was no clergyman in charge; but that good old man, Deacon Samuel Mills-heaven bless his memory!-conducted reading meetings. He made the prayer and read the hymn; Julius Whiting acted as chorister, and my father, Daniel T. Dickinson, or Rufus Baldwin usually read the sermon. There was no organized church or society of any denomination in that part of the town previous to the commencement of these meetings, and many spent the Sabbath in their accustomed pursuits, while others devoted it to fishing, hunting, and other sports common to the new settlements. Clergymen from abroad preached there occasionally after the reading meetings commenced, and among them I recollect Mr. Hyde, of Oxford, Mr. Harrower, of Sydney, Mr. Dean, of Delhi, Mr. Garvin, of Butternuts, Mr. Thorp, of Coventry, Mr. Chapin, of Bainbridge, Mr. Chapman, of Hardwick, and Mr. Williston, from some of the eastern counties. The meetings were usually held in a little school-house, on the site of the present academy building; and there was I baptized, with my brothers and sisters, by the Rev. Daniel Harrow. But during the summer, when a preacher came from abroad, some barn in the neighborhood, was usually occupied. The first regular preaching there was by the Rev. Mr. Jewell, who was engaged for a few months, and he generally preached in the school-house. At a later day the Rev. Mr. Raymond was employed in like manner. When the church was organized the site of the present church edifice, with most of the territory in the neighborhood, was covered with a dense and dark hemlock forest, and I remember but two dwellings in sightone, the tavern-house of Mr. Parsons on the corner, and the other, a small house occupied by a Mr. Dickinson, standing near the site of the one built and formerly occupied by Rufus Baldwin. The church structure was erected more by contributions of labor than of money; and when a small boy, with my father, I have driven three yoke of oxen many days in drawing stone, timber, and other materials for the edifice; and many a dinner, prepared by the hands of a sainted mother, have I borne from the old farm, a mile and a half north, to where the church building stands, to nourish laborers who