If .5~ 1^ 
 
 V PRINCETON, N. J. *4f 
 
 BX 9225 .T5 S26 1868 
 Sample, Robert F. 1829-1905 
 Memoir of the Rev. John C. 
 Thorn 
 

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 REV. JOHN C. THOM. 
 
 BV THE 
 
 V 
 
 RKV. ROBKRT F. SAMPLE. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 KKV. W. S. PLUMRR, D. D. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 JAMES S. CLAXTON, 
 
 SUCCESSOR TO WM. S. .t ALFRED MARTIEN. 
 
 1214 Chestnut Street. 
 ISfiS. 
 
Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1867, 
 By Rev. ROBERT F. SAMPLE, 
 
 In the office of the Clerk of the District Court for the 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 PRINTED BV ALFRED MARTIEN. 
 
C O N T E N T S . 
 
 Page 
 Introduction * 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Birth— Childhood— Religious Experience— Enters the 
 
 Academy 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Enters Jefferson College— Revival— Afflictions— Gradu- 
 ation 30 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Returns to Eldersridge— The Teacher— The tender 
 
 Nurse — Efforts to do good 48 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Teaches in Natchez, Mississippi — The Pestilence — 
 Diligence, and Success— Pleasant Relations — Re- 
 turns North 58 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 Extracts from Journal 70 
 
 CHAPTER \1. 
 
 Enters Theological Seminary at Princeton— Attentive 
 to duty — Growth in Piety — Licensure — Called to 
 Waynesburg, Pennsylvania 100 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Enters upon his labors in Wayncsburg — Ordained and 
 installed — The Earnest Preacher, and Faithful Pas- 
 tor — Revival — Attention to the bereaved, the poor, 
 the stranger, the aged, and the young 117 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Benevolence nrged — Co-operation on the part of the 
 Church — Habits of Study — Style of preaching — 
 Jesus only 141 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Characteristics — Self forgetfulness — Patience— Hospital- 
 ity — Sympathy — Concern for souls — Cheerfulness — 
 Depression 166 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Husband and Father 179 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Miscellaneous Letters 189 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Afflictions — Visits army — Labors in other churches — 
 Invasion of Pennsylvania by the Confederates — 
 Enters the army as a private — Chosen Chaplain — 
 Faithful labor, and its results— Returns home 203 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Last days at Waynesburg — Called to St. Louis — Sad 
 
 partings 222 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Labors in the Pine Street Church of St. Louis- Re- 
 cftlled to Pennsylvania by domestic afQiction — Re- 
 turns to St. Louis — Sickness — Death 237 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The memoirs of even bad men may be useful 
 in warning us against their errors and their 
 doom. So mankind generally judge. So in- 
 spired writers have decided, by sketching the 
 history of not a few, who were a curse and not 
 a blessing. Much, more may the biography 
 of good men be profitable in instructing us in 
 a way that is good, and in inciting us to seek 
 for glory, honor, and immortality. 
 
 The subject of the following memoir was a 
 very good man. Perhaps no one, who knew 
 him, will hesitate to give a hearty assent to 
 this statement. Nor should his early death 
 hinder the publication of his memoir. Some 
 men die old in experience and usefulness at 
 thirty years of age; while others, who live 
 twice as long, seem to have lived in vain. 
 He has lived long, who has glorified God in 
 1* 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the earth, and finished the work God gave 
 him to do. Mr. Thom was a man remarkable 
 for his humility, cheerfulness, deep experience, 
 reliance on the promises, conscientiousness, 
 industry, and usefulness. He lived a great 
 deal in a short time. Nor does it detract 
 from his credit or the probable utility of his 
 record, that he spent most of his ministerial 
 life in comparative privacy. I have seen him 
 in the midst of his plain, worthy, and intelli- 
 gent people, moving noiselessly, always com- 
 manding respect, constantly watching for op- 
 portunities to speak a word in season, and 
 often making a deep impression by a single 
 sentence. I did not therefore wonder at 
 the happy influence which he everywhere 
 exerted. 
 
 It seems to be generally agreed that well 
 written memoirs of persons venerable for 
 years, piety, and services, are entitled to much 
 favor. Of late years, also, the public have 
 received with much kindness sketches of the 
 lives of young children. Surely, then, the 
 biography of those who are cut down in the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 midst of their clays and of their usefulness 
 cannot be destitute of interest or instruction. 
 
 Sometimes, when we read the lives of very 
 great men, we are filled with wonder at their 
 prodigious powers, and at the amazing results 
 of their plans and labors. There never was 
 but one Gustavus Adolphus, one Turenne, 
 one Washington, one Paul, one Bunyan, one 
 Whitefield. When we read to what they rose, 
 we say, It is high, we cannot attain to it. But 
 when we behold the struggles, conflicts, and 
 successes of such a man as dear Mr. Thom, 
 many an humble and good man, possessed of 
 good sense, a ready perception of plain truth, 
 and a fair opportunity of cultivating his mind, 
 heart, and manners, says, By God's grace I too 
 may be a blessing to the world ; I too may 
 rise to honor; I too may shine as the stars for 
 ever and ever. 
 
 I have not seen the biography contained in 
 this volume. I have merely seen the table of 
 contents. But even without perusal, I cannot 
 hesitate to commend it to the reader. The 
 author is one whom I have loner esteemed. 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 He is very capable of doing his work well. In 
 his labor he has been animated by a strong 
 and tender love to the memory of the departed. 
 And in the life of Mr. Thorn he could not have 
 failed to find much that was worthy of state- 
 ment or delineation. He has also had access 
 to the best sources of information. 
 
 If any inquire for the secret of Mr. Thorn's 
 usefulness, the answer should point immedi- 
 ately to the grace of God, which toward him 
 was very abundant. To the power of the 
 Holy Spirit both he and his best friends 
 ascribed all that was above and beyond un re- 
 generate human nature. 
 
 While this is unquestionable, we still look 
 at particular points in Mr. Thorn's character, 
 which were employed by the God of all grace 
 for making him a chosen vessel for conveying 
 spiritual good to many. He had an uncom- 
 mon measure of that uncommon quality — 
 common sense. This was the means of pre- 
 serving him from a thousand follies, which 
 destroy or impair usefulness. It kept him 
 from wild fancies and vagaries, in which 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 SO many bury their opportunities of doing 
 good. He was not carried away by mere 
 plausibilities. He attempted no impossible 
 things. He took men as he found them. 
 He did not heal slightly the hurt of God's peo- 
 ple. He cast not pearls before swine, nor gave 
 that which is holy unto the dogs. He dis- 
 cerned both time and judgment. He did not 
 put new wine into old-bottles. 
 
 Then, he was humble, and so free from the 
 arrogance of pride, justly offensive to men. It 
 was easy for him in honor to prefer others. He 
 loved to learn from any who could give him 
 either instruction or information. He abhor- 
 red vain pretensions. He readily condescended 
 to men of low estate. He was habitually 
 ready to receive the decisions of God's word 
 on all points of faith and practice. Even his 
 prudential maxims were chiefly drawn from 
 Scripture, especially the book of Proverbs. 
 
 Another thing prominent in Mr. Thom's 
 character was benevolence. He loved sin- 
 cerely and ardently. Very tenderly did he 
 pity both the sorrowing and the sinful. Who 
 
10 INTKUDUCTION. 
 
 ever heard him, in all his public Hie, say a 
 word that could be fairly construed into ma- 
 levolence? He prayed for his enemies. He 
 blessed, and cursed not. He abhorred all 
 double-dealing, all calumny, all evil surmising. 
 He forgave as he hoped to be forgiven. 
 
 And his zeal abounded. He was, upon deep 
 conviction, a staunch and uniform friend of 
 pure, solemn, powerful* revivals of religion. 
 He never doubted the wisdom of God in 
 granting harvests both to the husbandman 
 and to him who gathereth fruit unto life eter- 
 nal. In his early years he witnessed some of 
 the most remarkable displays of Divine grace 
 in the conversion of many souls. The memory 
 of these, confirmed by Scripture, was hallowed, 
 even as the scenes of Bethel doubtless always 
 lingered about the mind of Jacob. He had 
 seen God's power and glory. 
 
 But Mr. Thom early settled in his mind 
 that pure revivals of religion were not to be 
 expected except in connection with sound reli- 
 gious instruction. Therefore he was diligent 
 in teaching the people knowledge. He desired 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 that the word of God might dwell in them 
 richly in all wisdom and spiritual understand- 
 ing. To this end he was instant in season and 
 out of season. I think he excelled most men 
 in remembering that the night comcth when 
 no man can work, and that he which convert- 
 eth the sinner from the error of his way shall 
 save a soul from death, and shall hide a mul- 
 titude of sins. 
 
 The life and labors of such a man, when 
 known, must be useful to many. In his early 
 removal from the church below, many mourn. 
 But the death of every believer is in answer to 
 the intercession of our Lord Jesus Christ: 
 "Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast 
 given me, be with me where I am; that they 
 may behold my glory, which thou hast given 
 me." John xvii. 24. It often happens that 
 " God takes them soonest, whom he loves best." 
 The memory of Mr. Thorn is precious to 
 thousands. In his death I mourn the loss of 
 one of the best and most unflinching friends, 
 and one of the most modest, manly, and agree- 
 able companions of my life. For this Memoir 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I bespeak the most friendly regards of my 
 acquaintance; and for the amiable and deso- 
 late widow of the deceased, and for his father- 
 less and promising children, I bespeak all the 
 good will due to those whose father and hus- 
 band lived to show kindness and do good to 
 all men as he had opportunity. 
 
 Wm. S. Plumer. 
 
 TheoJvtjical Seitiinari/, Cohunhia, S. C. 
 September 25, 1867. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 REY. JOHN C. THOM 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BIRTH CHILDHOOD ENTERS THE ACADEMY. 
 
 John Culbertson Thom was born in Clarion 
 county, Pennsylvania, April 19tb, 1830. His 
 parents were of Scotch-Irish descent, and 
 members of the Presbyterian Church. His 
 grandfather came to this country when a 
 boy, and participated in the struggle for 
 American Independence. He lived for a 
 time in Westmoreland county, Pennsyl- 
 vania, where he married a sister of General 
 A. Craig, of Revolutionary memory. John 
 Thom, the father of John Culbertson, was 
 brought up according to the old Presbyterian 
 mode. When quite young he was a subject 
 of the falling exercise^ then prevailing in that 
 2 
 
14 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 region. He was a godly man, and possessed 
 more than ordinary force of character. In 
 1812 he married Margaret Culbertson, whose 
 father, a fine scholar, had educated her much 
 beyond the average of that day. She was 
 remarkably gentle, sensitive, retiring, and 
 pious. She loved her home, and it was the 
 sphere of her greatest usefulness. She drew 
 largely from the resources of her youth in the 
 education of her children, giving special atten- 
 tion to their religious culture ; mingling sacred 
 history, texts of Scripture, and pleasant poems 
 in her daily teachings. She was spared to her 
 family but a few years after the birth of her 
 youngest child, " the Benjamin" of the house- 
 hold ; but in that short period she had planted 
 precious seed ia the mind of her darling boy, 
 whose heart seemed, in early childhood, to be 
 turned toward heaven. She was an ardent 
 lover of nature, and her refined taste reap- 
 peared in her son. 
 
 Much might be said of the educational in- 
 fluence of scenery. The natural surroundings 
 of early life no doubt determine, to a consider- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 15 
 
 able extent, the habits of thought and feeling 
 through all the subsequent years. The life of 
 which we write was associated in childhood 
 with one of the sweetest spots in a region 
 noted for its picturesque beauty. Our thoughts 
 revert to an unpretending little house, nestling 
 among the hills. There was a lawn and 
 flower garden in front of it, a large orchard 
 behind it. In summer the hills were clothed 
 with all the varied tints of forest green, from 
 the light poplar and quivering aspen tree, to 
 the feathery pine and sombre hemlock, and 
 through the shady valley near by, a little 
 brook went softly murmuring on its way, 
 while the over-hanging branches were gay 
 with birds of tenderest note and fairest 
 plumage, and the air was ladened with the 
 fragrance of wild flowers. 
 
 The mother was wont to associate religion, 
 in the minds of her children, with the beauti- 
 ful surroundings of their home. When she 
 told them the names of plants and flowers, 
 marked their delicate tints and grateful 
 fragrance, she directed their thoughts to Him 
 
16 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 wbo made the lilies, and "so clothed the grass 
 of the fields." The sparkling waters, too, 
 were associated with the streams which make 
 glad the city of our God, and with the river of 
 the water of life. When, wearied with play, 
 the little ones gathered around her in the 
 evening twilight, watching the stars as they 
 came out from their chambers in the sky, and 
 learning from her their names, she spoke of 
 the "Morning Star," of the "Star of Bethle- 
 hem," and of them who, having turned many 
 to righteousness, " shall shine as the stars for 
 ever and ever." So that being dead, she yet 
 spake to the bereaved family who now, indeed 
 found 
 
 "Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks. 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 
 Like all the children, the youngest was 
 early taught the important duty of filial 
 obedience. The word of the parent was law 
 in the home, and loving submission was 
 promptly yielded. One day John was sport- 
 ing about the house in great glee, happy as 
 a child could be. After awhile, becoming 
 
REV. JOHN C, THOM. 17 
 
 thirsty, he asked his mother for water. His 
 father brought it, but he was unwilling to 
 take it from any one except the mother, and 
 persisted in the refusal. Then the father took 
 the cup in one hand and a rod in the other, 
 telling the child to drink. Still he would not. 
 After a few strokes of the rod, the cup was 
 again offered, and refused as before. But the 
 will of the child must yield to the will of the 
 parent, or sad consequences may follow. 
 Nearly two hours elapsed before submission 
 was secured. Then John put his arms about 
 his father's neck and kissed him, and never 
 again refused to obey a direct command. 
 
 John's love for his mother was very strong. 
 In later years he clung to her memory with a 
 beautiful and touching affection. He seemed 
 to inherit the strong will of his father, and the 
 tender sensibilities of his mother; a manly 
 head and a womanly heart. His gentle mother 
 died shortly before he attained to his fourth 
 year — that tender mother whose touch had 
 always soothed her boy, whose kind look had 
 always comforted him. They buried her on a 
 2* 
 
18 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 cold November day. Her bosom was hia 
 refuge no longer, and ever after the shadow of 
 her grave rested on his heart. 
 
 On the evening of that sad funeral day, 
 when sympathizing friends had all gone to 
 their homes, and the little household, left alone 
 in their great sorrow, gathered for family 
 prayers, John sat in his accustomed place, 
 silently looking at his father, who tried in vain 
 to sing the evening hymn. Alas! the voice 
 that had daily joined his in the sweet psalms 
 of praise was hushed, and the children, how- 
 ever much they may have wished to aid their 
 sorrow-stricken parent, could not do it. That 
 evening John resolved that he would try to 
 take his mother's place in this part of their 
 devotions, and, though many difficulties sur- 
 rounded him, his great motive so helped him, 
 that when still a mere child he led the family 
 singing. In after years he excelled in vocal 
 music, and the writer has often been deeply 
 moved whilst hearing him sing some touching 
 hymn concerning Jesus, the resurrection, or 
 heaven. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 19 
 
 Soon after the death of his mother, John 
 was taken sick. He grew worse day by day, 
 pined away, and at length seemed to be on the 
 borders of the grave. The father felt deeply 
 anxious for his boy, and wrestled with God 
 for his life. He prevailed; and receiving his 
 child as one from the dead, dedicated him 
 anew to God. 
 
 This was a sad and weary winter to John, 
 who mourned much for his mother. But with 
 returning spring he regained his wonted 
 strength, and returned, with the happy elasti- 
 city of childhood, to his usual pastimes. 
 
 It had been a custom with the children, 
 when the winter was past, to go into the 
 woods near by and look for wild flowers, 
 which very early lifted their petals among the 
 dry leaves, and this season they went as usual, 
 though there was no lap at home to receive 
 their precious burdens when they returned. 
 One morning in April, when thus engaged, 
 their father being absent from home, they dis- 
 covered that a small building adjoining the 
 house was on fire. In a little while the flames 
 
20 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 communicated with the main building. Great 
 was the alarm of the children, and they 
 hastened home. John was a brave boy, but, 
 too young to contend with the devouring ele- 
 ment, his characteristic tenderness overcame 
 every other feeling, and clinging to his eldest 
 sister, he would not allow her to enter the 
 burning dwelling. So the mother's silver, the 
 father's library, and nearly all the household 
 goods were destroyed. The sister wept, but 
 John and the other children were very cheer- 
 ful, when, at a distance, they watched the 
 progress of the flames, and saw the leaves of 
 burning books borne upward on the heated 
 currents, falling by and by like silvery ashes 
 all around. John insisted it did not matter 
 much about the property when "the children 
 were all safe and nobody hurt." In the even- 
 ing, when Mr. Thom returned, he gathered his 
 family into a room of the "old mill," and with 
 his boy's loving arms about his neck, he 
 thanked God that they still had so comfortable 
 a home, 
 . In the course of time Mr. Thom married 
 
EEV. JOHN C. THOM. 21 
 
 again. His second wife was a prudent, Chris- 
 tian woman. And although John revered the 
 memory of his own maternal parent, he yielded 
 such respect and obedience to his new mother, 
 as bound them together in warm affection 
 whilst life lasted. He would allow no dis- 
 paraging remarks to be made concerning her. 
 To his sister, when utterino: some sentiment 
 he did not quite approve, lie would say, "Now 
 stop, sister — you mustn't." She was worthy 
 of his love, and very beautiful and touching 
 were his tokens of remembrance in later years. 
 Mr. Thorn, who had been engaged in manu- 
 facturing, subsequently removed to a pleasant 
 farm which he owned, near by. This change 
 gave full exercise to the active mind of John, 
 who delighted in gathering in the lambs, tend- 
 ing the cattle, and making himself useful in 
 many ways. An old man once remarked: "It 
 is a great pity to send that boy to school, he 
 would make such an excellent farmer!" 
 Whatever he did was done with all his mio-ht. 
 
 O 
 
 He entered with great zest into the innocent 
 sports and recreations common among boys 
 
22 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 of his age, and in all his intercourse with his 
 companions lie manifested a spirit of rare 
 generosity, and kind consideration for the 
 feelings of others. Thus he spent his child- 
 hood, a truthful, loving boy; seldom in con- 
 tact with the rough or profane, a stranger to 
 the great world without, his little stores of 
 knowledge chiefly obtained from nature, the 
 family Bible, and the patient instructions of 
 the Christian home. 
 
 On the 13th of June, 1846, in the seven- 
 teenth year of his age, he was admitted to full 
 communion in the church at New Eehoboth, 
 in Clarion Presbytery, under the pastoral 
 care of Eev. James Montgomery, in which 
 church his father had long been a ruling elder. 
 He does not seem to have been the subject of 
 any remarkable religious impressions at the 
 time. It is probable that he was converted in 
 early childhood, if not sanctified from his 
 birth. There was a gradual unfolding of the 
 divine life as he grew in years, and at length 
 from a sense of duty, attracted also by the 
 beauty of Immanuel, he made a public profes- 
 
EEV. JOHN C. THOM. 23 
 
 sion of faith in Christ. Soon after this he 
 began the study of the Latin Gramm£^r, prepa- 
 ratory to a thorough literary course, reciting 
 for a time to his pastor, and for this purpose 
 riding a distance of seven miles. 
 
 He was tenderly attached to his younger 
 sisters, and they regretted his daily absence 
 from home. One of these he would take with 
 him on his horse, carrying her quite near to 
 the village, hiding her among the bushes until 
 his return, she remaining quite contentedly 
 with the flowers and birds while he was occu- 
 pied with his recitations. After spending 
 some time with his pastor he entered the 
 Academy in Clarion, then under the care of 
 Mr. Robert Sutton, afterwards a minister in 
 the Presbyterian Church. This was a happy 
 season to the young student, and it was, per- 
 haps, more noted for the expansion of his 
 social qualities than progress in studies, though 
 he ranked high in his classes. Still retaining 
 the simplicity and warm sympathies of child- 
 hood, he attracted his younger associates in 
 the school. Several of these would occa- 
 
24 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 sionally accompany him in his brief visits 
 home, an^ then had what.they called a " grand 
 time," climbing the hills and gathering wild 
 flowers, or rambling through the bending 
 orchard, and feasting on the mellow fruit. 
 Then, too, he secured the affections of young 
 men, some of whom entered the ministry 
 before him, whilst others have joined him in 
 the Better Country. 
 
 Leaving the school in Clarion, he taught in 
 a district nearby, during the winter of 1848-9, 
 and the following spring entered the Presby- 
 terial Academy at Eldersridge, which was 
 then, as it is now, under the superintendence 
 of Rev. Alex. Donaldson, D. J). During his 
 connection with this honored institution he 
 habitually manifested a determination to be 
 punctual in attendance upon all duty, and to 
 be thoroughly prepared in every exercise. 
 He made rapid advance in his studies, and. was 
 considered one of the most thorough students 
 that had ever attended the Academy. He had 
 a strong will, and whilst he studiously avoided 
 infringing upon the rights of others, he reso- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 25 
 
 lutely maintained his own. On one occasion 
 an altercation took place between him and an 
 assistant teacher. The latter appealed for 
 redress to the principal, and demanded a pub- 
 lic apology from the young student. After a 
 careful investigation of the case, it was discov- 
 ered that the pupil was not in fault, and he 
 gave evidence of so much conscientiousness, 
 and dignity of character, as to make a most 
 favorable impression on the principal, who did 
 not even remotely hint at an apology such as 
 had been demanded. Nearly ten years after 
 this occurrence he stated that at that time he 
 began to strive anew for the mastery over his 
 spirit, and his success was most signal, for 
 there have been but few whose self-control 
 and patience in suffering were so great. 
 
 His health was quite precarious, and at the 
 Academy he was deeply impressed at times 
 with the conviction that his days would be 
 few. This impression never entirely left him. 
 In his journal. May 25th, 1851, after referring 
 to a severe sickness, he asks for increase of 
 grace. "Oh! that God would give me a 
 8 
 
26 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 stronger faith, and preparation for my change. 
 Then would I gladly lie down and be at rest, 
 for I feel that my home is not here." 
 
 lie highly appreciated the religious privi- 
 leges enjoyed at the Academy, as appears from 
 the following: 
 
 "June 1. Attended church. Heard two 
 very interesting discourses by Rev. Alex. 
 Donaldson. Subject of the Lecture in the 
 morning, 1 Peter iii., from the 16th verse to 
 the close. In the afternoon, sermon on Isaiah 
 xlix. 24, 25. Discussion singularly able, and 
 application peculiarly solemn. How can we 
 remain cold under such distinguished means 
 of grace! Only the Spirit of God can awaken 
 us. In the evening attended the students' 
 Prayer-meeting; made some remarks on the 
 causes of spiritual decline, and the means of 
 revival. The meeting appeared solemn; but 
 few in attendance. O, God, revive thy work!" 
 
 "June 5. Unwell. Pain in my head. Sister 
 M — is ill. May these things teach us our 
 frailty, and stir us up to make sure work for 
 eternity." 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 27 
 
 "June 8. Feel better, but not entirely well. 
 Went to class to-day, but came home before 
 the exercises were concluded, that I might stay 
 with a sick friend. Two at his house are quite 
 ill. 0, God, Thou art giving us line upon 
 line, and precept upon precept, but still how 
 little art Thou in all our thoughts!" 
 
 "June 19. Last evening attended prayer- 
 meeting. Several ministers present. Earnest 
 and stirring appeals were made, particularly 
 by Mr. Donaldson, who spoke a few minutes 
 on the danger of stopping short of entire sur- 
 render to Jesus, even when the kingdom of 
 heaven comes nigh to us. With such appeals, 
 if our hearts were not harder than adamant, 
 they surely would melt." 
 
 "Sabbath. Was called upon to instruct a 
 class of young ladies; had considerable free- 
 dom in imparting instruction. Endeavored to 
 impress upon their minds the duty and neces- 
 sity of following Christ. Was called upon to 
 close the Sabbath-school with prayer; felt 
 some liberty in addressing the throne of 
 srrace." 
 
28 MKMOIK OF THE 
 
 Many similar extracts might be made. But 
 we must content ourselves with one or two 
 more. 
 
 "June 22. Went last evening to see E — 
 T — , thought to be in a dying condition. She 
 is young, and surrounded with all the com- 
 forts wealth can purchase, yet appears in a 
 delightful frame of mind in prospect of death : 
 willing to go. Was much cheered by her 
 godly conversation. May she be more and 
 more purified, and may I be improved by the 
 dispensations of Providence witnessed upon 
 others." 
 
 June 23. Our Bible-class did not meet to- 
 day, the teacher being absent. Felt drowsy 
 and stupid part of the time, but had some sea- 
 sons of sweet communion with God. Attended 
 prayer-meeting this evening. Spoke a few 
 minutes on the evidences of growing coldness 
 among us. Felt some freedom in prayer. Oh! 
 may I have more frequent and intimate com- 
 munion with God, and feel more earnest de- 
 sires after holiness." 
 
 During all his stay at Eldersridge he main- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 29 
 
 tained a consistent Christian deportment, ex- 
 erting a liappy influence on his fellow-stu- 
 dents, encouraging studiousness, good order, 
 and respect for religion. He was absent one 
 winter, teaching in the neighborhood of his 
 home, but completed his academic course in 
 September, 1851, leaving Eldersridge with 
 pleasant memories, and much regret. 
 
 3* 
 
30 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CUAPTEE II. 
 
 STUDENT AT JEFFERSON COLLEGE. 
 
 In the autumn of 1851, Mr. Thom entered 
 Jefferson College, at Canonsburg, Pennsyl- 
 vania. That institution was then under the 
 Presidency of Eev. A. B, Brown, D. D., a suc- 
 cessful educator, an eloquent preacher, and one 
 of the most lovely Christian characters of his 
 day. 
 
 Mr. Thom was admitted to the Junior Class, 
 in which he ranked among the highest, and in 
 the Literary Society he had few, if any, 
 superiors. His much loved friend and class- 
 mate, now the Hon. Thomas Ewing, of the 
 Pittsburgh bar, gave the almost unanimous 
 opinion of his fellow-students when he thus 
 wrote of Mr. Thom: "He was industrious, 
 energetic, and persevering; a man of more 
 than ordinary talent and intellect. As a com- 
 petitor in a long, steady, mental strife, I would 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 31 
 
 have considered him the most dangerous 
 opponent in our class. In the annual contest 
 of 1853, he represented his society as essayist, 
 and carried off the honor from a man who 
 then, and now, ranks high in ability." His 
 manner was not at all times pleasing. Some 
 considered him haughty and proud. The 
 opinion may have been correct, but, in the 
 judgment of those who knew him best, it was 
 considered erroneous, and the peculiar bearing 
 which gave rise to this misapprehension was, 
 in later years, to a considerable extent cor- 
 rected. Some enemies he had, but no one 
 ever charged him with neglect of duty, or 
 with a violation of any principle of morality, 
 or true manliness. 
 
 When he left Eldersridge, that institution 
 and the church, both under the care of the 
 Eev. Dr. Donaldson, were enjoying a precious 
 revival of religion. The religious condition 
 of the college was very different, and to him 
 the contrast was painful. In his journal we 
 find tlie following record : 
 
 "September 28th, 1851. Since I last wrote. 
 
32 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 my situation has indeed been changed. I 
 have left a place hallowed by many tender 
 associations. But duty called, and I closed 
 my career as a student in the academy for 
 ever. Though kind friends now extend to 
 me the sweet consolations of Christian sym- 
 pathy and fellowship, it is but natural that 
 the heart should turn with strong affection to 
 scenes wrapt in the mists of the past. But 
 shall I never enjoy similar pleasures? never 
 again delight in those beatific joys which can 
 only spring from communion with pious 
 friends, and with God? or shall I never feel 
 the gracious outpouring of the Spirit drawing 
 rne, with those I love, to Him, and hear many 
 inquiring the way to Zion, weeping as they 
 go?" 
 
 At this time he felt the need of special 
 watchfulness, and realized his dependence 
 upon God. Former restraints were to a great 
 extent removed. Tender voices that once bid 
 him stand fast in the truth, were indistinctly 
 heard across the space that separated him from 
 the scenes of earlier years, and unlooked for 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 38 
 
 influences, unfavorable to religious growth, 
 gathered about him. There is reason to be- 
 lieve that he lost much of the ardor and 
 strength of Christian love, which had so 
 marked a great deal of his experience at 
 Eldersridge. This afterwards became a source 
 of sorrow and deep humiliation. At one time 
 he gives expression to his anxiety and hopes 
 in language such as this : " Temptations of no 
 ordinary nature surround me. I have taken 
 another step out into the wide world, and 
 henceforth the influence of home will be but 
 feebly felt. If God spare my life, my course 
 will still be onward. How shall the contest 
 be sustained? I thank God for the hope of 
 assistance through Jesus Christ my Lord. 
 Were it not for that, my expectations would 
 indeed be vain. And yet how cold is my 
 heart! How few affections in heaven! How 
 much my thoughts are engrossed with the 
 cares and pleasures of this life! O, for a 
 closer walk with God !" 
 
 "Sabbath. Heard a sermon to-day on the 
 text : ' We are saved by hope ;' in which the 
 
34 MEMOIR OF TUE 
 
 speaker alluded to the duty of making our 
 calling and election sure. When shall I cease 
 to be harassed with doubts? O God, remove 
 these from my mind !" 
 
 Several miscellaneous extracts from his 
 journal may be introduced in this connection. 
 "Heard of the death of a dear friend, the 
 mother of two dear ones (cousins), who are 
 now without a parent on earth. O, were it 
 not for the consolations of religion, how could 
 sucli bereavements be endured?" One of 
 these cousins, Lizzie Culbertson, afterwards 
 spent several years as a missionary among 
 the Choctaws, and is now the wife of Eev. 
 Hunter Corbett, who is laboring in China. 
 
 "October 11. Spent the evening in com- 
 pany with some young persons who were pre- 
 viously strangers. In one of these the Chris- 
 tian graces seemed to be developed in an 
 extraordinary degree. Spent some time in 
 interesting, and I hope profitable, conversa- 
 tion; though, with shame and sorrow, I must 
 confess that the greater part of the interview 
 was characterized by forgetful ness of God. 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 85 
 
 "Heard tliis evening of the brutal assault of 
 one student upon another, and serious injury 
 inflicted. O, when shall the good hand of our 
 God be upon us, to curb our evil passions, and 
 lead us in the paths of true holiness! 
 
 "October 12. Dr. Brown being ill, there 
 were no services in the chapel. Went to the 
 Methodist church for the first time in many 
 months. Thought the discourse was weak, 
 yet it contained matter for reflection. May I 
 have grace to improve it ! Feel very deeply 
 concerned for my room-mate who is, I fear, 
 far from God. May I have grace to cast some 
 influence around him that shall be blest to his 
 soul. 0, that God would arouse him from the 
 lethargy of sin ! 
 
 "October 18. Some young friends from 
 Eldersridge, whom I have been expecting, 
 came on to the Female Seminary to-day. 
 Bereaved ones! May the arm of Omnipo- 
 tence be "underneath them; may his rod and 
 staff guide and comfort them," Two of these 
 friends were orphaned cousins, referred to in a 
 previous extract from his journal. They were 
 
36 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 very lovely young ladies, and not far from the 
 kingdom. Through the darkness of their 
 great sorrow, God led them into the light of a 
 good hope in Jesus. One of them is now in 
 heaven. A third cousin was also an orphan. 
 She afterwards married the Rev. W. S. Wil- 
 son, and a few years later, with a calm trust 
 in Jesus, went to the heavenly home. With 
 these orphans Mr. Thom sympathized with 
 the tenderness of a brother, and helped them 
 through many a dark passage in their seasons 
 of affliction. 
 
 On the same d.iy he writes: "Did not see 
 
 Mr. B . Felt very sorr}'^, as he is one of 
 
 the few in this cold world whose hearts are 
 warm with love to God and man. In the 
 
 evening Mrs. D handed me a beautifully 
 
 bound copy of the life of Rev. Robert Murray 
 McCheyne, with this inscription on the blank 
 leaf, — 'To Mr. J. C. Thom; a memento of obli- 
 gation, and token of true regard, from his 
 friends, Alex. Donaldson and John M. Barnet, 
 Eldersridge, Pa., October 16, 1851.' 0! 
 how unworthv of such a token I feel mv- 
 
REV. .TOITN C. THOM. 87 
 
 self to bo. Never before did I realize so 
 deeply how far short I came of doing my duty 
 to those men whose kindness to me was very 
 distinguished. And whilst I feel my un- 
 worthiness to receive this token from men, 
 may I reflect how undeserved are the bless- 
 ings of God, and may I more fully consecrate 
 myself to his service, and live to his honor 
 and glory." When it is borne in mind that 
 Mr. Thom was quite young at this time, and 
 had, with many others, simply sustained the 
 relation of pupil to the friends who gave him 
 this memento of affection, the high regard in 
 which he was held will be more apparent. 
 
 ''Oct. 19 — Sabbath. Read in the Life of 
 McCheyne. O, for the grace that character- 
 ized that young saint, so early called home. . . 
 Heard Rev. Mr. Ewing preach an excellent 
 sermon on the text : " A double minded man 
 is unstable in all his ways.'' 
 
 "Dec. 14 — Sabbath. Have to lament, as 
 
 usual, my coldness and hardness of heart; 
 
 also a disposition to feel complacency on 
 
 account of the performance of external duty. 
 
 4 
 
38 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 Trust I have in some measure enjoyed the 
 presence of God. Felt encouraged and strength- 
 ened by conversation with a friend on some of 
 the beauties of the Scriptures. Why do we 
 not oftener speak together of the things of 
 God? 0, for more grace!" 
 
 About six mouths after Mr. Thom entered 
 college, an extensive revival of religion occur- 
 red in the church connected with the college, 
 and it extended throughout the village. In 
 this work of grace he was greatly interested, 
 and labored with much earnestness for the 
 conversion of his irreligious companions. 
 Some of these he visited in their rooms, with 
 others he conversed as they walked by the 
 way. To a few he wrote earnest appeals to be 
 reconciled to God, accompanying the message 
 with fervent prayer. Again he rejoiced in the 
 dawning evidences of piety in the hearts of 
 his fellow-students, and was himself elevated 
 to a higher life. From his journal of March 
 21, 1852, we extract the following passage: 
 " With a full heart I record what God has 
 done for us. He has again visited us in mercy 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 39 
 
 and not in wrath, and wc trust many have 
 been called from darkness to Yight. 0! what a 
 privilege, to pass through such scenes, when 
 the Spirit descends with power, and sinners in 
 Zion, as well as out of it, are made to tremble. 
 I thank God that he has permitted me to see 
 another time of refreshing from his presence. 
 0! may it not be for my condemnation. I 
 trust I feel, as I never felt before, our entire 
 dependence on God. The work, God, is 
 thine. I feel also, I hope, more than ever the 
 value and efficacy of prayer. May I always 
 be importunate. I have had some precious 
 evidence in the past few weeks of the readiness 
 of God to answer prayer. I have attended 
 religious meetings for the last three weeks, 
 almost every night, during which time many, 
 we trust, have been called from death to life. 
 ... I thank God for what he has done for us, 
 especially for the hopeful conversion of my 
 room-mate, for whom I have long prayed. 
 May God be ever with him, and make him a 
 chosen vessel in his service." 
 
 He was much concerned for his Sabbath- 
 
40 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 school class, noting, with thankfulness and 
 hope, indications of growing seriousness. And 
 it was a matter of rejoicing to him, that all 
 whom he made subjects of special effort and 
 prayer were hopefully converted. 
 
 The influence of that precious season lin- 
 gered with him throughout the remainder of 
 his entire course. But during the last few 
 months of his connection with the college, 
 there were circumstances which diverted his 
 attention somewhat from the paramount claims 
 of religion. The excitement of a literary con- 
 test, and the strife for collegiate honors which 
 culminates near the close of a college course, 
 were not without their influence upon him; 
 but the diversion was only for a season, and 
 his heart returned with a warmer gush, of 
 affection to Him whose fellowship is more to 
 be desired than all the world can bestow. 
 
 It was with emotions of no ordinary sorrow 
 that the young student contemplated his de- 
 parture from college. He had formed many 
 attachments, and it was a sore trial to sunder 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 41 
 
 all the ties that bound him to the hill country, 
 and his associates in enjoyment and toil. 
 
 Now the great world is before him. His 
 little bark has been passing year by year into 
 the broader channels of life, and now the wide 
 prospect which opens before him alternately 
 excites ambition, and weighs down his spirit. 
 There were voices bidding him seek self- 
 aggrandizement, and rise high in the world, 
 but the still small voice of the Spirit whispered, 
 " Worship God, and rise to heaven !" 
 
 "I find myself," he writes, "after the usual 
 ceremonies, invested with my degree, and am 
 what the world calls 'an educated man.' How 
 insignificant it all now appears, and how little 
 do I now feel prepared for the great duties of 
 life! But after all, the preparation which is 
 most needed, is that of the heart, which comes 
 from God alone. May His grace be sufficient 
 for me !" 
 
 About the time of his graduation his health 
 began to fail, and afflictions in his father's 
 family seemed to make it necessary to modify 
 
42 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 his plans, and defer his entrance upon a course 
 of theological study. This was a great trial. 
 The way seemed long and dark before him, 
 but on the threshold of a sad and weary 
 experience he knelt at the footstool of his 
 unerring Father, saying, " My heart, cease thy 
 wild throbbings; look up to God and say, 
 ' Thy will be done.' " Then, with a stronger 
 faith in Him who led Joseph like a flock, he 
 rose, and went calmly on his way. 
 
 There is no part of our Father's discipline 
 which is unnecessary. As in the physical, so 
 in the moral kingdom, all the appointments of 
 God are important, and subserve desirable 
 ends. In the human frame there is not a 
 bone, muscle, or nerve, which is useless, — 
 without which the body would not lack some- 
 thing of its present symmetry and power. So 
 in every plant there is not a leaf nor fibre, not 
 a cell nor fluid, which does not answer some 
 important purpose. In all the range of 
 nature, in what is great and small, in all that 
 is beautiful, grand, or comparatively insignifi- 
 
KEV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 43 
 
 cant, each element has its uses, and all com- 
 bined, form a perfect unity. 
 
 So it is in the moral world. In all Chris- 
 tian experience there is no trial, disappoint- 
 ment, or suffering which is not necessary. 
 AVithout affliction the spiritual nature would 
 not attam to that fulness and beauty which 
 God designs; without it the Christian would 
 not be fitted for that particular sphere in 
 heaven which God would have him occupy. 
 "It is for your profit," is the voice of the rod, 
 and faith responds, "It is the Lord, let Him do 
 what seemeth Him good." 
 
 Mr. Thorn's life was one of no ordinary 
 affliction. His sensitive nature was peculiarly 
 susceptible to suffering. His strong attach- 
 ments to his family and friends made him a 
 constant bearer of their sorrows. The heavy 
 pecuniary losses sustained by his father, 
 severe trials in which the family became 
 involved, and his own ill health, accompanied 
 with alarming symptoms, which made it 
 doubtful whether he would ever be able to 
 
44 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 fulfil the cherished plans of his life — all these 
 weighed heavily upon him. He seldom spoke 
 of domestic and personal afflictions to any 
 outside of the little home circle, but bore them 
 with all the patience he could command, and 
 resolutely addressed himself to the duty which 
 God assigned. At times his cross seemed 
 too heavy, and his submission failed. Hard 
 thoughts of God would now and then intrude, 
 and he would drift away from his anchorage. 
 A feeling of resentment toward those who had 
 wronged him and his, would gain the ascend- 
 ency, and many a hard contest was waged on 
 the silent battle-field of his soul, of which only 
 his nearest friends knew anything, and they 
 but in part. 
 
 But his afflictions were for his good. He 
 felt that they were necessary, and his friends 
 discerned more readily than himself the good 
 resulting from them. He grew in the graces 
 of the Spirit. Humility was deepened, faith 
 was strengthened, and the tender sympathies 
 of his nature, which so distinguished him, 
 were gradually unfolded. 
 
KEY. JOHN 0. THOM. 46 
 
 "Is this the way, my Father '/—'Tis, my child, 
 Thou must pass through the tangled, dreary wild. 
 If thou wouldst reach the city undcfiled,— 
 Thy peaceful home above. 
 
 "0 Father, I'm weary !— Child, lean thy head 
 Upon my breast; it was my love that spread 
 Thy rugged path; hope on still, till I have said, 
 ' Rest, — rest for aye above.' " 
 
 There is beauty and plaintiveness in a 
 paragraph which we here transcribe from the 
 journal. "The sweet breath of summer fans 
 my aching brow. The mocking bird and 
 robin praise the Giver of their being with all 
 the glad exhilaration of life unknown to care. 
 Bright, blessed beings, they flutter out their 
 inch of life, and are seen no more! No 
 shadows come across their unruffled happi- 
 ness, and the dreams that vex man's troubled 
 being come not to them. How then are we 
 so much better than they? God cares for 
 them as for us. 'One of them shall not fall 
 on the ground without your Father.' No 
 stain of sin destroys the lustre of their beauty, 
 or the melody of their songs. No forebodings 
 
46 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 of an unknown evil disturbs their rest. In 
 happy unconsciousness they sing, and love, 
 and die! But we voyagers on a gloomy river 
 that leads to an unknown sea, are tortured 
 with spectres of the past, and frightened with 
 visions of the future. From whence, and what 
 are we; and whither are we borne? Through 
 what unknown and untried changes must we 
 pass, and where is the goal? Will endless 
 cycles roll away and find us still the same 
 sentient and imperfect beings, without the key 
 to unlock the mysteries of our being, and 
 with feeling enough to be conscious of our 
 impotence? or shall we at last sink into 
 happy unconsciousness of our littleness, and 
 cease to beat the bars of our cage because 
 they are contracted till they allow no room to 
 flutter or to feel ? Can we be happy in igno- 
 rance of all the future while our restless, 
 inquiring minds remain? Could we endure 
 the eternal routine of any life, if spread out 
 before us for our contemplation? 
 
 "The sun rises hii^her. The mornino; carol 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 47 
 
 is over. The dreams of youth yield to the 
 reflection of manhood, and the rhapsodies of 
 philosophy to the simplicity of faith. Like 
 an opium eater's dream, our troubled exist- 
 ence here will soon be over. 'After life's 
 ■fitful fever we shall sleep well,' if the hand of 
 our Father arrange the pillow for our head. 
 And where now is my hope? 'In hoc 
 vinces.' " (By this thou shalt conquer.) 
 
48 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TEACHES AT ELDERSRIDGE, PEXNSYI.VANIA, 
 
 After graduating with honor, in August, 
 1853, Mr, Thorn left Canonsburg, and imme- 
 diately returned to Eldersridge, as assistant 
 teacher in the Presbyterial Academy. This 
 position he held for two years, faithful to 
 duty, highly esteemed and much beloved by 
 the Principal, the students, and the people 
 generally. 
 
 He was active in every good work. He did 
 not confine himself to the labors of the aca- 
 demy, but rendered valuable aid to the pastor 
 of the church, and devoted himself to the 
 interests of the community in which his lot 
 was cast. 
 
 Near the close of the first year of his tutor- 
 ship, typhoid fever prevailed as an epidemic 
 in the neighborhood of Eldersridge^ and whilst 
 
REV. JOHN C, THOM. 49 
 
 many were unwilling to administer to the 
 necessities of the sick and dying, he visited 
 them promptly, unhesitatingly' doing what he 
 could to alleviate suffering. His patient atten- 
 tions and pious counsels did much to facilitate 
 recovery in those who survived, and to light 
 up the dark valley to such as were called to 
 pass through it. 
 
 "It is less than one little week," he writes 
 to a friend, "since I last addressed you, and 
 yet what a world of events have been crowded 
 into those few days. Two more have gone to 
 swell the pale host! When I wrote you last 
 
 I was sitting at the bedside of Mr. B , 
 
 After watching till morning, I rode to Saltz- 
 burg, (a village seven miles distant,) for medi- 
 cine, and on my way back met a rider who 
 told me to hasten my return. When I en- 
 tered Mr. B's room I found him apparently 
 dying. I was weary with watching, but I 
 could get no one to take my place, and 
 through the whole day I sat, and marked the 
 life-tide ebbing away. In the evening he died. 
 With my own hands I composed his stiffening 
 5 
 
50 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 limbs for tlieir last resting-place, arranged 
 upon Lis already decomposing body the 
 habiliments of the grave, assisted in bearing 
 him to the burial-ground, lowered his remains 
 into their narrow home, and heaped his 
 kindred dust upon him." 
 
 Then others required attention, and soon 
 
 intelligence comes that Mrs. I is dead. 
 
 He went to the designated place. There he 
 found a man or two of the neighborhood, but 
 no female, except the grey-headed mother of 
 the deceased, alone with her dead. In an 
 adjoining room the husband, prostrated with 
 the epidemic fever, just learning of his wife's 
 death, was weeping aloud. Mr. Thom bathed 
 the head of the sufferer, and soothed him as 
 best he could. But there were other calls, and 
 this faithful nurse must answer them. He left 
 the house quietly, and walked sadly away — 
 above him the broad arch of heaven, with its 
 beautiful stars, and masses of thick, black 
 clouds rollinor alousr on the nio-ht wind. 
 
 Again he writes from the couch of a fever 
 patient: "You speak of Mr. S 's sermon, 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 51 
 
 and wish I had heard it. I wish so, too, for I 
 need my languishing graces revived. But I 
 have had preaching of the most solemn and 
 impressive kind. The skeleton preacher has 
 been speaking — how eloquently! of the world 
 to come. He who can look with stolid indif- 
 ference upon a fellow-being, making his 
 trembling approach to the bar of God, would 
 probably not be moved by mortal oratory. 
 I trust I have not listened altogether in vain. 
 But alas! how much there is to be done! I 
 am amazed at the hardness of my heart, and 
 mourn that I have no more of the Spirit of 
 Christ. 
 
 "Earthly ties are broken: earthly friends 
 go to their long home. Here, indeed, the 
 mourners go about the streets. Sorrow and 
 sighing are our heritage. But there is an 
 eternal citizenship in heaven; an immortality 
 in the family of God. There, a Father's arm 
 around us, a Father's hand shall wipe away 
 all tears from all faces. O, let us go to Him 
 with hearts overflowins; with love! 
 
 "The epidemic seems to be abating, but we 
 
52 MEMOm OF THE 
 
 thought SO once before. We are in the hands 
 of the Lord. Let Him do what seemeth good 
 in Ilis sight." 
 
 The panic occasioned by this single out- 
 break of disease greatly reduced the number 
 of students. It would have been to Mr. 
 Thorn's interest to have accepted any of the 
 calls by which he was urged to go into a 
 much more lucrative connection with other 
 schools. But out of sympathy with the aca- 
 demy in its troubles, he remained a year 
 longer, aiding much in recruiting its numbers, 
 and in establishing its reputation for thorough 
 instruction. 
 
 This is only one of many incidents which 
 might be cited, of what he was willing to 
 sacrifice for the good of others, and the cause 
 of Christ. And yet he guarded against an 
 over-estimate of his labors and self-denials. 
 He continued at his post "in weakness, 
 anxiety, and frequent depression, lamenting, 
 with shame and confusion of face, unfaithful- 
 ness to the students and to God." 
 
 At one period he complains of great cold- 
 
KEV. JOHN C. THOM. 63 
 
 ness: "I do not know that I ever endured so 
 long a season of spiritual depression. Now, 
 indeed, God seems to be coming near, and 
 offering to be gracious." 
 
 Writing to one of his regular correspondents 
 just before a communion Sabbath, he says: 
 "I had a letter to-day from a dear friend of 
 former days, asking, in the most earnest 
 manner, how to become a Christian. I think 
 I never felt so much as now the weakness of 
 man, and the awful responsibility resting on 
 the professing Christian. May God give me 
 wisdom! Eev. Mr. McElwain came to-day, 
 and preached two most searching sermons. 
 He talks to men as if he meant to be under- 
 stood." 
 
 "Monday. Communion is now over. It 
 was a sweet and solemn time. I hope there 
 are good things in store for us. Surely the 
 Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel. O, 
 that we were able to get nearer to God !" 
 
 Not long after, he mentions an interesting 
 fact: "Meetings for prayer and conference 
 have been held in my room every night for the 
 5* 
 
54 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 last week, but O, bow dead Ave are ! Spirit of 
 the living God, come and breatlie upon these 
 dry bones, and they shall live!'' 
 
 It was not loufT until God heard the cries of 
 his people, and again opened windows in hea- 
 ven over an institution and church which have 
 been often and remarkably blessed, with "sea- 
 sons of refreshing from the presence of the 
 Lord." 
 
 The pastor labored with great earnestness, 
 sustained by the prayers and cooperation of 
 believers, and rejoiced in the precious harvest 
 of souls. Mr. Thorn spent days in fasting, and 
 nights in prayer, whilst attending to his oner- 
 ous duties in the Academy, and riding to 
 Lebanon (four miles distant) to conduct an 
 evening prayer-meeting. 
 
 He also addressed letters to unconverted 
 friends, urging them to come to Jesus, and to 
 come without delay. Thus he writes to one: 
 "Will you be angry with me for addressing 
 you this morning in the name of God? Will 
 you despise the message, because brought by 
 one sold under sin? I am concerned for your 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM 55 
 
 soul. Another time of solemn interest is pass- 
 ing, and faith almost fails." Then, with a 
 peculiar sweetness, and touching references to 
 the personal history of his unconverted friend, 
 he pleads for Jesus and xoith Him, that unbe- 
 lief may be laid down at the foot of the cross. 
 
 Then, too, he found time to write or speak 
 encouragingly to God's people, urging them to 
 plead for the conversion of their friends, "for 
 His own name's sake," and when praying for 
 their children, he reminded Him of His cove- 
 nant. To one who mourned the death of a 
 father he found time to address words of com- 
 fort, and the letter is so characteristic that we 
 insert it here. " I am becoming familiar with 
 scenes of death — the countenance ghastly and 
 livid — the body cadaverous and ulcerated — 
 the eye now wandering with vacant look, and 
 now lit up with unwonted fire — the limbs stif- 
 fening for their last repose — the breath coming 
 in short and painful gasps — the death rattle, 
 the quivering flesh, the solemn stillness that 
 tells all is over — the wail of the bereaved as 
 the feelings so long struuo- to their utmost ten- 
 
66 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 sioa suddenly relax, and the cold iron of des- 
 pair enters the soul! Ah! I see it all. But 
 no death scene is more vividly before me than 
 that which I never saw, except through the 
 medium of your bereaved and wounded heart. 
 It may seem unkind to call up, and dwell 
 upon, a topic fraught with such painful memo- 
 ries. I think otherwise. Sad as those memo- 
 ries are, there is pleasure in them still. It is 
 sweet to think of the love we have enjoyed, 
 though it be lost to us for ever. It is pleasant 
 to meditate upon the infinite gain of our dear 
 departed, though it cost us bitter, burning 
 tears. It is elevating and purifying to realize 
 that we have an earthly link binding us to the 
 world of spirits, another dear one in our 
 Father's house. And apart from all this, it is 
 good sometimes to meditate upon the awful 
 circumstances of dissolution, and the still more 
 stupendous realities which ensue. It assists 
 us to number our days, that we may apply our 
 hearts to wisdom." 
 
 But we cannot tarry here. Much might be 
 written of his faithfulness in his relations to 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 57 
 
 the Academy, and the people with whom he 
 associated in acts of worship and the pleasant 
 amenities of social life. From what has already 
 been noted, we learn the secrets of his power. 
 It was no wonder that his influence over the 
 students was great, and that the events of those 
 two years, and especially those months of tri- 
 bulation and subsequent revival, are remem- 
 bered with emotions of mingled sorrow and 
 gratitude by many to whom he ministered, 
 who are now scattered over half a continent. 
 
63 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 TEACHER IN NATCHEZ, MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 After teaching two years at Eldersridge, a 
 dear friend who was engaged in the same 
 vocation in Natchez, Mississippi, earnestly 
 solicited him to remove to that city, which, 
 after much thought and prayer, he consented 
 to do. Having devoted the most of the pro- 
 ceeds of his labors to his now dependent 
 friends — his father having lost an arm, and 
 being otherwise afflicted — and it being imprac- 
 ticable for him to enter the Theological Semi- 
 nary, which he so much longed to do, he felt 
 that duty called him to a field of labor where 
 his pecuniary remuneration would be larger, 
 and he might discharge at once the obligations 
 of filial duty, and secure the means to continue 
 his studies with reference to the ministry. 
 Then, thougli the tender attachment of his 
 
EEV. JOHN C. TDOM. 59 
 
 friends led them to put every possible barrier 
 in his way, and his naturally affectionate tem- 
 perament made it hard for him to go, yet he 
 broke away from all the ties of home and 
 endeared friendship, and with "his whole being 
 quivering with intense feeling" went forth to 
 do, 80 far as he could, the work to which he 
 felt God had called him. 
 
 On his journey southward he saw much to 
 interest him, and discovered beauty where 
 others looked for it in vain. Passing down 
 the dull channel of the Mississippi he was 
 charmed with the scenery along the route. 
 The broad river, the beautiful islands, the 
 autumn-tinted foliage, famished entertainment, 
 and suggested pleasant thoughts of Him who 
 spread the "beautiful earth abroad," 
 
 His entrance into Natchez made a pleasant 
 impression on his mind, and was long after 
 recalled as one of the fairest pictures which 
 memory had preserved. He enjoyed the ride 
 through groves of honey-locusts, and magno- 
 lias, and yellow poplar, festooned with hanging 
 moss, and wreathed with grape and muscatine 
 
60 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 vines, and through gardens adorned with 
 banana and palm trees, growing with a luxu- 
 riance of which our northern imaginations can 
 scarcely form a conception. "The situation of 
 upper Natchez," he writes, "is exceedingly 
 beautiful. It seems to me like a fairy land, 
 even yet, in September, all blooming with 
 roses. The streets are wide and shady, the 
 grounds adorned with art and nature in per- 
 fection blended ; the air is soft and fragrant; 
 'the tree top't mounds with spiral pathways, 
 fringed with flowers ;' the curiously trimmed 
 evergreens, the orange groves and magnolias, 
 the juicy pomegranates and blooming hedges, 
 the park and the broad smooth river, — all 
 unite in making this a place of wondrous 
 beauty." 
 
 Though young, enthusiastic, and of a poeti- 
 cal turn of mind, he was no visionary. He 
 entered with zeal upon the most practical 
 duties, and was as persevering as he was dili- 
 gent. He was engaged in the City Institute as 
 principal of the senior department, also in a 
 Female Seminary, and elsewhere; teaching. 
 
REV. .TOHX C. THOM. 61 
 
 much of the time, nine hours and a half a day. 
 In the Institute he taught Latin, Greek, and 
 the higher Mathematics, and during the two 
 years of his connection with the school he was 
 absent from his duties but one day. Though 
 his labors as instructor were very great, yet he 
 was so methodical that he found time for mis- 
 cellaneous reading, theological studies, writing, 
 and social visiting, not neglecting any reli- 
 gious duty. He very soon formed a large cir- 
 cle of acquaintances, who did whatever could 
 be done to make his sojourn pleasant. 
 
 Though he had many religious advantages 
 in Natchez, yet he was peculiarly exposed to 
 temptation, and associated with evil; but he 
 maintained his Christian integrity — stood fast 
 in the Lord. One who knew him intimately, 
 a man of much intelligence, discernment, and 
 piety, says of him: "From my first acquaint- 
 ance with Mr. Thorn, his religion was un- 
 doubted. Of it he made no ostentatious dis- 
 play, but it manifested its controlling influence 
 over him on all occasions — in all circum- 
 6 
 
62 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 stances. I never knew a more uniformly con- 
 sistent Christian." 
 
 Not long after he commenced his labors in 
 Natchez, the city was visited with that most 
 dreadful of southern epidemics, the yellow 
 fever. There was great consternation among 
 the people generally. Strangers were more 
 alarmed than the citizens, for they were in 
 greater danger. With the other northern 
 teachers, Mr. Thom was sent into the country, 
 where it was supposed they would be com- 
 paratively safe. They were most kindly 
 received to the home of an estimable widow 
 lady, and remained tliere six weeks. Here 
 Mr. Thom and his companions passed their 
 time very happily, though soberly, as the 
 epidemic passed around them. Their friend- 
 ship grew stronger as the weeks advanced, 
 and they drew nearer to God, whose protect- 
 ing hand kept them from the " noisome pes- 
 tilence." 
 
 Speaking of his isolation, and occasional 
 loneliness, he writes: "My port-folio is my 
 relipf in depression. Thinking is my only 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 63 
 
 relief from thought, and I never can think so 
 obliviously as when I have pen and paper 
 before me. I do not feel alarmed — not the 
 least. I am in the hands of that God who has 
 led me hitherto, and who, I am fully per- 
 suaded, will take care of me in the future. I 
 never could say more truly than at this 
 moment, 'Let Him do with me as seemeth 
 Him good.' " 
 
 At a later period: "I think now that we 
 are perfectly safe in the country, even if a fow 
 more cases should occur in the city. And, 
 indeed, the mercy of God has been very 
 specially manifested to us, for this is the only 
 house in the neighborhood I know of, which 
 has entirely escaped. And although I felt 
 secure all the time, now I know there was but 
 a step between me and death. Doubtless 
 dear ones prayed for me, that the good hand 
 of the Lord might be upon me." 
 
 He spoke in the highest terms of the Chris- 
 tian hospitality, and the motherly kindness of 
 the lady who had so promptly received him. 
 
64 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 ■witli others, to her palatial residence, and said, 
 "this house seems a 'Bethel.' " 
 
 "I am not superstitious," he writes, "but I 
 cannot help feeling sometimes that the mind 
 looks forward, and takes its tone from the 
 future. Especially did I think of this when I 
 saw men around me, with no more liklihood 
 of sickness than I, making their wills, and 
 settling their business, preparatory to setting 
 out to the undiscovered country. But I never 
 felt any anxiety. I never could feel that I 
 was in danger." 
 
 "When the pestilence had passed by, Mr. 
 Thorn returned to the city, and resumed his 
 duties in the Institute and Seminary. Teach- 
 ing all day prepared him to enjoy the evening 
 air, ladened with fragrance, sweeping up 
 fresh and cool from the broad waters. The 
 pleasant walks along the blufis, and about the 
 spacious gardens, would have lured out one 
 more sedentary. Sometimes he watched with 
 the sick. Occasionally he met with a Literary 
 Society, and now and then he turned aside, in 
 his twilight rambles, to listen to the apparently 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 65 
 
 earnest devotions of the colored people who 
 met, from time to time, to worship God in 
 their untutored way. 
 
 He had a happy faculty of talking with 
 young persons on religious subjects. Several 
 of his pupils came to him with burdened 
 hearts, asking for his counsel and prayers. 
 Young hearts were laid bare to him in sorrow 
 and contrition, which had been judged 
 harshly by the world, but were susceptible of 
 deep impressions from Divine truth, and were 
 turning toward the cross. One day there 
 came to him a lad, noted among his com- 
 panions for a reckless way, that left the im- 
 pression that he was peculiarly depraved. 
 But as he talked to his teacher of his hopes 
 and fears; of his mother whose home, now in 
 heaven, he wished to share; of his tender 
 remembrance of her care and her prayers, Mr. 
 Thorn felt hopeful, and encouraged him to 
 follow on to seek the Lord. Afterward, the 
 young wanderer seemed to enter the way of 
 life, and invoked blessings on the head of him 
 who helped him in his search for Jesus. 
 
66 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 At the expiration of his first year ia 
 Natchez, he wrote thus in his diary: "August 
 30, 1856. One year of southern life is ended. 
 Through all the dangers of a journey of many 
 hundred miles, and the more alarming dan- 
 gers of a fearful epidemic, Thy protection, O 
 God, has been over me; and, sinful as I am, I 
 trust a small measure of Thy grace is in my 
 heart. I have suffered, but not as I deserved. 
 I have been chastened, but gently. Enable 
 me to record Thy goodness, and to adorn 
 my Christian profession, not only here, but 
 through my whole life. 
 
 "And now I am about to enter upon the 
 arduous labors of another year. Do Thou 
 help me. Aid me in my preparations for the 
 gospel ministry, and give me grace to dis- 
 charge the duties of that high calling, or keep 
 me from profaning it. May God in mercy 
 watch over me. I have no strength but His. 
 May the blessing of God rest upon this house- 
 hold — (Mrs. North's.) May they never have 
 occasion to regret their kindness to mc, and 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 67 
 
 may I prove a blessing to them, and the 
 interesting pupils under my care." 
 
 Near the close of his second year, he an- 
 nounced his determination to return north, 
 and devote all his time to preparation for the 
 ministry. Many and strenuous efforts were 
 made, with the view of inducing him to 
 change his purpose. A large increase of 
 salary was proposed. Parents and pupils 
 besought him to stay. But he felt conscien- 
 tiously constrained to adhere to his original 
 plans. 
 
 Before leaving Natchez he received many 
 pleasant tokens of affection, and expressions of 
 gratitude for his labors. The lady in whose 
 family he taught a portion of every day, was 
 accustomed to call him her "child," and when 
 he referred to his great indebtedness to her 
 for her sympathy, and tender care of the 
 stranger, she told him she was abundantly 
 recompensed for it already, and that if it 
 should ever be her privilege to hear him 
 preach sweet messages of salvation, she would 
 be recompensed a thousand-fold for all her 
 
68 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 care. On New-Year's day she presented him 
 with a beautiful gold watch. He wrote an 
 acknowledgment which deeply moved the 
 feelings of the kind lady, and she replied in 
 the following unique letter: "To prepare a 
 New-Year's gift for you, my child, seems 
 nothing strange to me, nor took a thought 
 from my occupations. But your note! I 
 have tried to read it without shedding tears, 
 but each time I weep the same. I did not 
 want you to think so much about it. "Well, 
 never mind, my child, some of these da3^s you 
 will graduate at the Seminary. You will soon 
 stand in the sanctuary. Old and young will 
 turn rapt faces to yours, as if they were look- 
 ing up to heaven. You will point to the 
 downward path that all most follow, and 
 mingle dust with the dust of ages. You will 
 then turn, beautifully and eloquently, to the 
 new generation, and the life of the Spirit 
 above, eternally with the Father of all. They 
 will listen, and in their hearts all will call you 
 blessed. By-and-by an old lady, journeying 
 eastward, will stop at your 'village,' and 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 69 
 
 attend church. She seats herself; wipes her 
 glasses; adjusts the focus; surveys the church 
 and people. The pastor rises. Lo! it is her 
 own child. She suppresses, for some time, 
 her emotions, but nature finally breaks away 
 in a great sob. The people stare at the lady. 
 The minister looks at the time, and perceives 
 it is the precise time of the ' Old Lady's Eecom- 
 pense.' 
 
 'Dost like the picture.' " 
 
 But time passes. Tender ties must be sun- 
 dered. Sad farewells must be spoken. With 
 all the intoxication of success, all the flatteries 
 of a highly appreciative people, all the ten- 
 derness of new friendships to detain him, he 
 turned his back upon the south, his face 
 towards the scenes of his childhood, and almost 
 with a shout, with a fulness of feeling that 
 few natures can appreciate, he hastened to his 
 far off home, and toward the fulfilment of the 
 cherished purpose of his life. 
 
70 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 E X T R A (; T S F R O >t JOURNAL. 
 
 In his journal, kept at Natchez, in connec- 
 tion with the record of current events, he fre- 
 quently expanded some thought suggested by 
 his reading, or the occurrences of the day. 
 Many of these efl'usions, though hastily writ- 
 ten, are worthy of preservation. They indi- 
 cate an amount of general information unusual 
 in so young a man, and give us an insight into 
 the inner life of the writer. Without further 
 introduction we will here insert a few selec- 
 tions from these "Notes by the Way." 
 
 "February 15. The church bells peal the 
 hour of worship. Sweetly solemn, their min- 
 gled voices fall on the stillness of the Sabbath, 
 telling us that our merciful Father has brought 
 us safely through another week, and now calls 
 upon us to offer up our sacrifice of praise for 
 His goodness; telling us, too, that we poor 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 71 
 
 pilgrims here are not orphans also, tossed upon 
 this troul)led scene without a guardian or a 
 guide, but the great ear is open to our cry, and 
 the eye of infinite compassion looks upon us; 
 telling us that there is still a link between us 
 and the great world above, and leading us 
 away from the sordid pursuits of this fleeting 
 existence towards the great future; speaking 
 of that most sublime circumstance, 'man in 
 audience with the Deity.' But there is a tone 
 of sadness in them too. Coming upon the 
 breath of morning, they sound mournfully; 
 like a funeral knell they speak of the grave, 
 and all its melancholy associations ; they speak 
 of the loved and lost, with whom we took 
 sweet counsel and walked to the house of God. 
 But most of all, they speak of sin. Sad heri- 
 tage; possession sadder still. 
 
 ' E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 
 And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.' 
 
 "As the most impressive expression of sin 
 ever made, or ever to be made, was the sacri- 
 fice of Christ, so, oft as the day returns it 
 
72 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 brings back the memory of our mournful con- 
 dition. Away, away from the presence of our 
 Father, exposed to the attacks and influences 
 of malicious natures, and malicious spirits, like 
 half-clad and houseless wanderers in a winter 
 storm, we crouch and cower under the nearest 
 shelter, and stand, shivering, as the storms of 
 life roll on, instead of pressing vigorously on- 
 Avard toward our home, and the comfortable 
 presence of God. Chilled through with the 
 biting atmosphere of this dark world, and 
 bewildered in its mazes, 'then I'll look up.'- 
 There the day-star shines to guide me home, 
 and there the blessed Sun of Righteousness, to 
 cheer and warm me with rays of love while here. 
 
 "February 19. — 
 
 ' Re near me when the light is low, 
 When the blood creeps and the nerves prick 
 And tingle, and the heart is sick. 
 And all the wheels of being slow. 
 Be near me when the sensuous frame 
 Is racked with pangs that conquer trust, 
 And time a maniac scattering dust, 
 And life a fury flinging flame, 
 Be near me.' 
 
REV. JOHN G. TTTOM. 73 
 
 "And why? Not to lighten the burden of 
 grief when the mind is bowed down with its 
 weight; not to soothe the aching brow or 
 quivering nerves when the body is racked 
 with pain, but to act as a sentinel upon the 
 wandering fancies, and call back the wild 
 vagaries of the unsettled mind. Poor human 
 reason, distracted by the strange contradic- 
 tions of this 'wondrous, weary, unintelligible 
 world,' is not left to wander alone amid the 
 night of years. Solitude is delightful to a con- 
 templative mind, but to most natures its unre- 
 strained indulgence is dangerous. Different 
 minds, with their various errors, like the 
 opposite influences of the planets in our sys- 
 tem, in the end compensate each other. But 
 a single one, unconnected, stretching out on 
 the sea of thought, pursues the still vanishing 
 solution of the great problems of life and 
 death, God and man, being and dissolution, 
 till out of sight of shore, befogged in the midst 
 of ignorance, bewildered by the contradictory 
 voices of nature and his own soul, and drifted 
 away by the currents of passion and of pride, 
 ■ 7 
 
74 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 lie becomes 'a wanderer o'er eternity, whose 
 bark drives on and on, and ne'er shall anchored 
 be.' Let the soul build realms for herself which 
 shall never be realized, and people them with 
 beings that shall never exist, but check the 
 first budding of crude speculation, and forbid 
 the first interrogation of impertinent inquiry. 
 
 " It is night. "We should dwell upon beau- 
 ties not found upon earth, and even grow 
 familiar with dreams of happiness which this 
 life shall never see. 
 
 " February 24. 
 
 * How glorious, how majestic is yonder setting sun, 
 'Tis thus the hero falls, 'tis thus he dies in godlike majesty.' 
 
 I was reading to-day of an interview between 
 Bayard Taylor and the Baron Von Humboldt, 
 at the close of which the veteran traveler took 
 the hand of his younger rival and said: 'You 
 have traveled much, and seen many ruins. 
 You have now seen another.' To which Tay- 
 lor responded: 'Not a ruin; a pyramidP A 
 pyramid indeed. The drifting sands of the 
 desert shall sooner swallow up those of the 
 Nile than the dust of ages bury the story of 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 75 
 
 his wanderings. They may have served to 
 conceal the treasures of kings; but his re- 
 searches assisted to develope those of the King 
 of kings. They may have answered as tombs 
 for the Ptolemies, but he dragged to light 
 secrets concealed since before the Ptolemies 
 were. If such a man be not great, what is 
 true greatness? Does it consist in the perfect 
 training of Gustavus Adolphus, the school- 
 master of war, or in the reckless bravery of 
 Charles XII., or in the eccentricity of Frederic 
 William, and his brigade of seven-footers? 
 These all acted their part in the drama of the 
 world, and thousands of others have figured, 
 and will figure, upon the same stage. But 
 there is an arena grander still, where, instead 
 of the boundaries of empire, the boundaries of 
 thought are extended, and where the victims 
 are not regiments of soldiers, but ignorance 
 and prejudice. A soldier may be great. A 
 conqueror may be a hero; he may stem the 
 tide of despotism, and break the fetters of 
 opposition. But he is not great in his calling, 
 or even in his success. He is great only when 
 
76 MEMOIK OF THE 
 
 his object is great. But he who spends his 
 life in conquering the obstacles to human 
 improvement, and in enlarging the range of 
 human knowledge, and increasing the material 
 for thought, is great in himself, in his calling, 
 and in his success. 
 
 "February 18. There is to me something 
 peculiarly pleasant in those creations of fancy 
 which the soul conjures up as a kind of offset 
 to the duller realities of life, as if to compen- 
 sate herself for her uncongenial surroundings. 
 Whilst clogged with the corporeal incum- 
 brance, she takes advantage of moments of 
 vacancy to wander oft' into an airy realm of 
 her own, and to expatiate amid its aerial beau- 
 ties. Becoming itself a portion of the world 
 of its own creating, far from the gross contacts 
 of real life, it finds its congenial residence 
 where no jar disturbs the unbroken harmony, 
 and no sorrow intrudes upon unmingled hap- 
 piness. Now, instead of condemning these airy 
 flights, they seem to me a beautiful evidence 
 of something nobler in man than the present 
 state is able to develope, something to which 
 
REV. JOUN C. THOM. 77 
 
 pollution is foreign, and discord painful, and 
 which, in itself, looks to a future for deliver- 
 ance from a painful captivity. Instead of 
 chaining down the imagination to the narrow 
 limits of daily routine, and circumscribing the 
 mind to its range of observation, I would 
 encourage it to rise higher and higher in its 
 flight, and breathe an atmosphere purer and 
 purer, as it leaves the rank effluvia that reeks 
 up from the seething caldron of sordid selfish- 
 ness, open debauchery, and secret crime, until 
 bathing its broad wing with confident nativity 
 in its proper element, it basks again in the 
 undimmed radiance of heaven. There the 
 shackles will drop off, and, above the world, 
 angels will be its companions, and God iTs 
 sun and shield. 
 
 "March 3. I have just received a letter 
 from a dear friend, recording the goodness of 
 God in taking him 'from the horrible pit and 
 miry clay.' Bless the Lord, my soul! But 
 indeed his story is a sad one — all his fond 
 hopes of love, and home, and happiness, sud- 
 denly swept away. No wonder his faith reeled 
 
78 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 under the blow. No wonder the heavens 
 seemed like brass, and the earth like iron, long 
 before he was softened, and so humbled as to 
 say, ' Thy will be done.' May He who giveth 
 songs in the night, still comfort and sustain 
 him." 
 
 "March 7. * * * But after all, how fantas- 
 tic are all my woes! How puerile my causes 
 of despondency! It is true there are graves in 
 my heart, both of hopes and friends. But I 
 have life, and energy, and something burning 
 within, turning my brain to fire, and my blood 
 to lava, and my muscles to steel, as I almost 
 shout to enter the battle-field, and try my 
 strength with men upon the arena of life. I 
 chafe like a caged eagle. I long to try my 
 wings on the unmeasured expanse, and my 
 secret soul never doubts of success. But when 
 shall I obtain the power? Except a mass of 
 thought, struggling for utterance, and finding 
 none, and a will that compels all but impossi- 
 bilities, I know I have but little. Yet, He 
 who has led me hitherto, can use as humble an 
 instrument as I for His glory. Do not say I 
 
KEY. JOHN C. THOM. 79 
 
 am moved by pride of place. I think I am 
 willing to labor wherever duty calls. For my- 
 self I care not. Labor, and toil, and penury; 
 penury, labor, and toil, will doubtless mark 
 the weary cycles of my pilgrimage upon earth, 
 and I shall be content if I enjoy the smile of 
 my Father in Heaven. But I am ambitious to 
 stand in the front rank of those who turn 
 many to righteousness. Lay the coal from thy 
 altar upon my lips, O purifying Spirit, and 
 breathe upon my cold heart, that it may glow 
 with new life.'' 
 
 "April 8. The sky, so clear all day, has 
 been suddenly overcast. The clouds are 
 thick and dark, and the old trees are waving 
 their arms wildly as an unchained maniac. 
 If Virgil and a few others had not described 
 storms, I should be tempted to do so! But 
 the world is pretty well posted on that subject, 
 so I forbear. It seemed to me, however, that 
 Jupiter Tonans, grasping the lightning in his 
 glittering right hand, and the more enlightened 
 idea of 'our God, who plants his footsteps in 
 
80 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 the sea, and rides upon the storm,' is the 
 irresistible impression of such a scene. 
 
 " That the peaceful, silent air, that sleeps in 
 the shady valley — the balmy zephyr that 
 kisses the invalid's cheek — 'the sweet south 
 wind that breathes upon a bank of violets,' 
 should awake to such a fearful energy without 
 the stimulus of an Omnipotent hand, seems 
 incredible. And when the fierce coursers are 
 unbound, who but God could lay his hand 
 upon their manes, and bind them to His 
 chariot? 
 
 " But who can feel the pressure of a present 
 sublimity and then mould his thoughts to 
 words? The mirror returns an image, dimmed, 
 it is true, but faithful. The air transmits the 
 thunder's sound with diminished power, but 
 it is thunder still. Even in death we trace 
 some feeble remains of its empire over clay ; 
 but neither mirror, nor medium, nor image, 
 has the soul to shadow forth its unwritten 
 volumes, or give expression to its soundless 
 tones. 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 81 
 
 "April 9.— 
 
 Across the valley Acheronian, 
 
 Speak the dead in song and story; 
 
 But the soul in depth Plutonean, 
 
 Hides away its secrets hoary. 
 
 The bard may reach the night Cimmerian, 
 
 "With not a ray upon its shore, 
 
 When upward to the bright Hyperian 
 
 "With tireless, mounting, fancy soar; 
 
 But pen and word, and thought and tongue. 
 
 Have left the soul untold, unwritten, and unsung. 
 
 *' Mrs. North says sTie invoked the harp of 
 the north. But instead of that I got to the 
 very opposite extreme. Well, perhaps the 
 language is a little Tartarian, but I shall 
 insist the only fault the idea has is, that it is 
 too true to be poetic. Mrs. North sympatheti- 
 cally adds, that she never saw a poor wanderer 
 so tempest tossed from the lowest depths up 
 to Cimmerian, and then up to Hyperian. 
 Well, it was a considerable distance to ride a 
 muse in the space of ten lines. It must 
 almost equal Mahommed's dromedary ! Dear, 
 kind woman! If the blessing of the stranger 
 can in any degree lighten the human lot, 
 surely yours will shine more and more unto 
 the perfect day. 
 
82 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 "April — . Busy all day: nothing done. 
 And so life passes. How many vain regrets ; 
 how many fraitlcss resolutions; how many 
 puerile efibrts, make up the sura total of a 
 man's history ! Life is scarcely a strife. In 
 the experience of most men, it is an unquiet 
 lingering on the outskirts of the battle-field, 
 ■without the resolution to enter the lists until 
 the sun goes down. The herald proclaims the 
 contest over, and the laurels are not won. 
 The war, indeed, is in our ears all the day 
 long. We see the success and failures of the 
 combatants all around us. But we delay and 
 dally; we 'resolve and re-resolve, and die the 
 same.' Especially now, our flaccid muscles, 
 and eflfeminated frames, are no longer fit 
 tenements for the iron wills, and unconquera- 
 ble resolution, of our ancestry. I am not dis- 
 posed to depreciate the present race, and 
 unduly exalt the more gross and unrefined 
 state of society from which our forefathers 
 emerged, but I do think that, as a nation and 
 people, we are becoming French^ in a geometri- 
 cal ratio, and soon, lawless indolence, and aim- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 88 
 
 less flippancy, will have supplanted the radical 
 virtues of simplicity, economy, and energy. 
 
 "April 15. I have not sufficient elasticity, 
 either of mind or feeling, to interest myself in 
 the process of writing. What a strangely 
 constituted being I am, or I might extend 
 the range to include my fellow-worms, and 
 say ive. We swim in a sea of pleasure, and 
 think 'life too fair for aught so fleeting,' and 
 then, without a real cause, we writhe in agony, 
 as if our bed were suddenly turned to lava. 
 'Now what is Hecuba to me, or me to 
 Hecuba?' And yet I am sad almost beyond 
 control. The current of life is flowing 
 smoothly in my veins; my friends are kind 
 as ever; my prospects as good as they were 
 wont to be, and yet the folly of a silly boy 
 or two can depress my spirit till my heart is 
 almost ready to relieve itself in tears. 
 
 "Through the mists around me the phantom 
 appears a monster, clothed with Gorgon horrors, 
 and with all my resolution I cannot shake off 
 the incubus that weighs upon me. But were 
 my trials all that my fancy paints them, 'or 
 
84 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 worse than worst of those that lawless and 
 uncertain thoughts imagine,' why should the 
 spirit that claims affinity with the Deity, a 
 link midway between two worlds, an interest 
 to all the intelligent universe, for which angels 
 labor, and devils howl, and God himself bled, — 
 why should that which roams at will through 
 the illimitable fields of knowledge, and the 
 still grander field of imagination, be chafed 
 and galled by the discomforts and difficulties 
 of an inch of space, and a point of time? 'O, 
 what a mystery is man to man ! I wonder at 
 myself and in myself am lost,' 
 
 "Time seems, for the last week or two, 
 
 to pass slowly, while, before, it went with 
 lightning speed. The approaching May, with 
 its excitements, and the prospect of my own 
 examination, makes the difierence, I presume. 
 The time of my sojourn here seems almost at 
 a close. Bat a little more than three months, 
 and the places that know me now, shall know 
 me no more. My heart will be very sad at 
 parting from the few friends who have strewed 
 my path with all the happiness I have enjoyed, 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM, 85 
 
 and whose like I may not hope to see again; 
 who forgave faults none the less readily 
 because they give acute and peculiar pain, 
 and who seem, with all my faults, to love me 
 still. O, what a world Heaven must be, where 
 all the inhabitants are pure benevolents, and 
 the God of love over all ! 
 
 "April 16. Came home and found a most 
 beautiful vase of flowers on my table; roses, 
 and pinks, and camelias, — beautiful and rare! 
 Blessings on the giver! Those lovely evi- 
 dences of the goodness of God meet me like 
 angel messengers, and point my groveling 
 thoughts to heaven. 
 
 'Sweet fields beyond the swelling tide, 
 Stand dressed in living green/ 
 
 and our heavenly Father shows Uis goodness 
 in nothing more than strewing our pathway 
 here with these lovely, silent, eloquent, mes- 
 sengers of a good God to His prodigal chil- 
 dren. 
 
 "April 19, If we view life from the mere 
 stand-point of time, it is indeed a failure. It 
 8 
 
8.6 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 is at best but a sad experiment. Sad^ even 
 when most successful. Even when our hoary 
 heads are crowned with honor, we but go 
 down to the grave, and mix with the com- 
 monest dust at last, and 'he died,' is the sum- 
 ing up of man's history. But few, as far as 
 life is intrinsically considered, would endure 
 life, and none would live it over again. 
 'What is all this worth?' is the natural 
 inquiry of all men, after tasting all that life 
 can afford. Bat when considered in the great 
 light of eternity, it becomes a very different 
 matter. When ten thousand ages have rolled 
 away ; when the lights that shone on creation's 
 dawn, and which shall shine unchanged upon 
 its night, shall have burnt out their fires, and 
 fallen back into their original chaos; when all 
 things shall be old but God, and the spirits 
 which he breathed into existence; when the 
 present shall have become the hoary past, and 
 the past shall be forgotten, — then, in our 
 separate individualities, we shall know the 
 value of life. 'It is a tale told by an idiot,' 
 for its meaning, its fearful meaning, is mis- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 87 
 
 taken. It is but an unquiet wandering in a 
 strange land, for our home lies bej'-ond. 
 'Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah!' May 
 this not only be a new year of my life, but a 
 year of a new life. (Written on his birthday.) 
 "May 3. Chilly and damp— fit representa- 
 tion of this world of ours. It is true I have 
 comfortable apartments, and a cheerful fire, by 
 which I place my great arm-chair and enjoy 
 the genial warmth; but clouds are over the 
 face of the sky, and the great sun is obscured, 
 while the rain patters unceasingly, or, driven 
 by the cold wind, beats against my casement. 
 So in life, we gather around us our little world, 
 wrap ourselves in the comforts and enjoyments 
 of our homes, and warm ourselves by the rays 
 of human love, and while our roof-tree is firm, 
 and our fire goes not out, we may close our 
 eyes and ears for a little. But it is still true, 
 notwithstanding, that, outside, all is cold, and 
 dark, and our habitation is in the midst of 
 dreariness and gloom, into which we may be 
 driven by our falling structures, and feel our- 
 selves to be, what we really are, orphan wan- 
 
88 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 derers through 'ii gloom, pierced by no star.' 
 The heathen poet said, two thousand years ago, 
 'We are also his offspring,' and the apostle of 
 the Gentiles endorsed the sentiment. But ah ! 
 there lies the saddest element in our melan- 
 choly condition. If we had not been the 
 handiwork of God, and his subjects by crea- 
 tion, we could never bear about with us His 
 wrath. We would never feel working in us 
 that repellant power, born of rebellion, and 
 compounded of hatred and fear. Had not the 
 light of a Father's love shone upon the dawn 
 of our race, as the first happy pair came pure 
 from the hands of their Maker, we would never 
 have known the meaning, the fearful meaning, 
 of our present desolation. Conscious of guilt, 
 and pursued for ever by the voice of justice, 
 crying, 'Pay me that thou owest,' no wonder 
 we fly as far as possible from that purity and 
 holiness which we can never satisfy, and, by an 
 easy transition, from fearing we pass to hatred. 
 Truly we are worse than orphans; worse than 
 the spawn of the wandering beggar, for we are 
 the outcasts of a palace, miserable exiles from 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 89 
 
 a paradise; princes of a magnificent domain, 
 sold into bondage; bright-eyed sons of the 
 morning groping in blindness and agony 
 through the cheerless night. Sun-kissed 
 dwellers among vine-clad hills, we are sur- 
 rounded with the bleak snows of an eternal 
 winter. O, we are the fallen turrets of a mag- 
 nificent structure, upon every stone of which 
 is written, ruin, desolation, and decay! And 
 worst of all, the sword hangs over us; not only 
 to prevent our restoration, but it goes on hew- 
 ing to pieces the fallen fragments, and pursu- 
 ing them to the four winds ! O, what a terri- 
 ble sword it is! It never but once found an 
 object on which it could full flesh its trenchant 
 edge. 
 
 "May 23.— 
 
 ! why should human love and hope 
 
 But blossom into grief? 
 Help, Father! In this maze I grope, 
 
 And tears are my relief. 
 But bleed my heart: I need the paiu, 
 
 To purge the dross away. 
 So sorrows brighten future gain, 
 
 As night adorns the day. 
 
 8* 
 
90 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 " There are but few things in the world that 
 seem to me really proper subjects for sadness 
 There are times, it is true, when my feelings are 
 depressed, and I cannot even persuade myself 
 that I have a legitimate cause. But when my 
 feelings are touched through the medium of 
 my aft'ections, I succumb at once. My sadness 
 is all the more uncontrolable, because reflec- 
 tion but increases the intensity of the coloring. 
 And unless I can persuade myself to repudiate 
 the very feelings and characteristics which 
 constitute my individuality, and become a 
 mere link in the concatenation of things, which 
 would fit as well in another place as in the one 
 I occupy, I can find no palliative." 
 
 There are a number of notes which appear 
 to be parts of his journal to which no dates 
 are prefixed. Some of these will close the 
 present chapter. Having referred to certain 
 prevailing habits and associations, in Natchez, 
 which were trials of faith, he adds : " I hope I 
 shall be able to do my simple duty, and trust 
 in God. But unless his spirit be present to aid 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 91 
 
 me with bis Divine power and guidance, I shall 
 fail. 
 
 'Guide me, Thou c^reat Jehovah, 
 Pilgrim through this barren land.' 
 
 " Heard to-day of the acquittal of G , on 
 
 trial for swindling, or rather embezzling of 
 funds to a large" amount in New Orleans. 
 Most probable his acquittal was owing to his 
 guilt; so that 'the condition trammelled up the 
 consequence,' and the man 'pardoned for part- 
 ing with a part of the oflence.' So the best 
 security of life and property can be bought 
 and sold. 'In the corrupted currents of this 
 world, offence's gilded hand may shove by jus- 
 tice, and oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself 
 buys out the law. But 'tis not so above. 
 There is no shuffling.' 
 
 " If Religion were a fable, what a fable 
 
 it would be! How philosophical in doctrine! 
 How far-sighted in precept! How philanthro- 
 pic in spirit! How noble in object! How 
 sublime in its consummation! That such a 
 scheme should spring from nothing, is more 
 incredible than that the great world, and all 
 
92 MEMOIR OP THE 
 
 that is in it, should spring from nothing. If 
 its orio;in was in the unsubstantial fliojhts of a 
 distempered fancy, then let us all turn dream- 
 ers, for no elaboration of thought, no deduc- 
 tions of reason, no painfully collated improve- 
 ments upon the experience of all the past, 
 ever have attained, or ever will approach, the 
 simple sublimity, and profound and undenia- 
 ble wisdom of its truths. 
 • "The wisest among the heathen were bewil- 
 dered and amazed with what they saw around 
 them. But they dared not advance to the 
 great solution with boldness, for it seemed a 
 thing incredible that God should raise the 
 dead. With the more humble, tradition solved 
 the mystery, and all was clear. The intellec- 
 tual Titans of the German school exhaust their 
 energies in striving to brutify and degrade 
 what the Bible has ennobled and dignified. 
 The widow in her cottage is content to believe; 
 man is honored, and God is glorified. Truly, 
 the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and 
 the weakness of God is stronger than men. 
 "I think I must be about to experience 
 
REV. JOHN' C. THOM, 93 
 
 some great good, ' for we all know that secu- 
 rity is mortal's chiefest enemy,' To me there 
 is such a sense of uneasiness, that 'over all 
 there hane^s the shadow of a fear. A sense of 
 mystery has the spirit daunted,' and says in 
 every breath, and every word, ' sorrow awaits 
 thee.' But poor Ephemeron, why swells your 
 heart with pain, or why does it leap with joy, 
 when the poor rag upon which your thoughts 
 are inscribed may far outlive your earthly 
 joys and sorrows. Strange comment upon 
 human fame, when it depends for perpetuation 
 upon material so feeble and transient! So in 
 a sense, the sacred poet did not anticipate. 
 Man is crushed before the moth. When a 
 hundred years have rolled away, where shall I 
 be, and where shall be my memory? In the 
 mighty past it will glimmer faintly, or per- 
 haps it may have ceased even to glimmer. 
 And yet my appetite for immortality is insa- 
 tiable. ' It must be. Cato, thou reasonest 
 well.' And after all, what a melancholy thing 
 is human greatness, purchased, as it must be, 
 either by the corrosion of one's own spirit, by 
 
94 MEMOIR OF TPIE 
 
 the energy of internal fire that hums, and 
 barns, until the poor wretch is consumed by 
 his own vitality, or by the groans of other 
 victims, sacrified on the altar of his ambition. 
 'There is no release in that war.' There is no 
 greatness without suffering. From the grave 
 of a suicide, Hugh Miller speaks, O, so elo- 
 quently! of the madness of it all. The un- 
 tiring energy and dauntless perseverance that 
 grappled with every difficulty, and manfully 
 wound his way up to the summit of his ambi- 
 tion, then grew dizzy and reeled; half recov- 
 ered, — the deadly weapon is in his hand; a 
 spasm, and all is over. How are the mighty 
 fallen!" 
 
 Writing, in the early spring, of birds, and 
 flowers, and fruits, of fig and orange blossoms, 
 he says: "Such things as these tell me that I 
 am a wanderer. But I read it everywhere, 
 from my own heart to the very stars I gazed 
 upon under a more inhospitable sky. Even 
 the heavens here are strange. The Great Bear 
 hides himself during part of the night below 
 the horizon, while the ship of Argos comes up 
 
REV. JOHN" C. TIIOM. 95 
 
 in the south, and stares at me with its great 
 eyes, as if to tell me that I am a stranger. 
 
 "Last Sabbath, Ecv. Dr. Stratton took the 
 position, that ambition is the most powerful 
 passion in the human breast. It may be so; 
 and there are reasons why our intellectual and 
 immortal being should be more likely to yield 
 to the influence of ambition than to any other 
 passion. But the objects of ambition are as 
 various as its empire is large. From Boling- 
 broke's gross desire to be preeminent in dissi- 
 pation and sensuality, to the sacred ambition of 
 excelling in goodness, there is every shade 
 and degree. But, after all, it is selfishness, and 
 very short-sighted at that. How like apples 
 of Sodom are its rewards and its crowns. 
 'What are ye now but thorns about my bleed- 
 ing brow,' is the feelino- of its most successful 
 devotees. 
 
 ' Small have continual plodders ever won 
 Save base authority from others books. — Shakspeare. 
 
 * Much study is a weariness of the flesh. — Bible. 
 
 Now, I do not repudiate all study. I think 
 a 'soul without reflection, like a pile without 
 
yo MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 inhabitant, to ruin runs.' But why should we 
 waste our hours in loading our memories with 
 the fancies of other men, while mines of une- 
 laboratcd thought lie neglected in our own 
 souls? Simply for one reason. It is easier to 
 read than to think; to remember than to re- 
 flect; to appropriate than to originate. Our 
 literary pampering has done for our minds 
 what our more luxuriant mode of life is doinoj 
 for our bodies: refined, and made more ele- 
 gant perhaps; but where are the giant frames, 
 and iron muscles of our hardy sires? We read 
 the lofty soarings of Milton, and the infinite 
 variations of the versatile Shakspeare, the 
 wonderful inductions of Bacon, and the far- 
 reaching analysis of Newton, but instead of 
 rousing ourselves to emulate their fame, we 
 say, truly, 'there were giants in those days.' 
 We are growing refined and sentimental, or 
 skeptical and metaphysical ; and instead of 
 elaborating the important problems of ethics 
 and physics, which are yet unsolved, we take 
 to 'splitting hairs 'twixt south and south-west 
 side,' anl think we are profound because we are 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 97 
 
 unintelligible. But, I suppose if I were in the 
 olden time, forecasting the future, I would 
 pine for the refinement and books of the 
 nineteenth century. 
 
 "Heard Dr. Palmer on the text: 
 
 'How is my soul troubled.' If his bodily 
 presence is weak, his speech is by no means 
 contemptible. Although his declamatory 
 power is by no means so high as estimated by 
 some, he has a great deal of nervous physical 
 power, and his style of thought is strong and 
 remarkably clear, so that the whole discourse 
 seems impressed on the mind as a unity, over 
 which you can look, and recall almost every 
 idea. After introducing his subject by a 
 description of the sorrows to which man is 
 heir in life, from the cradle to the grave, he 
 remarked, that the Man of Sorrows was pre- 
 eminently experienced in them all. He then 
 went on to enumerate the different elements 
 in His sufferings at the time he gave utter- 
 ance to the words of the text. They were: 
 First, An overwhelming sense of His respon- 
 sibilities. Second, Instinctive and human 
 9 
 
98 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 horroT at the sense of approaching death. 
 Third, The contact, and burden of sin that 
 was laid upon Him — all viewed as an indica- 
 tion of the love of God, and as a vindication of 
 the sovereignty of His attributes." 
 
 Speaking of the excitement of election days 
 in Natchez, he writes: "I looked at the ban- 
 ners streaming — the fire blazing — the torches 
 sparkling — the fire-balls, red, white, and blue, 
 exploding hundreds of feet high in the air — 
 the balloons ascending and floating away to 
 the north — the motley crowd, black, brown, 
 and white, swaying under the influence of 
 intense excitement around the speaker's stand, 
 till wearied, and sick at heart, with all the 
 glitter and glare of false patriotism, and real 
 duplicity, I withdrew from the crowd, and 
 wended my way home. 
 
 "It is a glorious night. Old Orion, the 
 Pleiades, and Ilyades, Procyon, and Capella, 
 look down like holy things on a sinful world; 
 so calm, so beautiful. I thought of the glory 
 and beauty of God's House. I thought too of 
 the dear friends who had watched the same 
 
KEV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 99 
 
 stars with me under a more inclement sky. 
 O, my quiet home! To-day we heard of tbe 
 Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the 
 world; to-morrow we commemorate His death. 
 Strange medley! At these times my thoughts 
 revert, 0, how tenderly! to the home of my 
 childhood, and I feel strengthened by the 
 assurance, that for me prayers continually 
 ascend, in the earnestness of true devotion, to 
 the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth." 
 
 Now he takes his last survey of the natural 
 beauties which he is about to leave, and then 
 remarks: "If it were not for sin, what a 
 beautiful world this would be, and what a 
 beautiful thing life would be! But that 
 poisons every cup, and embitters every joy. 
 Suspicion and treachery, mistrust and deceit, 
 grow alike on that fatal tree. O, God, when 
 will the curse have an end!" 
 
 From the pleasant scenes and associations 
 of the sunny south, he turned away, never to 
 return, his thoughts elevated to that world 
 where the broken chain of human affection 
 will be reunited, and the sad word "farewell" 
 will never be spoken. 
 
100 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 STUDENT IN' THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARV. 
 
 Soon after leaving Natchez, Mr. Thorn en- 
 tered the Theological Seminary at Princeton, 
 New Jersey. He conscientiously conformed 
 to all the rules of that institution, was a dili- 
 gent student, and gathered knowledge from 
 every available source. His range of theo- 
 logical reading was wide, and with several 
 Latin authors he became so familiar, that he 
 could quote from them with remarkable 
 accuracy. Turretine's works were thoroughly 
 mastered, and he considered himself more 
 indebted to these for what theological attain- 
 ments he had made, than to any other human 
 production. He placed a high estimate upon 
 the advantages enjoyed in the Seminary, and 
 was ever after an enthusiastic friend of that 
 honored "school of the prophets." 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 101 
 
 Not by study only, but by the cultivation 
 of personal piety, also, he sought preparation 
 for the great work before him. He observed 
 seasons of fasting and prayer, and derived 
 much benefit from relisfious conversation with 
 
 O 
 
 a few intimate friends. To him the " Confer- 
 ence Meetings" were very profitable, and very 
 precious. In his letters he made frequent 
 reference to these. He learned much of Jesus 
 and much of himself in those "family gather- 
 ings;" the professors addressing the students 
 with the tenderness of parental love, dwelling 
 in simple, earnest utterances on the great 
 themes of Christian experience, the fulness of 
 Christ, and duty to the Master. 
 
 Very little occurs in a student's life to dis- 
 turb the "even tenor of his way," and Mr. 
 Thom adhered so closely to the routine of 
 Seminary duty, that to record the labors of a 
 week, would be to present a miniature photo- 
 graph of his entire course. The remainder of 
 the chapter will be chiefly occupied with 
 letters, which reveal the fervor of his piety, 
 and his healthful growth in the Divine life. 
 9* 
 
102 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 On a day set apart for fasting and prayer, he 
 writes to a friend: "I am endeavoring to 
 approach the throne of grace in my own 
 behalf to-day, that God would fit me for the 
 work of the ministry. I wish you could 
 unite in concert with me; but it is now too 
 late for that. O, I need, so much, more grace, 
 and devotion, and love! I know, my friend, 
 that you pray for me, but I am afraid that, 
 well as you know me, you think me much 
 better than I am, and so cannot really adapt 
 your prayers to my case. I am very sinful. 
 God only knows, and He only can remedy, 
 my wickedness. O, pray continually all these 
 weeks, and months, and years, that I may be 
 more and more furnished for every good 
 work. I am every day more and more im- 
 pressed with the feeling that mere human 
 strength can never avail me anything. 'AH 
 my strength must come from God.' ... It is a 
 reflection of no ordinary solemnity, that I sit 
 daily in the halls where Alexander and Miller 
 taught, and live in the rooms whose walls 
 have been hallowed by the prayers of Walter 
 
KEV. JOHN C. THOM. 103 
 
 Lowrie and kindred spirits, who have gone to 
 their reward. 0! that the same Spirit which 
 breathed upon them, might be infused into me, 
 making me a 'temple of God.' ... I have just 
 returned from prayer-meeting, a precious and 
 solemn meeting." 
 
 A college acquaintance had entered the 
 ministry before him, and was laboring with 
 much success in one of the western States. 
 Intelligence was received, by a fellow-student, 
 of a precious work of grace in progress in the 
 young pastor's charge. With Mr. Thom it 
 was a time of thanksgiving. "Blessed be His 
 holy name." He thus writes to a dear friend : 
 "You of course have heard of the revival at 
 
 M . A friend here has just received a 
 
 letter from Mr. B , giving an account of it. 
 
 On coming to the church on Sabbath, he 
 could scarcely enter, because of the crowd at 
 the door. When he had gained admittance to 
 the church, he found the aisles, pulpit-stairs, 
 and even the pulpit, full of people, and a most 
 powerful work seemed going on — some fifty, 
 at that date, inquiring the way to Ziou. O, 
 
104 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 what a day seems dawning! In our prayer- 
 meeting for Colleges, this morning, three were 
 reported as being greatly blessed. Every 
 paper brings good tidings, and our hearts 
 seem to be responding, I felt a good deal 
 encouraged this morning, and then at noon, 
 
 when I heard of the revival at M my 
 
 heart was melted. . . . Let us, though separated, 
 daily pray that God's kingdom may come. 
 Pray for me, that in due time utterance may 
 be given me to preach the infinite love of God. 
 I feel, more and more, that all my sufficiency 
 is of God, as all the glory must be His. 
 
 "Monday morning. AVe had a most inter- 
 esting conference yesterday, on the constraining 
 love of Christ. I wish I could tell it all to you. 
 But I hope you know better from your own 
 heart than any one could tell you, what the 
 love of Christ is. It passeth knowledge." 
 
 Soon after, he was rejoiced to hear of a pre- 
 cious revival at Canonsburg. The students in 
 the Seminary, who were graduates of Jefferson 
 College, met every Sabbath morning to pray 
 for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on that 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 105 
 
 institution. Some time in March, 1857, Mr. 
 Thom received cheering news from his Alma 
 Mater, and rising in the night, lie wrote in 
 thankful strains concerning the Lord's doing, 
 which was marvellous in his eyes. "It is half 
 past 3 o'clock, A. M., but I cannot sleep 
 with your letter before me. What glad tidings 
 of great joy it contains ! My poor, weak faith, 
 was not prepared for such intelligence. Your 
 previous letter contained an account of the 
 communion services, and no unusual interest 
 then. This is a critical and most interesting 
 time. O, for a spipit of prayer ! 0, for a revi- 
 val of God's work in our own hearts, and sucli 
 a revival that we shall never grow cold again ! 
 How I wish we could meet and mingle our 
 prayers, for God does often make use of human 
 sympathy to warm the fire of sacred, divine 
 love. My only hope is, that He who was 
 touched with a feeling of our infirmities will 
 pity my weakness. God be merciful to us, and 
 bless us, and cause His face to shine upon us. 
 I trust my heart is a little revived, but my 
 coldness is more apparent than before. Like 
 
106 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 one coining from the cold air to a heated 
 atmosphere, I am becoming sensible tliat I was 
 
 much chilled. O, pray much for me I 
 
 have been to Trenton, to hear Everett. At 
 another time I would have had much to tell 
 you. Now I am thinking of something 
 greater than Everett, and better than Wash- 
 ino-ton." 
 
 To one who "walked in darkness, and saw 
 no light," he addressed wise counsel in a let- 
 ter from which the following extract is taken : 
 "You know, dear friend, as well as I do, the 
 sources of spiritual happiness. But, may it not 
 be, we both sometimes forget what God has 
 done for us? It is true there is much, very 
 much, yet to be done. But if he has done that 
 which is greatest, shall we not thank God, and 
 take courage? Instead of repining because 
 all our sins are not overcome, let us adore that 
 love that spared not the Son of God, and when 
 we are cast down, let us look at ourselves only 
 enough to feel we need a Saviour, and then fly 
 
 to Him There is one thing more which 
 
 I know tends to keep mc away from Christ, 
 
EEV. JOTIN C. TIIOM. 107 
 
 and perhaps more tlian anything else ; that is, 
 resting on the fact tliat He died for sinners, 
 without clearly feeling that He died for me. 
 And yet that is the very essence of faith. O, 
 if we could see Jesus offering Himself for us, 
 surely our faith would work by love." 
 
 Writing to another, he says: "The great 
 subject now is the grand celebration in New 
 York, in honor of the laying of the Atlantic 
 Cable, the largest meeting ever held, I suppose, 
 on the American continent, and a larger one 
 than would be allowed on the greater part of 
 the old one. The only way I have heard the 
 people estimated, is by the acre, and miles. 
 Broadway, for nearly, or quite four miles, was 
 one almost impenetrable mass, the crowd sway- 
 ing back and forth, hour after hour. O, if the 
 cable is worth so much, ichat should he done for 
 
 one soul! Had a long letter from L. C, 
 
 who thinks my greatest temptation is to pride. 
 Perhaps it is. God forbid that I should glory 
 in anything save in the cross of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and through it may the word be cruci- 
 fied to me, and I unto the world." 
 
108 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 Whilst at Princeton, Mr. Thorn made direct 
 efforts for the conversion of sinners around 
 him. He taught in a Sabbath-school, and 
 occasionally conducted a service for the colored 
 people. He also visited neglected places in 
 the vicinity of Princeton, and sought opportu- 
 nities of addressing perishing souls on the sub- 
 ject of personal religion. 
 
 Speaking to one, of his earnest desire to have 
 his armor on, and all his energies directly 
 given to the work of the ministry, he said, "It 
 is a consummation I devoutly wish, and yet I 
 shrink back from it. I can scarcely analyze 
 my feelings. But I feel it is a dreadful thing 
 to stand between the living and the dead. If 
 it be shrinking from duty, may God forgive 
 me: if a true sense of my unworthiness, may 
 He grant me more grace and faith." 
 
 At another time, writing to a friend, he 
 regretfully refers to causes which had kept 
 him back from his profession. He could 
 scarcely keep from repining at a destiny which 
 had robbed him of his youth, and burdened 
 his manhood with an almost crushing load of 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. ' 109 
 
 care. But he endeavored to calm his mind by 
 the reflection that God does all things well, 
 and that all his trials would be blessed to his 
 greater fitness for the ministry. And it is no 
 doubt a fact, that those four years of labor as a 
 teacher, were not only 3^ears of usefulness, but 
 did go far to develope those traits of character 
 which made him eminent as a pastor, and suc- 
 cessful as a preacher. 
 
 Whilst engaged in teaching, he anticipated 
 some of the studies of tlie theological course, 
 and remained in the Seminary only two years. 
 During the holiday- vacation of the second 
 session, in January, 1859, he was licensed to 
 preach the gospel by the Presbytery of Salts- 
 burg, at Leechburg, Pennsylvania. His extra- 
 ordinary endowments of every kind for minis- 
 terial efl&ciency, and his remarkable pulpit 
 power, early developed, and so highly matured, 
 were not matters of surprise to the members of 
 Presbytery who had known him intimately 
 for years. All predicted for the young licen- 
 tiate a ministry of great usefulness. After 
 licensure he returned to the Seminary, and 
 10 
 
110 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 devoted himself with increased earnestness to 
 stud}^, during the remainder of the session. To 
 a friend, who urged him to take a season of 
 recreation, fearing the results of the close 
 application to Seminary duties, he said, " I 
 look for no rest this side of the grave." 
 Before the close of the session he received 
 several calls to vacant churches. One, to a 
 southern state, presented special inducements 
 in the way of worldly comfort, but he felt con- 
 strained to decline it, feeling that there were 
 other fields of labor where he was more needed, 
 and might be more useful. He was also in- 
 vited to take a prominent charge in the west, 
 and this he felt strongly inclined to accept. 
 At one time he had seriously considered the 
 question of going to a foreign field, but he pre- 
 sently found insuperable barriers in the way, 
 and yielded to the force of what were then 
 very sad and trying providences. And now 
 that he must labor in some part of his own 
 country, he preferred a missionary field in the 
 west. He would plant the standard of the 
 cross on the borders of the wilderness, and aid 
 
REV. JOfIN C. THOM. Ill 
 
 the worn and weary men who toiled for Jesus 
 in regions " near the sunset." 
 
 Then came an urgent call from the church 
 at Waynesburg, Pennsylvania. At first he 
 entertained scarcely a thought of accepting it. 
 Not that he was unwilling to cross the deep 
 yearnings of his heart to go to a far differ- 
 ent field, but he was not satisfied that the 
 Head of the Church would have him occupy a 
 position which so many others were willing to 
 fill, whilst there were destitutions where the 
 call for ministerial labor seemed so much 
 louder. He submitted the matter to the Lord, 
 and waited further revelations of the Master's 
 will. At length the indications of Providence 
 pointed clearly to Waynesburg. All anxious 
 questionings as to duty were answered, and 
 before he left the Seminary he announced his 
 acceptance of the call, so unexpectedly and 
 earnestly pressed upon him. "The steps of a 
 good man are ordered by the Lord : and he 
 delighteth in his way." 
 
 In this connection we introduce a letter, writ- 
 ten by Eev. Eobert Strong, of Albany, N. Y., 
 
112 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 an intimate friend of our deceased brother. 
 Mr. Strong was, for a short time, pastor of the 
 Westminster Presbyterian Church in Minne- 
 apolis, Minnesota. This statement will explain 
 the latter part of his letter. 
 
 "Mr. Thom entered the Seminary at Prince- 
 ton at the same time I entered, in 1857. I was 
 early attracted to him by his friendliness and 
 kindliness, and as our acquaintance deepened 
 with familiar intercourse, I prized his friend- 
 ship more and more. He was one of the sub- 
 stantial men of the class, above the average in 
 abilities, and far above in mature disciplined 
 Christian character. After he had graduated 
 at College, (Jefierson, I think,) he spent sev- 
 eral years in teaching, not with a view of 
 delaying his entrance into the ministry, nor as 
 a partial preparation to it, but with the sole 
 view, as I understood him, of enabling him to 
 pass through the Seminary independently, 
 unaided either by loans or by grants from the 
 Board of Education, He could not submit 
 himself to dependence or to charity. We had 
 many a friendly debate together as to whether 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 113 
 
 such a course is generally right, and whether 
 men who have given themselves wholly to the 
 Church of God, ought not to thankfully receive 
 every aid that will hasten the period of active 
 usefulness, or enlarge it. If he made a mistake 
 here, it was the mistake of a strong character ; 
 not underrating the loving provision of the 
 Church, but despising a mean or unnecessary 
 dependence upon it. I do not think it was a 
 pride to be condemned, for it partook of the 
 spirit which led St. Paul to labor with his own 
 hands, 'that he might not be chargeable ^to 
 any,' though at the same time counting him- 
 self a 'servant for Jesus' sake.' 
 
 " Having this spirit, the years spent in teach- 
 ing did not in the least lessen his earnest look 
 toward the ministry. He made them as truly 
 years of preparation as if they had been spent 
 in the Seminary, pursuing the same studies 
 and courses of reading, and looking as directly 
 to the end. The result was, that he entered 
 the Seminary in 1857, with his earnestness and 
 resolution tested by the delay he had enforced 
 on himself, able to sustain himself unaided, 
 10* 
 
114 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 with superior preparation, direct purpose, and 
 a character trained and strong. 
 
 " I do not think Mr. Thorn was fully appre- 
 ciated in the Seminary. His standard was too 
 high for many, his honest nature revolted at 
 anything like meanness or false shame, and he 
 was often pained by low estimates of the sacred 
 ministry, and of full consecration to Christ. 
 He was not solitary, nor in tlie least censorious, 
 but, on the contrary, kind, sympathetic, and 
 genial, in a marked degree, yet he walked and 
 thought above the mass. Those only could 
 appreciate him whom he specially liked, and 
 to whom he would unfold himself. I spent 
 many evenings with him in his room, in long 
 conversations and reading, and it was there I 
 found him out, manly, strong-hearted, proud 
 to a fault, warm-hearted, gentle as a woman, 
 with a mind well stored and well trained, earn- 
 est in devotion, and a real lover of the Saviour. 
 I saw then that he had great capabilities as a 
 preacher, a ready utterance, power and warmth. 
 In his Seminary exercises he evidently re- 
 pressed his warmth, as if unduly careful to be 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 115 
 
 right in what he said. But the glow of a 
 warm heart was not to be concealed, and it 
 must have been the source of his power after- 
 wards. 
 
 "After we both left the Seminary, our cor- 
 respondence was interrupted by niuiual cares. 
 I much regret now that, on account of frequent 
 removals, ray letters of those days have been 
 all destroyed. The last time I heard from him 
 was in 1863, in response to an invitation to 
 take charge of, and oversee, our mission work 
 in Minnesota, as Synodical Missionary. He 
 replied, that he would like to come west, and 
 that he thought such a position would meet all 
 his desires, but that the circumstances of his 
 church at Waynesburg would not permit his 
 leaving at that time. He promised, however, 
 to take it into more mature and prayerful con- 
 sideration. We were much disappointed when 
 he wrote again, that, though his desires were 
 with us, the way was not clear. Had he been 
 able to come, he would have left his mark on 
 the state and on all our churches. 
 
 "His sudden death, after his removal to St. 
 
116 MEMOIR OK THE 
 
 Louis, was a great loss to our Church in the 
 west, greater even than it was generally 
 counted. Only those that knew him best, 
 could appreciate the work he was fitted to do. 
 "We can only console ourselves with the old 
 comfort, old but never worn, that God loves 
 the Church and souls better than we do, and 
 His servants and children can trust Him." 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 117 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LAHORS AT WAYXESBURG, rEXNSYLVANIA. 
 
 Leaving the Seminary, he went at once to the 
 field of labor to which he had been called, and 
 at a meeting of the Donegal Presbytery, held 
 at Waynesburg, May 19, 1859, he was re- 
 ceived, ordained, and installed pastor of the 
 Waynesburg Church. That was to him a day 
 of solemn interest; a day of thanksgiving to 
 Christ Jesus our Lord, who had enabled him, 
 for that he counted him faithful, putting him 
 into the ministry. At the same time he was 
 oppressed with a sense of fearful responsibility. 
 Who is sufficient for these things? Surely, 
 he said, "Except the Lord build the house, 
 they labor in vain that build it. Except the 
 Lord keep the city, the watchman waketb but 
 in vain," What shall be the results of the 
 relation just formed? How man}'- souls shall 
 be saved through his agency ? or lost through 
 
118 MEMOIK OF THE 
 
 his unfaithfulness? He invokes a fresh bap- 
 tism of the Holy Spirit, puts on his armor, and 
 trusting in Jesus only, he goes forth to the 
 work of faith and labor of love. 
 
 He first took a survey of the field he was 
 to cultivate, and endeavored to make himself 
 acquainted with the spiritual condition of the 
 church, that he might adapt himself to the 
 necessities of the people, and wisely mature 
 his plans of operation. The congregation 
 extended over a territory of ten square miles. 
 Pastoral visiting claims attention. The labor 
 will be great and exhausting, but the necessity 
 is absolute, and he entered upon it. One of 
 his people wrote, "Our minister has a will and 
 resolution which yield to nothing short of 
 impossibilities." 
 
 He soon came to know all the families of 
 his widely extended charge; could call nearly 
 every child by name, and learned something 
 of the religious history of the majority of his 
 people. "Well do I remember," wrote a good 
 woman, "his first visit to my home. His 
 great care seemed to be for our spiritual 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 119 
 
 interests. I had two little children : he took 
 each of them by tlie hand, and told them of 
 Jesus, who said, 'Suffer little children to come 
 unto me.' He then led us all to the mercy- 
 seat, and commended us to the care of our 
 covenant-keeping God. How it bound us to 
 him ! The burden of his prayers always was 
 for the salvation of souls, and his solemn, 
 earnest manner, could scarcely fail to impress 
 the heart of an unconverted person." 
 
 It was not a matter of surprise that strong 
 bonds of sympathy and affection soon united 
 the pastor and his flock. He early wrote of 
 his love to his church, and was thankful for 
 evidences of healthful piety in many house- 
 holds. "They are so kind and considerate, 
 and above all, they seem to have the spirit of 
 prayer, and consecration to Jesus." But in 
 some households there was no recognition of 
 God in family prayer, and some who had run 
 well had been hindered. There was not a 
 little to distress, if not to discourage, the 
 ardent pastor. But it was a time for work; 
 faithful, earnest, affectionate work, — and he 
 
120 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 set about it. The spiritual diagnosis sug- 
 gested the remedies. lie soon established 
 four weekly prayer-meetings in difi'erent parts 
 of the congregation, attending them alternately 
 two evenings of each week, and secured elders, 
 or other members of the church, to conduct 
 the services on the evenings of his absence. 
 In addition to these, he had the regular 
 prayer-meeting in the church, which was 
 attended by the families residing in, and near 
 the village. At the several points in the 
 country, to which we have referred, he also 
 held afternoon services on the Sabbath, and 
 thus he carried the gospel to many families 
 who had previously lived without it. He also 
 taught a Bible-class, which met in the church 
 before the Sabbath morning service. He 
 devoted much time to his preparations, and 
 the instruction imparted on these occasions 
 were blessed to not a few. He was a patient 
 teacher, and condescended to the capacities of 
 the humblest; going over the oft repeated 
 lesson, sweetly pressing Jesus on the accept- 
 ance of the young, and solemnly warning them 
 
REV. JOHN 0, THOM. 121 
 
 of the consequences of unbelief. lie was wont 
 to say: "The word of God will not return 
 unto Him void, and He who gave you this 
 glorious gospel will be glorified, whether you 
 reject or receive His gracious message." 
 
 The Sabbath- schools were frequently visited, 
 and he usually addressed the children in 
 loving, earnest words. A number of family 
 altars were erected through his efforts. He 
 assisted some of the young married members, 
 by going to their houses soon after they 
 entered them, and kindling the fire upon their 
 altar, urging them, "so affectionately and 
 earnestly," never to let that fire go out. It 
 grieved him to learn that in some cases his 
 efforts in behalf of fiimily religion were 
 attended with but very little fruit. 
 
 Parental responsibility was pressed home 
 with great solemnity. One said, "I used to 
 feel under his preaching that it was a fearful 
 thing to be a parent." To a burdened mother, 
 who had been much affected by his teachings 
 on the subject of the religious training of 
 children, he said: "To feel our own insuffi- 
 11 
 
122 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 ciency for these things, brings us close to the 
 cross, and surely if you can trust Jesus with 
 your own salvation, you can trust him with 
 the salvation of the children He has given 
 you. Do your duty, and remind God of His 
 covenant." 
 
 The first months of his ministry were 
 marked by a special reviving in the church. 
 He lifted the standard of piety high, dealt 
 faithfully with those who lived in neglect of 
 Christian duties, and were sadly conformed to 
 the world. One who heard him preach for 
 the first time, probably six months after his 
 settlement, thought there was too much 
 severity in his preaching, and ventured to 
 suggest a change, at the same time referring 
 
 to the wonderful power of Dr. P , who 
 
 was accustomed to give much prominence to 
 the gentleness of Jesus, and the sweet attrac- 
 tions of the cross. Mr. Thom replied, that he 
 had discovered many in his church who were 
 wrapped in a mantle of self-satisfiiction, and 
 their estimate of themselves, he said, njust be 
 corrected. They answered to the description 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 123 
 
 given of the Laodicean church, and it was not 
 the time to preach pleasant things, however 
 much he and others might enjoy the presenta- 
 tion of tlie precious things of God. The 
 sequel proved that he was right. There was 
 much searching of heart, conviction of worldli- 
 ness, repentance of sin, and some turned unto 
 the Lord, who had been content with a mere 
 name to live. " We had got to think," said 
 one, who had long been a member of the 
 church, "that it was an easy thing to get to 
 heaven." They had lost sight of the Saviour's 
 declaration: "If any man will be my disciple, 
 let him deny himself, and take up his cross, 
 and follow me." Now thoy begin to realize 
 that without cross-bearing, there can be no 
 crown- wearing. Said a good elder, "Mr. 
 Thom's people cannot listen long to his 
 preaching without being able to determine 
 whether they are Christians or not." And 
 tlien many were heard asking, with much 
 anxiety of mind, 
 
 " Do I love the Lord or no. 
 Am I His. or am I not?" 
 
124 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 Soon after, there were indications of great 
 seriousness among non-professors. The meet- 
 ings for preaching and prayer were multi- 
 plied, and protracted as long as the interest 
 seemed to warrant. At this time a considera- 
 ble number expressed hope in Christ. The 
 communion service was delayed for a season 
 that these persons might have time for self- 
 examination, and about forty-five persons were 
 added unto the church, of such, we trust, as 
 shall be saved. Some of these were heads of 
 families. Parents came with their children, 
 and were baptized together. Young men con- 
 secrated themselves to Christ, and proved val- 
 uable accessions to the church. Thus God 
 early set the seal of his approbation upon the 
 pastor's labors, and new ties were formed, 
 binding preacher and people in Christian 
 love and effort, — ties which grew continually 
 stronger. 
 
 A few cases of interest in connection with 
 this revival may be mentioned. There was 
 one who attended the services in the church, 
 and seemed to be under religious impressions; 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 125 
 
 a quiet, useful citizen, subdued by affliction, 
 and respected by all. The sympathies of the 
 pastor were drawn toward this man, and he 
 sought opportunities of manifesting his inte- 
 rest in his spiritual welfare. One week-day, 
 on his way to the church, Mr. Thorn overtook 
 this man, who was carrying several packages. 
 He proposed to relieve him of a part of his load. 
 The man thanked him for his kind offer, and 
 added, that he needed help to bear far heavier 
 burdens than those in his hands. Then, after 
 a very sad conversation, he handed the minis- 
 ter a letter, which, he said, he had prepared for 
 him. Mr. Thorn took it home, and wept and 
 prayed over it. Never, perhaps, was his soul 
 so stirred within him as then, and for days 
 together the sad wail which was the burden of 
 the letter was sounding in his ears: "No man 
 careth for my soul." That man had lived out 
 more than half the period allotted to human 
 life. He had associated with professing Chris- 
 tians for many years, had attended frequently, 
 if not regularly, upon the public services of 
 the church, and yet had never been addressed 
 11^ 
 
126 MEMOIR ..'F THE 
 
 on the su'oject of personal religion. Sucli 
 cases are doubtless exceptional, and there may 
 have been something peculiar in this man's 
 history, but this instance of unfaithfulness on 
 the part of God's people was startling and 
 humiliating. "Let him that heareth say, 
 Come." 
 
 A lady of intelligence, high social position, 
 and much influence in the community, was 
 brought to feel her need of Christ. She was 
 urged to believe in the Lord Jesus at once. 
 She did not disguise the exercises of her mind, 
 which disclosed a most critical condition. Her 
 pastor was deeply concerned and anxious. At 
 length she yielded to King Jesus, and her con- 
 secration was entire. Henceforth her home, 
 like that of the holy family in Bethany, was 
 ever open to the visits of the Heavenly Friend, 
 and His sweet words, "Peace be to this house," 
 brought with them light and gladness all un- 
 known before. 
 
 Another was a member of the church: per- 
 haps she had never been born again. During 
 this season of religious interest she was 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM, 127 
 
 awakened to a sense of clanger. Tier sins 
 pressed heavily upon her. She walked in 
 darkness, and saw no light. Her distress in- 
 creased, day by day. Mr. Thom was instinc- 
 tively drawn to her, learned her condition, and 
 then pointed out the way of life so plainly, 
 presented the sweet promises of the gospel so 
 clearly, that the burdened soul saw the cross, 
 hastened to it, and laid all her sins on Jesus, 
 the spotless Lamb of God. 
 
 These may be taken as representative cases. 
 There are volumes of unwritten history, which, 
 if opened to the view of the church, would 
 reveal the untiring vigilance, the patient toil, 
 the tender faithfulness of the pastor. The 
 judgment-day alone will disclose it fully. 
 
 At that time the church in Waynesburg was 
 like Gideon's fleece, bedewed Avith the gently 
 distilling grace of God, when, all around, the 
 earth was dry ; or like an oasis in the desert, 
 watered and verdant, whilst silent barren 
 sands stretched out on every hand. Again 
 there were seasons when other churches were 
 more abundantly refreshed, and the sove- 
 
128 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 reignty of God was mauifested. "Even so, 
 Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight." 
 
 In his first anniversary sermon he makes a 
 grateful record of the Lord's doing among the 
 people. Allusion was made to the labors of 
 his predecessor,* who was greatly beloved by 
 all the people, the fruits of whose labors were 
 being gathered, and the people were called 
 upon to praise the Lord, who had visited them 
 with His salvation, and made the place of His 
 feet glorious. 
 
 This year he had made nearly four hundred 
 visits for conversation and prayer, beside 
 many visits to the sick and dying. He had 
 preached and lectured over four hundred 
 times, and had spent much time with inquirers, 
 and yet lamented that he had not been able to 
 labor more. 
 
 During that year of refreshing, death had 
 been very busy in the church. The message, 
 "Prepare to meet thy God," came from nearly 
 a score of new made graves, and some of the 
 flock had gone to the greener pastures of the 
 
 » Rev. William W. Latta. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 129 
 
 Better Land. "Sweet friends!" said the 
 pastor, "we hope to meet them in heaven." 
 Then were suggested some thoughts conceru- 
 ing the sorrows of this changeful life, and the 
 eternal quiet of the skies. "As I occupy the 
 place of him who is gone, so another shall 
 soon stand in mine. I shall be forgotten, and 
 all the generations to come shall remember me 
 no more. We all must go to the land of 
 silence and forgetfulness, and others shall 
 worship in our room. But in the church 
 above, there shall be no sundering of holy, 
 happy ties. When we enter the temple on 
 high, we shall be pillars in the temple of our 
 God, and go no more out." Little, perhaps, 
 did he or they suppose, on that first anniver- 
 sary day, that so soon the pastor would be 
 taken, that pulpit occupied by another, and 
 these, his spiritual children, lamenting, "Alas, 
 my father!" 
 
 In a later anniversary sermon, he referred 
 with gratitude to the results of Christian labor, 
 to the efibrts of Sabbath-school teachers, espe- 
 cially of the female teachers, to induce ne- 
 
130 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 glected children to attend the Sabbath-school; 
 to the faithfulness of different members, young 
 men and others, who sustained prayer-meet- 
 ings, and secured the attendance of the care- 
 less; to the Christian bravery with which 
 many had taken up arms for Christ, in public 
 and in private; to the consecration of worldly 
 substance to Him who says of the gold and 
 silver, "It is mine;" and to the Christian 
 meekness with which the people had received 
 the rebukes and admonitions of their pastor, 
 administered in love, and for their good. 
 "For all these things," said he, "I am glad, 
 and I thank God for you always, making 
 mention of you continually in my prayers." 
 
 It was in the early part of his first year at 
 "Waynesburg, that one of the elders of the 
 church (J. B.) was called to his eternal rest. 
 He was constant in his attentions to the dying 
 man, who was much of the time in great dark- 
 ness, induced, doubtless, by physical causes. 
 
 Mr. B was a good man, full of the Holy 
 
 Ghost, and of faith. His life had exhibited the 
 power of Divine grace, and the beauties of 
 
UEV. JOHN C. THOM. 131 
 
 holiness, so clearly, that none who knew him 
 questioned his mcetness for heaven. It was 
 not lonsj until God brouo^ht him out of the 
 darkness, and glory beamed upon the dying 
 saint. One day, the light of heaven resting 
 on his face, he said to his pastor, as he entered 
 the death-chamber, "Have you come to rejoice 
 with me, because I have found Him whom my 
 soul loveth?" The latter sat down and wept. 
 Those w^ere tears of mingled joy and sorrow: 
 of joy, that in the experience of the beloved 
 elder the faithfulness of God was manifested, 
 since at evening time it was light: of sorrow, 
 that one so endeared to him by his beautiful 
 Christian character, and so fitted to counsel 
 and encourage the young pastor, was about to 
 be taken. The following record refers to the 
 deceased elder. "I am much exhausted with 
 fatigue and excitement. For the last few days 
 I have been seeing glory begun below. Bless 
 the Lord, my soul ! And yet I weep, for I 
 shall see his face no more.'' 
 
 About this time, June 9, 1857, the young 
 minister was married to Miss Jennie M. 
 
132 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 Bracken, of Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. They 
 were both cordially received into the family of 
 
 Mr. W. B , a brother of the deceased elder. 
 
 The generous hospitality of that home, en- 
 joyed for a year, was never forgotten. No 
 chill, like untimely September frosts, ever fell 
 upon the pastor's affection for that loved and 
 loving household. It was a pleasant reflec- 
 tion to him, that Christian kindness shall be 
 rewarded here, and in the life to come. "In- 
 asmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
 least of these, my brethren, ye have done it 
 unto me." 
 
 Mr. Thom was very attentive to the be- 
 reaved. He told his people that when they 
 were well and exempt from trials, they must 
 allow him to pass by their homes, that he 
 might devote more of his time to God's sor- 
 rowing ones. There are many who remember 
 his kind and encouraging words, addressed to 
 them in affliction. By not a few, they will 
 doubtless be heard in years to come, reaching 
 them across the intervening time, and lighten- 
 ing their burdened hearts, long after the 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 133 
 
 tongne which uttered them was silenced in 
 death. To a mother, whom he met at the door 
 of her darkened home, he said, "God loved 
 Mary, and He has taken her to Himself. 
 There is comfort in this. Then remember 
 that you have Christ still. 
 
 'He never takes away our all, 
 Himself He gives us still.' " 
 
 Then they went together to Jesus and told 
 Him all. The Lord comforted the bereaved 
 parent, and enabled her to say, " Thy will be 
 done." Very many similar instances might 
 be mentioned, for there were but few families 
 that were not called to endure like affliction. 
 
 The poor were specially bound to him. He 
 not only sympathized with them; he contri- 
 buted to their necessities. He often gave the 
 last dollar to some needy sufferer. One who 
 rode with him along a by-way, overheard 
 some children of poverty, who, ashamed of 
 their rags, endeavored to conceal themselves, 
 say, "there is the good man who gave us 
 money." He often urged kind and prompt, 
 12 
 
134 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 attentions to such, and believed no church 
 would be blessed which had none of God's 
 poor in its communion. lie induced a num- 
 ber of people who lived in humble homes, to 
 come to the house of God. Through his word 
 some believed in Christ, and are to-day 
 journeying toward everlasting habitations, or 
 have already entered them. "Blessed is he 
 that considereth the poor. The Lord will 
 deliver him in time of trouble." Psalm xli. 1. 
 (Eead James ii. 1 — 5, and Prov. xxii. 2.) 
 
 He did not confine his attentions to his own 
 people. He visited, when necessary, the poor 
 and afflicted of other churches; watching with 
 the sick, carrying some delicacy to tempt the 
 appetite, and by affectionate counsel, joined to 
 expressions of sympathy, he lifted the burden 
 from aching hearts. 
 
 Then, too, he was often called from home to 
 aid his brethren in the ministry. He preached 
 at many protracted meetings in different parts 
 of the country, and never failed to meet an 
 engagement, no matter what of self-denial it 
 might nost. Then, when his work was done. 
 
liblV. JOH.V C. THOM. 185 
 
 he hastened home, to resume, with increased 
 fidelity and earnestness, his labors among his 
 own people. 
 
 He insisted much on attention to strangers. 
 Though he had no sympathy with that selfish- 
 ness which would make everything subser- 
 vient to one's particular church, regardless of 
 the claims of others, yet he would have atten- 
 tion shown to the visitor and traveler, and a 
 cordial welcome extended to unknown persons 
 who came to his church. A young man, who 
 worshipped in another church, complained to 
 him of the want he there felt of sympathy with 
 the stranger. "It seemed to me," he said, "as 
 if everybody had chartered his own private con- 
 veyance to heaven, and looked out at me over 
 the closed door, as if to say, ' if you want to go, 
 provide a conveyance for yourself.' " One 
 reason why the large church in Waynesburg 
 was filled on almost all occasions of public 
 worship, was because of the courteous. Chris- 
 tian attention to the "stranger within their 
 gates." Many who passed that way felt that it 
 
136 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 would be well if all our cburcbes would emu- 
 late so worthy an example. 
 
 He felt, and manifested, a deep interest in 
 young men. Several are now in the ministry, 
 or in course of preparation for it, who were 
 brought to Christ through his agency, and di- 
 rected by him to that high and holy vocation. 
 .Poor young men, who struggled upward to 
 higher and broader fields of usefulness, had his 
 warm and loving sympathy. He sought them 
 out in their discouragemients, and resorted to 
 many expedients to inspire them with faith 
 and hope. Men of promise, one of whom is 
 now gone to a far-off mission field,"^ have said: 
 "For what we are, and all we hope to be, we 
 owe more to Mr. Thom, so far as human 
 agency is concerned, than to any man living, 
 and no one ever exerted upon us so great an 
 influence for good as he." His memory is pre- 
 cious to them, and through their word, he, 
 being dead, yet speaketh. 
 
 His tact for adapting himself to all people 
 and circumstances was very remarkable. The 
 
 * Rev. E. M. Wherrv. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 137 
 
 humblest and the lowliest had his tenderest 
 thoughts, and thej carried their troubles to 
 him with childlike confidence, sure of sympa- 
 thy, words of encouragement, and a helping 
 hand. At the same time he secured the esteem 
 of ministerial brethren, who were many years 
 his seniors, and occupied positions of the high- 
 est influence in the church, and his general 
 intelligence enabled him to commune with 
 almost every class of literary and professional 
 men. His versatility of talent was often re- 
 marked by men of learning and discernment, 
 and was exceeded by few of his age. 
 
 He sought opportunities of conversing with 
 the unconverted on the subject of personal 
 religion, and sowed beside all waters. He 
 made it a rule never to leave a fellow-traveler, 
 or one with whom he held an hour's conver- 
 sation at a hotel or watering-place, without 
 dropping at least a word for Christ. Only 
 eternity will reveal the results of such efforts 
 to benefit souls. When riding over the many 
 miles embraced in his parish, or going to 
 preach in some neighboring church, he would 
 12* 
 
138 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 ask the traveler along the dusty way-side to 
 take a seat beside him in his carriage, and if 
 he discovered that the stranger was without 
 God and hope in the world, he would tell him 
 of the way which led from the city of destruc- 
 tion to the Celestial City, and urge him to 
 enter it at once. 
 
 Sometimes his anxiety concerning the un- 
 converted in his congregation was so great that 
 he could not sleep. He would rise in the 
 night to pray for them, with strong cryings 
 and tears. Occasionally he awoke his wife 
 and asked her to sing him some pleasant hymn 
 to soothe him to rest. In one of his anniver- 
 sary sermons he referred to the kindness and 
 sympathy shown him by his people, sending 
 him, when prostrated by excessive labors, to the 
 sea-side, supplying the church during his ab- 
 sence at their own expense. "Your unnum- 
 bered tokens and expressions of affection are 
 not forgotten, they are laid up in my heart of 
 hearts, and I thank God always for you, re- 
 membering you in my prayers. But all this 
 does not satisfy, and cannot make me happy, 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 139 
 
 while the cause of my Redeemer makes no 
 more progress, and the slain of my people arc 
 so many." 
 
 In the same sermon he made a solemn 
 appeal to the young, and alluded to the deso- 
 lations which death had made during the year 
 that was gone. "I need not tell you of him, 
 whose lifeless body I helped, with my own 
 hacds, to raise from a distant grave, and bear 
 to the home which he had left, in the vigor of 
 his youth, but a little while before ; nor of him 
 who now sleeps far from the home of his child- 
 hood, where the magnolia spreads its broad 
 petals, and the sounding waves of a southern 
 sea sing his eternal dirge. God has been call- 
 ing you in a most solemn manner, and from 
 those new-made graves comes, in sad and 
 reproving tones, the inquiry, 'Why sit ye 
 here all the day idle?"' 
 
 Thus did he plead with sinners in the great 
 congregation. On the way-side, and in the 
 home, he urged them to be reconciled to God, 
 and when they visited him in the Manse, he 
 would seek a favorable opportimity of con- 
 
140 ilEMOIK OF THE 
 
 versing and praying witli them. Meeting a 
 young woman in the church aisle, after an 
 earnest sermon, preached by Eev. Alex. Reed, 
 on the words of Jesus, "Seek ye first the king- 
 dom of God and his righteousness," (Matt. vi. 
 33,) he addressed her in his usual kind way. 
 
 "Well, A , I trust you are seeking that 
 
 kingdom." After a pastoral visit in her home, 
 he turned to her and said, "And you, dear 
 
 A , I have been very much concerned for 
 
 you." There was a peculiar solemnity and 
 earnestness in his manner, which impressed his 
 unconverted friend. His words kept sounding 
 in her ears, day after day. She could not for- 
 get them. At length, through his loving faith- 
 fulness, she was brought to Jesus, and after 
 she had entered the kingdom, his judicious 
 counsel encouraged her fainting heart, and his 
 kind admonitions recalled her wandering affec- 
 tions. Instances of this kind might be almost 
 indefinitely multiplied. His labors were not 
 in vain in the lord. He turned many to right- 
 eousness, and now, gone to the other world, he 
 shall shine as a star, for ever and ever. 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. ' 1-il 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 THE PKEACIIER AND PASTOR. 
 
 The duty of entire consecration to Christ was 
 often urged upon his people. It is this which 
 gives to the Christian life its oneness. It con- 
 centrates all our energies on the great end of 
 being; converges all the lines of thought and 
 action, feeling and influence, upon the glory 
 of God. This consecration was urged by 
 many motives drawn from this life and the 
 next. 
 
 He pressed the importance of systematic 
 benevolence, and practised it himself. Once 
 he remarked : " You will allow me to say, that 
 I act upon my faith, and am rewarded accord- 
 ing to my faith. I have never been so happy, 
 and never felt so certain of my daily bread, as 
 since I commenced giving systematically to 
 the Lord. I know God will provide for me. 
 I have sometimes been deceived by man, but 
 
142 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 never bj God. I Lave lost some money out 
 of bank, but never any that I laid up in 
 heaven. I have notes, and bonds, and mort- 
 gages, which are valueless. But here is God's 
 ■word, signed, sealed, and delivered, upon 
 which I am ready to rest my temporal com- 
 fort, and my eternal salvation." Benevolence 
 is sure to be rewarded in this life. But the 
 great argument was drawn from the cross of 
 Christ: — "Ye are not your own, for ye are 
 bought with a price." 
 
 It was gratifying to notice the growing 
 liberality of the people. To every object of 
 Christian benevolence that was presented, con- 
 tributions were made; and as the result of the 
 faithful instructions of the pulpit, attended 
 with the Divine blessing, the church in 
 Waynesburg took its position among the 
 largest contributing churches in the Synod of 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Then, too, the people were stirred up to 
 direct and personal efforts for the salvation of 
 souls. They had failed to do their duty in 
 this respect. "You must help me," said the 
 
TIEV. JOHN C. THOM. 143 
 
 pastor, "and help me more earnestly and 
 effectually than you have done, or we cannot 
 expect to hear the Master say, 'Well done, 
 good and faithful servants.' When a com- 
 pany of men are raising a building, if nearly 
 all cease to bear their part of the burden, it 
 comes with a crushing weight upon a few. 
 My dear friends, the temple of the Lord must 
 go up. There is much work to be done. If 
 you fail to assist, it can never be accom- 
 plished. If you will do what you can, we 
 shall in due time bring forth the headstone, 
 with shoutings of 'grace, grace unto it,' " The 
 appeal had the desired effect. Much efficient 
 aid was rendered by the session of the church. 
 The elders were noble men ; full of faith, and 
 devoted to the interests of their Master's kinsr. 
 dora. Only one of these remain until the pre- 
 sent. May the blessing of Him that dwelleth 
 in the bush, be upon the head of that beloved 
 man, separated for a season from his brethren! 
 One evening the elders were called together, 
 and asked to undertake the visitation of the 
 congregation. It was proposed that a district 
 
144 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 should be assigned to eacL, and that the pastor 
 should follow. They acceded to the proposi- 
 tion without objection or hesitation. Soon 
 after, one of them called on Mr. Thom, and 
 invited him to attend a meeting they had 
 appointed for prayer, that God would prepare 
 them for their work, and aid them in it. He 
 went with a full heart. It was a precious and 
 memorable season. Minister and elders wept 
 and prayed together. They prevailed with 
 God, and it was not long until many souls 
 were brought to Jesus. The pastor was par- 
 ticularly struck with the deep seriousness 
 which he found in one of the districts, through 
 which an elder, (E. B.,) had gone before him. 
 This venerable and beloved servant of God 
 felt that this was the last public work in 
 which he would ensrao-e. The shadow of 
 death resting upon him, he spoke with much 
 solemnity and melting tenderness to all whom 
 he met. Some whom he addressed, shortly 
 after found peace in believing. In a few 
 months the godly man laid his armor off, and, 
 with the name of Jesus on his lips, sweetly 
 
UKV. J OlllSr C. THOM. 145 
 
 went to bis eternal rest. "Blessed are the 
 dead which die in the Lord!" 
 
 Mr. Thorn was a laborious pastor. His field 
 was large, and it required much time to make 
 the circuit. Be found it impracticable to 
 make many merely social visits. His atten- 
 tions to the sick were prompt and unremit- 
 ting, whilst the necessity for them continued. 
 As has already been intimated, the home of 
 affliction never waited lonsr for his cominsf. 
 He preached the gospel from house to house, 
 and under every roof he offered many and 
 earnest prayers. His forenoons were devoted 
 to study, and the remainder of the day to pas- 
 toral visitation. During the six and a half 
 years he spent in Waynesburg, there was but 
 one Sabbath on which, Avhen at home, he 
 failed to preach. That was a day of much 
 suffering and anxiety. He frequently preach- 
 ed when he was very unwell, and many felt 
 like a good mother in Israel, who said, "I 
 could not keep back the tears when I saw 
 him entering the pulpit, knowing that he had 
 come to it from a sick bed." His physician 
 
146 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 often advised him not to attend night meet- 
 ings in bad weather, assuring him tliat he 
 could not do it without positive and imme- 
 diate injury to his health. He would reply, 
 "I must work while the day lasts." This is 
 not referred to in the way of unqualified com- 
 mendation. In the judgment of his friends 
 he often acted unwisely, and shortened his 
 days. But it reveals the earnestness of the 
 man, and his readiness to endure suffering 
 for the church's sake. 
 
 A distinguished friend, who spent a season 
 in Waynesburg, says: "More than a score of 
 times I told him he was injuring himself; 
 that no human being could possibly carry 
 such a burden of labor long, and adjured him 
 to rest. Ilis reply, in substance, was: 'I 
 cannot stop. The work must be done at any 
 and all cost.' His attitude in this regard was 
 really sublime. And yet I could wish his 
 views of duty in the case had been different." 
 
 He was a diligent student. He was not 
 willing to serve God with that which cost him 
 nothino:. His morning sermons were usually 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 147 
 
 written, and always prepared with all the care 
 he could bestow upon tbcm. His afternoon 
 sermons were unwritten. He had a decidedly 
 metaphysical turn of mind, and was familiar 
 with natural science. But, as a rule, his ser- 
 mons were simple, and his illustrations were 
 drawn from familiar objects in nature, and the 
 common occurrences of life. Plain and un- 
 lettered people heard him gladly. The chil- 
 dren could understand the most that he said, 
 and some of them received the word with joy. 
 He seldom took his manuscript into the pulpit, 
 but made himself familiar with the train of 
 thought, and for language depended, to a con- 
 siderable extent, on the inspiration of the 
 moment. His style was vigorous. He aimed 
 at directness, rather than elegance, and yet his 
 sermons contained many passages that could 
 not fail to gratify the most fastidious taste. 
 
 He made a habit of reading the Scriptures 
 in the original languages, and his Latin com- 
 mentaries, with Turrettini Opera, were highly 
 prized, and frequently consulted. The Bible 
 and prayer were to him like the electrodes of a 
 
148 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 voltaic pile. They kept the currents of his 
 spiritual life in motion, and prepared him to 
 enter upon his public work with a warm heart 
 and burning zeal. He was also fond of 
 poetry ; and astronomy, cliemistry, and geo- 
 logy were favorite studies: but the word of 
 God was always placed in the foreground, and 
 through the lields of revelation he loved to 
 range during the week, returning to his people 
 on the Sabbath, bending under the precious 
 fruits gathered in the spiritual vineyards of 
 the Lord. "The Song of Songs, which is Solo- 
 mon's," was to him a delightful study. Some 
 of his sweetest and most precious sermons 
 were suggested by the Eoyal Preacher, and a 
 favorite commentary on the Song was read 
 with a delight which continually increased. 
 
 The statement has already been made, that 
 his preaching was often close and pungent. 
 He believed in conviction of sin; and such 
 doctrines as human depravity, the awful holi- 
 ness of God, and the eternal punishment of 
 the wicked, were not withheld, because dis- 
 tasteful to the carnal mind. Sometimes he 
 
KEV. JOHN C, TUOM. 14:9 
 
 gave such prominence to the terrors of the 
 Lord, that many persons were thrown into 
 great distress, and yet the outstanding charac- 
 teristic of his preaching was tenderness. Es- 
 pecially was this the case during the last years 
 of his ministry. Dr. M says: "Ilis con- 
 stant theme was Jesus; his habitual desire, the 
 salvation of souls. In addressing his hearers, 
 his sympathies would become so much enlisted, 
 that it seemed he would be willing to sacrifice 
 his own dear life, if by so doing he could 
 bring souls to Christ. And he did. He died 
 with his armor on, but being dead, he yet 
 speaks, 0, how eloquently!" 
 
 Many remember his sermon on Hebrews 
 xii. 25, "See that ye refuse not Him that 
 speaketh." He portrayed the sufferings of 
 Jesus so graphically, that the cross seemed to 
 rise to the view of the congregation, and on it 
 hung the wounded, dying Son of God. Then 
 he added, "O, see that ye refuse not Him that 
 speaketh." This was repeated in a tone which 
 thrilled his hearers. After a short pause, he 
 continued: "Look again at that victim on the 
 13- 
 
150 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 cross! Is there not a tongue in every wound, 
 pleading with a melting tenderness which 
 should move a heart of stone?" Then fol- 
 lowed a beautiful portrayal of the Saviour's 
 love to ruined men, and an appeal to hear 
 God's own and only Son, so affectionate, that, 
 for a moment, it seemed that no soul could 
 leave the house of God without an entire sur- 
 render to Jesus. The love, sympathy, faith- 
 fulness, and all-sufficient grace of Christ were 
 favorite themes. He delighted to lead his 
 people to Calvary, sit in the shadow of the 
 cross, contemplate the Lamb slain from the 
 foundation of the world, and then look far 
 above to the throne of the Lamb reigning and 
 triumphant in heaven. 
 
 His sermons abounded in illustrations. 
 Such is our mental and moral constitution, 
 that deeper and more abiding impressions are 
 made by concrete truths than by abstract 
 statements. Hence the power of Christ's incar- 
 nation, His lowly life, and sorrowful death. 
 We should never have known that God is love, 
 had not that precious truth been revealed by 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 151 
 
 God manifested in the flesh. Our Saviour in 
 His preaching adapted His style of address to 
 the minds and hearts of men, and spake to the 
 people in parables. Beautiful and impressive 
 are the pictures which the Evangelists have 
 preserved for us in the galleries of the imper- 
 ishable word. 
 
 Imitating the great Teacher, Mr, Thorn 
 employed illustrations; thus conveying truth 
 to the humblest mind, and fixing it there, as a 
 nail in a sure place. In the sermon on the 
 text already referred to, "see that ye refuse not 
 Him that speaketh," the following illustrations 
 occur. "How earnestly God calls! There is no 
 time for delay. A party of men were raising 
 a heavy building iu the west. When almost 
 up, a huge beam slipped from their pikes. It 
 poised for a moment on the timbers. All saw 
 it must fall, and there was a rush for life. But 
 one failed to move. 'See! See!' cried his 
 companions, as with white faces they pointed 
 to the danger. But in vain they shouted, and 
 shrieked the alarm. He seemed bewildered. 
 He hesitated. 'Fly! fly! fly!' they screamed. 
 
152 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 But still he tarried. The beam crashed down 
 upon him, and he was dead in a moment. So 
 hang suspended the thunderbolts of Divine 
 vengeance. Not long will judgment linger. 
 Not long will damnation slumber. God calls, 
 'See that ye refuse not Him that speaketh.' " 
 
 "God is always kind and good, but He 
 
 has addressed mankind in very different ways. 
 Once he came down on Mount Sinai. The 
 mount shook; the earth trembled. In the 
 midst of fire, and smoke, and tempest, and 
 thunder. He uttered His voice. The man of 
 God did exceedingly fear and quake, and the 
 people, terror-stricken, fell to the ground. 
 But amid all this there was no word of love. 
 
 Now look to the wilderness of Judea, 
 
 and see a Man of Sorrows, taking upon him, at 
 baptism, the burden of a broken law. See Him 
 in the desert, baring His bosom to the fiery 
 darts of Satan. Follow Him through years of 
 toil and pain, Himself bearing our sorrows and 
 receiving our stripes. Behold Him looking 
 down on the devoted city, weeping as He 
 looks. Turn your eyes to Mount Moriah. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 153 
 
 Who is that, red from the scourging, with 
 shame and spitting on Ilis brow, staggering 
 under tlie cross, meekly wending His way 
 among thieves to the place of a skull, while 
 the multitude hoot, and jeer, and scoft: Him out 
 of the world? Look again. They have 
 pierced His hands and His feet, and hung Him 
 on the accursed tree. His face is furrowed by 
 the writhings of mortal agony. The powers 
 of darkness are crowding upon Him. His 
 father's face is turned away. He utters no 
 word. But, look at Him! Was '?uch pleading 
 with sinners ever heard, as the silent pleading 
 of that pale face and mangled form? Sit down 
 at the foot of the. cross, and look at Jesus. 
 He is God's messenger to you. Will you now 
 believe?" 
 
 When urging immediate flight to the cross, 
 the only place of security for the guilty 
 and condemned, he spake as follows: "When 
 ascending the Alps, a traveler was thrown 
 from his horse. He toppled over the precipice, 
 and was dashed, a mangled corpse, upon the 
 rocks beneath. We, too, are toiling up the 
 
154 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 Alps. Wo meet with difficulties, and are 
 obliged to labor at all times. But often we 
 creep along the slippery verge of precipices of 
 ruin ; we cross the scarred and desolated track 
 of the awful avalanche of passion; our feet 
 slide on the glassy slope of glaciers of plea- 
 sure, and we tread almost unconsciously over 
 the thin, loose covering, which conceals the 
 pits and forges of temptation. It will not do 
 to close our eyes. It is madness to relax our 
 muscles. It is death to walk carelessly. Hold, 
 then! Your feet are slipping. Drive down 
 your steel-shod staff! Seize the hand of your 
 Guide! Look up, lest your head grow dizzy, 
 and you reel into the abyss! Eedeem the 
 time! Now! Now!" 
 
 Urging efforts for the salvation of others, he 
 said: "You spring from your bed at midnight, 
 and fly for your physician when you are 
 wakened by symptoms of deadly disease in one 
 of your children. The time required to bring 
 him to the side of the little sufferer seems 
 almost an age. Now, what would you think if 
 he would sit coolly down and talk of the 
 
REV. JOHN C. TnOM. 155 
 
 weather, and crops, and stocks, and trade, till 
 the crisis was past, and fatal coma ensued, 
 when all the time you knew that prompt and 
 energetic action would save your child? You 
 would stop him with almost savage earnest- 
 ness. Bring out your hot bath ! Lay on your 
 sinapism! Force open the clenched teeth, and 
 pour down the healing draught! Away with 
 your business and pleasure when life — LIFE is 
 trembling in the balance. ' Ecdeem the time.' 
 But, my dear friends, there are deadly symp- 
 toms in the dearest child of your bosom. Sin 
 is there, and shows itself in a thousand words, 
 and feelings, and acts, and it needs only time 
 to end in death. Soon the fatal stupidity will 
 come, and all your cries will fall upon their 
 ears unheard. Wake them from their slumber; 
 fly to the Great Physician, and give Him no 
 rest till He has applied the healing balm of 
 His own blood to that precious soul 1" 
 
 The following touching incident was used to 
 illustrate the love of Christ. "In one of those 
 sudden and terrible storms, which in the long 
 winter sometimes burst on northern prairies, a 
 
156 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 mother was overtaken, with her little boy, 
 miles away from home. They struggled on, 
 but the snow was blinding, and they were 
 pierced through with the pitiless cold. At 
 length the stupor of approaching death began 
 to steal upon them, but the mother's heart 
 could not be chilled. She took the covering 
 from her own bent shoulders, and wrapped it 
 about the child. Then taking him in her arms 
 she turned her back to the deadly blast, and 
 laid herself down to die. Hours after, she was 
 found by searching friends. She was dead! 
 But the child, folded in her embrace, though 
 unconscious, was yet alive. The last rays of 
 warmth from that loving heart had been 
 enough to save the boy. Was not that love 
 strong as death? But what was it to the love 
 of our Saviour, when in the storm of God's 
 wrath, and there was no room for pity, he 
 covered us with the robe of His righteousness, 
 and Himself stood exposed to the vengeance 
 which pursued Him even to death. The 
 God-man saved us at the sacrifice of his own 
 life! 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 157 
 
 ' 0, for tliia lovo let rocks and hills 
 Thoir lasting silence break !' " 
 
 In another sermon he thus discoursed on the 
 same theme. " The love of Jesus is great. He 
 says. ' As the Father hath loved me, so have I 
 loved you.' How much do you love the child 
 at your knee? Let your love be put to the 
 test, when you are drawing him to your side, 
 putting back the curls from his white brow, 
 and looking down into the depths of those 
 great eyes which are raised so wonderingly to 
 to yours. Would you not give your life for 
 his? . . . One of the most fearful conceptions 
 ever cast upon the canvas is the picture of 
 Death upon the Pale Horse, by Benjamin 
 West. The skeleton King, bestriding a fire- 
 breathing steed, is charging furiously over the 
 dying and the dead. With glaring eyes, and 
 grinding teeth, he scatters his darts on every 
 hand. Around him, war and pestilence, wild 
 beasts of the field and forest, fire, and light- 
 ning, and violence of every kind, are hasten- 
 ing on their work of destruction, and behind 
 him come his trooping legions, and with 
 14 
 
158 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 demon claw and snaky coil they throttle the 
 half-dead victims, and hurry them away to 
 their torments. But just before the monster's 
 charger sits a pale mother with her little babe, 
 in strong convulsions, upon her bosom. While 
 the father, forgetful of life, forgetful of pesti- 
 lence, forgetful of death, forgetful of hell itself, 
 thinking only of his first-born, writhing in his 
 agony, casts himself before the monster and 
 presents his own bosom to the fiery dart, or to 
 the iron heel of the pale horse, if haply he may 
 shield his child. The picture is true to life. 
 It is not overdrawn. My dear friends, this is 
 but the expression of the love of poor, imper- 
 fect, earthly beings, whose affections, as well 
 as their other faculties, have been sadly blunted 
 and degraded by the fall. It can but faintly 
 shadow forth the infinite love of the Heavenly 
 Father for his only begotten and well-beloved 
 Son. And yet that Son, aware of all liis 
 Father's affection, says, 'As my Father hath 
 loved me, so have I loved you.'" 
 
 As a declaimer, Mr. Thom had considerable 
 power. He was passionately fond of listening 
 
KEV. JOHN C. THOM. 159 
 
 to public speakers who excelled in oratory. 
 He would put himself to much inconvenience, 
 and by prodigious efforts anticipate his work, 
 that he might hear some distinguished lecturer 
 or elocutionist. Occasionally, as a pleasant 
 recreation, he would entertain students, or 
 young men of his congregation, by readings 
 from the poets ; and his rendering of stirring, 
 pathetic, and descriptive passages from Shak- 
 speare, Tennyson, Longfellow, and others, ex- 
 hibited an unusual cultivation of voice, and 
 command of the emotions. 
 
 Sometimes the orator was too prominent in 
 the delivery of the sermon. Some thought 
 him theatrical, particularly in the early part 
 of his ministry. He rarely preached with 
 much effect on his first appearance among 
 strangers. The heavenly unction was want- 
 ing, to modify and soften his manner. He 
 craved sympathy, and felt powerless without 
 the prayers of the church. He expressed this 
 in a letter addressed to one of his people from 
 Bedford: "It is not so pleasant to preach away 
 from home. Sympathy and coufidence are 
 
160 MEMOIK OF THE 
 
 wonderful helps to religious enjoyment. "We 
 need communion with one another, as well as 
 with our Saviour. So, when we are away 
 among comparative strangers, and cannot tell 
 how far they sympathize with us, it is difficult 
 to feel the same glow that we do when at our 
 own altar, and among our own brethren." 
 
 At times he was truly eloquent. Professor 
 
 W , a man of much culture and superior 
 
 literary attainments, writes: "The first sermon 
 I ever heard him preach, contained several 
 passages of great power, and one in particular, 
 which first excited my special interest in him, 
 and attracted my attention to him as a marked 
 man, involving a very fine, apposite, and strik- 
 ing image, was as bold and happy a piece of 
 rhetorical illustration as I ever heard or read." 
 Similar testimony is borne in the Presbyterial 
 Obituary: "Eloquent, simple, earnest, and 
 abundant in illustrations, he gained the atten- 
 tion of the hearer, and impressed truth and 
 duty on his heart." 
 
 He preached Christ. No matter what the 
 subject of his sermon, he always found a 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 161 
 
 natural, easy, and pleasant path to the cross. 
 All sin was viewed in the light of Calvary. 
 All duty was urged by motives drawn from 
 the death of Jesus. The weak, tempted, 
 afflicted, weary, and despondent, were directed 
 to Him whose heart is made of tenderness; 
 whose fulness can never be exhausted. So 
 closely and persistently did he adhere to the 
 precious gospel, even during those dark and 
 memorable daj'^s of our country's trial, when 
 our national life was imperilled, that some 
 questioned his loyalty to the government. 
 But on thanksgiving and fast-days, he ex- 
 pressed his views on the great questions of the 
 day with so much candor and distinctness, 
 that his patriotism could not be doubted. 
 Even then he preached Christ the Lord. He 
 drew an argument for devotion to the country 
 from the life of Jesus of Nazareth, who loved 
 His own, selected His Apostles from among 
 His own countrymen, and commanded that 
 the gospel should be preached in all the 
 world, heginning at Jerusalem. Then he 
 urged submission to the Lord, who ordaina 
 14* 
 
162 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 the powers that preside over the nation. Con- 
 tent with such expressions of sentiment on 
 these set occasions, he devoted the rest of his . 
 time to preaching the simple, essential truths 
 of religion. The sanctuary was a quiet retreat 
 from the noise and turmoil which continued 
 through the week, and on the Sabbath the 
 attention of dying men and women was di- 
 rected to the unseen world, and the kingdom 
 which endureth for ever. By this course, 
 quiet and harmony were continued in the 
 church. Whilst many other congregations 
 were distracted and rent, not a single family 
 or individual withdrew from his, and out of 
 the fiery trial the church came forth at last, 
 strong, and as united, as before the war. 
 
 In all his labors, he endeavored to keep the 
 glory of God continually in view. He had 
 conflicts, such as are common to men. Love 
 of applause, natural ambition, and self-love, 
 often troubled him. He needed to watch and 
 pray. But nothing could have induced him 
 to turn aside from the ministry, and that 
 Christ might be glorified in him and by him, 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 163 
 
 was the habitual and controling desire of his 
 life. To a mercenary minister, who once 
 made an ojEiensive proposition, he said, with 
 much feeling, and some indignation : " If this 
 day I should be offered the income I once 
 had, (as a teacher at Natchez, which was at 
 least three times greater than his salary as 
 pastor,) and all the ease it is possible to enjoy, 
 on condition that I turn aside from the service 
 of God in the ministry, I would not look at it 
 for a moment." At another time, a warm 
 personal friend, who was wealthy and ad- 
 vanced in life, wished him to take ten thou- 
 sand dollars, asking only the legal interest for 
 the same during the remainder of his life. 
 Some of his friends advised him to accept the 
 offer, but after a little consideration he de- 
 clined it: "I was afraid it was a temptation of 
 the devil." 
 
 Whilst teaching at Natchez, he accumulated 
 a considerable sum of money. The first 
 thing he did, was to return four-fold to a sister, 
 who had assisted him to secure his collegiate 
 education. He also gave to the support of 
 
164 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 his father, and the education of his younger 
 sisters. What remained, after meeting per- 
 sonal expenses, was invested in the South. 
 This was all lost during the war. Yet he 
 never murmured, and the shadow of distrust 
 in God never crossed his mind. But few 
 knew of the loss he had sustained. To an 
 intimate friend he remarked: "If our country 
 is saved, my property shall be a most cheerful 
 offering: if the government is overthrown, it 
 would have been of no use to me," To his wife 
 he said: ''I have not a doubt but that we will 
 be provided for. I have laid all on God's 
 altar, and His promise is sure." 
 
 "Writing from Atlantic City, whither he had 
 gone to recruit his health, he says: "I am now 
 much improved, and I hope I shal] get en- 
 tirely well. O, if God would be pleased to 
 make me strong again, I would be thankful. 
 There is so much I want to do for Him. I do 
 think my heart's desire and prayer to God is, 
 that His name may be glorified, and souls 
 saved through me." 
 
[liEV. JOHN C. THOM. 165 
 
 And thus, seeking submission to God's will 
 in all things, glorying only in the cross of 
 Christ, through disappointment, affliction, and 
 weariness, he held on his way, and many 
 believed on Jesus throuG;h his word. 
 
166 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 ADDITIONAL CnARACTERlSTICS. 
 
 He was a man of remarkable charity. Going 
 back to his early youth we find the following 
 in his diary. "I have been schooling myself 
 to think well of men, when it is possible, and 
 not to speak ill of any one. To a degree I 
 have succeeded: but my heart is often full of 
 bitterness. 0! meek and lowly Jesus, give 
 me of Thy Spirit!" An intimate friend in 
 later years, says, "I never heard him utter an 
 uncharitable remark." Another, who knew 
 him well, says; ''He was a man of the largest 
 charity. I never heard him express an ill feel- 
 ing or an unfriendly sentiment with reference 
 to any human being, and that although our 
 conversation often fell upon men whose views 
 and practices were diametrically opposite to 
 his own. He had no jealousies. He used to 
 recount the merits and excellencies of his 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 167 
 
 brethren in the ministry, with whom he would 
 naturally be compared, with the most evident 
 pleasure, deeming their successes his own." 
 
 His self-forgetfulness was great. Where 
 duty pointed, he went, no matter what toil or 
 suffering lay in the way. He bore other men's 
 burdens, he forgot his need of rest, and night 
 vigils with the sick and dying were continued 
 beyond the ordinary limits of human endu- 
 rance. To reward merit, he would put him- 
 self on the background. To promote a friend, 
 he would humble himself. To relieve suffer- 
 ing, he would sacrifice personal comfort. 
 These are statements confirmed by the obser- 
 vation of all, and by the experience of many, 
 who knew him. 
 
 He was a patient suiferer. Afflicted much 
 of his life, he seldom spoke of his bodily ail- 
 ments. Often when racked with severe pain, 
 he went through all his usual Sabbath services, 
 or visited his people, and his calm, cheerful 
 manner, suggested no inquiries concerning 
 his health. He would refer with much feelino^ 
 
168 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 to the afflictione of friends, and bear his own 
 in patient silence. 
 
 nis genial hospitality will be gratefully 
 remembered by many. His ministerial friends 
 always received a most cordial welcome. The 
 invalid stranger, lacking needed comforts at 
 the village hotel, has found a home in the min- 
 ister's family, kindly watched and cared for, 
 and sent on his way with pleasant memories 
 that shall never die. "I was a stranger," says 
 one, who soon learned to love him, "and he 
 took me in. I came from a distant part of the 
 country; he never seemed for a moment to 
 feel the slightest local prejudice, but hailed 
 and welcomed me among his people and to 
 his own fire-side, with protracted and free 
 hospitality, and most generous attentions, 
 so long as my continuance required or 
 admitted." 
 
 He was wont to enter readily and heartily, 
 and with great self-forgetfulness, into all the 
 hopes, wishes and anxieties of all who appealed 
 to him, or whom he saw in need of sympathy 
 or aid. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 169 
 
 He was delicate in giving counsel. His 
 sensibilities were acute ; his tact ready, and his 
 appreciation of the whole case presented, was 
 wonderfully complete. His advice to the soul, 
 burdened witli sin, was judicious. He rarely 
 bewildered with much talking, but by a few 
 appropriate words, met the case, and relieved 
 the anxiety. 
 
 He was peculiarly happy in addressing the 
 afflicted and bereaved. He urged them with a 
 sweet persuasiveness to carry their burdens to 
 Jesus; contrasted the light afflictions with the 
 glory to be revealed; turned their thoughts to 
 the rest of that world where clouds shall never 
 gather, and sorrow shall never come. There 
 are bereaved ones on their way home to-day, 
 whose pathway will be brightened to its close 
 by the remembrance of his sympathy, and the 
 comforting words he spake. 
 
 He had a rare capacity for joy and suffering. 
 This being the case, he was peculiarly careful 
 of others, placing himself between them and 
 suffering, physical or mental, whenever it was 
 possible. He was mindful of the Divine direc- 
 15 
 
170 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 tion: "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so 
 fulfil the law of Christ." Gal. vi. 2. 
 
 His social qualities were of a high order. 
 He eschewed the cold formality of fashionable 
 life. He was natural, warm, and free in inter- 
 course with his friends, and won the churlish 
 by his courteous and kind attentions. 
 
 He was preeminently a man of prayer. 
 When oppressed, wounded, fearful, discour- 
 aged, happy, he went to the "secret place of 
 the stairs." He had stated times for private 
 devotions, and studiously guarded against any 
 interruption or diversion from them. He 
 always rose early, in order that he might secure 
 time for devotional reading, meditation, and 
 prayer. He carried every want to Jesus. The 
 daily cares of the family were laid before the 
 Heavenly Friend, and direction sought in all 
 the plans which had reference to his domestic 
 duties and enjoyments. One day, when his 
 wife was perplexed about certain provisions 
 for the househeld, he said, " Did you ask God 
 for it?" "Do you ask for such things?" "Yes, 
 always. Everything I think it right to desire 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 171 
 
 I ask for, believing that if it is best I should 
 have it, God would give it." 
 
 He disliked late hours. Saturday evening 
 he wanted to himself. Often he failed to secure 
 time for meditation and prayer on that even- 
 ing, by reason of the interruption of visitors. 
 Then the night was apt to be one of restless- 
 ness, and often, on his bed, he was overheard 
 pleading for a blessing upon his people and 
 himself. 
 
 His love to Christians was strong. He often 
 spoke with great affection of some of his 
 friends who were eminent for piety. His 
 heart warmed toward the humblest who bore 
 the image of the Saviour. As he grew more 
 like Jesus, his love toward the weakest disciple 
 
 increased. Of one he writes : " C is a good 
 
 man, a noble man, a thinking man, and, better 
 than all, a praying man. I derive much ad- 
 vantage from his society." Of another, to 
 whom his soul was knit, as David's to Jona- 
 than: "There is no man I ever saw that 
 comes nearer to my idea of a good man than 
 
172 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 E ," and he loved him because he walked 
 
 with God. 
 
 lie loved to converse on subjects pertaining 
 to Christ and his kingdom. The writer re- 
 members talks about Jesus, when walking with 
 him through the fields, or sitting together in 
 the quiet study. His face would brighten as 
 he dwelt on the beauties of the Beloved, the 
 One altogether lovely, and his eyes would fill 
 with tears as he spoke of the way by which the 
 kind Shepherd had led him. There was a sick 
 minister who spent several days in his family. 
 He was one who had lived near the cross, and 
 breathed the atmosphere of heaven on earth. 
 "I love Jesus, and I like to tell him so," 
 the minister was wont to say. Very pleasant 
 were the conversations between the sufferer 
 and his tender nurse, and during those few days 
 they were bound together by bonds of Chris- 
 tian affection, which even death has not sun- 
 dered. There was no spiritual parade mani- 
 fested in his conversation. He avoided the 
 appearance of religious cant. He was never 
 attracted to persons who talked religion on all 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 173 
 
 occasions, and honored Christ but little, if at 
 all, by Christian labors. "Some people's 
 tongues are larger than both their hands." 
 But with simple-minded and sincere Christians 
 he held sweet counsel, and was greatly re- 
 freshed by it. His views on "Keligious Con- 
 versation" were fully presented in an elaborate 
 and eminently practical article, written several 
 years ago, and published in a monthly maga- 
 zine. It was based on the words of the pro- 
 phecy, Malachi iii. 16. He insisted that if 
 Jesus was oftener the subject of devout and 
 loving contemplation we would oftener talk 
 about Him. "While I was musing, the fire 
 burned: then spake I with my tongue." Psalm 
 xxxix. 3. 
 
 He was a cheerful Christian, equally re- 
 moved from levity and moroseness. At times 
 he was very sad. His tender sympathies and 
 warm affections made him a sufferer. But he 
 was habitually cheerful. He had strong faith 
 in the Covenant-God, and believed all things 
 would work together for his good. He thought 
 the Christian had much to be thankful for, and 
 15* 
 
174 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 abiding ground for hope. "Let the children 
 of Zion be joyful in their King." "When he 
 walked or rode abroad with a friend, and, with 
 his ardent love of nature, talked of the gran- 
 deur of the mountains, or the beauties of the 
 valleys, he found an argument for joy in all 
 that he saw, recalling the beautifal lines of 
 the pious Cowper : 
 
 "He looks abroad into the varied field 
 Of nature, and though poor perhaps, compared 
 With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, 
 Calls the delightful scenery all his own. 
 His are the mountains, and the valleys his, 
 And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy 
 With a propriety that none can feel, 
 But who with filial confidence inspired, 
 Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 
 And smiling, say — ' My Father made them all.' " 
 
 And yet he was subject to seasons of reli- 
 gious depression, and was often distressed by 
 the fierce and protracted assaults of Satan. 
 He records his conflicts with the adversary, 
 and his attempts to escape from his snares. "I 
 read Hebrew, I read theology, I write sermons, 
 but I can neither read nor write myself clear 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 175 
 
 of the Gorgons which meet me at every turn." 
 His only relief was found in looking to Jesus. 
 He is the Lord, strong and mighty in battle. 
 To Him he carries his despondency and fear. 
 By and by the dark clouds all roll away, and 
 the heavens are full of glory. "1 feel that I 
 love Jesus, and am loved by Him." Then, 
 after a season of great religious enjoyment, 
 depression comes again, and Satan, taking 
 advantage of the exhaustion induced by exces- 
 sive joy, renews his attacks, and the buflfetted 
 soul realizes that unbroken rest is not to be 
 found on this side of the grave. Sometimes 
 he would waken his wife, far on in the night, 
 and say, "My dear, come to me, I am in the 
 dark. I cannot find Him," He had spent 
 nearly all the night in agonizing prayer for 
 the light of God's face. Then his wife would 
 go to him, tell him of the faithfulness of Jesus, 
 take him by the hand, as if he were a little 
 child, and lead him to the cross. The night of 
 weeping was succeeded by a morning of joy. 
 
 There was a pious widow near by, to whom 
 he would sometimes go in his seasons of de- 
 
176 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 pression, and was often lifted up by her large 
 and loving experience. She had been in the 
 fires. Her husband had gone home to God, 
 and left her alone with Jesus. She had 
 learned precious lessons in the night of sorrow, 
 and had the tongue of the learned to speak 
 words of comfort to this weary, burdened one. 
 Eefreshed by christian converse, he would 
 say : " Though He slay me, yet will I trust in 
 Him. I will rejoice in the Lord, and joy in 
 the God of my salvation. My Saviour! My 
 Saviour! He died for me — on the cross!" 
 
 One day he left his study, and passed into 
 an adjoining room that he might tell his wife 
 he was again in the dark, and ask her to pray 
 for him. One of his children, then three years 
 old, was playing on the floor. Whether he 
 comprehended what his father was saying, 
 cannot certainly be told. But presently he 
 began to sing, 
 
 "0, do not be discouraged, 
 For Jesus is your Friend," 
 
 and having sung the sweet couplet, went on 
 with his play. His father was moved to tears, 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 177 
 
 and went away to cast himself on the tender 
 compassion of the Friend who was born for 
 adversity. 
 
 Physical causes had doubtless much to do 
 with these seasons of despondency. "It is 
 mine infirmity" which often beclouds the 
 mind, and almost crushes out our hope. His 
 friend, the Rev. Dr. Plumer, whom he loved 
 as a father, comprehended the case, and after 
 listening to a sad narration of his experiences, 
 through the darkest months of his life, the 
 good Doctor said: "The trouble is with the 
 physical. It is worn out. You need rest. 
 The question is, how to get it." It is a 
 pleasant thought that physical disorders are 
 unknown in heaven, and no clouds ever cast a 
 shadow over the soul that out of tribulation 
 has gone thither. 
 
 We close this chapter with a paragraph 
 written by one who was, for many years, one 
 of Mr. Thom's most familiar friends. "There 
 was a childlike simplicity in his (Mr. T's) 
 christian character, Avhich those unacquainted 
 with him would not appreciate. I often 
 
178 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 thought, in conversations with him on the 
 subject of experimental religion, that his 
 views were singularly clear on the great 
 saving truths of the gospel. With simple, 
 yet strong faith, he clung to Christ as his 
 Saviour, and showed an earnest desire to be 
 more and more transformed into his likeness. 
 I now recall with melancholy pleasure the 
 many Sabbath evenings I spent with him at 
 the Seminary, when in christian confidence 
 we spoke to each other of our inner life. I 
 love to think of him, and of my intercourse 
 with him. And while with gratitude I recall 
 the past, faith points forward to the time when 
 I hope that the sacred and delightful com- 
 munings of earth shall be renewed in heaven." 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 179 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 THE HUSBAND AND FATHER. 
 
 Philip Henry was wont to say: "A good 
 Christian will be a good father, and a good 
 husband, and a good master, and a good 
 neighbor, and so in other relations," He was 
 undoubtedly right. One who was questioned 
 as to his christian integrity, referred the 
 inquirer to his family for the desired informa- 
 tion. There are many professors of religion 
 who fail to exhibit the beauties of holiness in 
 their homes. It was otherwise with Mr. Thorn. 
 Nowhere did he manifest the graces of the 
 Spirit more fully than in his family. He did 
 not need to be reminded of the apostolic 
 injunction: "Husbands love your wives." A 
 more affectionate, considerate, self-forgetful, 
 devoted husband, the writer never knew. No 
 one could spend a day in his family without 
 being impressed with his loving attentions to 
 
180 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 his wife and children, and the spirit of piety 
 which characterized every word and act. 
 
 His was a happy home. The little house, 
 removed from the dusty highway, sheltered 
 by trees, overshadowed too by vigilant love, 
 and surrounded by the ministering spirits sent 
 from the Father above, well deserved the 
 designation of "Sunny Side." 
 
 One who spent some time in the manse says, 
 he never before had seen the christian graces 
 so manifested in any household, and that 
 during his sojourn in it, influences for good 
 were brought about him, "stronger than 
 hooks of steel." 
 
 Mr. Thom was very attentive to the little 
 things of life; little acts of kindness, expres- 
 sions of affection, and the like. Perhaps no 
 wife ever received more constant and delicate 
 attentions than his. It was his joy to carry 
 her burdens. Often, when weary with the 
 labors of the day; he insisted that he would 
 watch with the sick children through the 
 night, in order that her rest might be undis- 
 turbed. 
 
RKV. JOHN C. THOM. 181 
 
 The first years of liis married life were 
 years of much affliction. He said there was a 
 necessity for these afflictions. They were 
 evidently blessed to his spiritual good, and 
 enlarged his sympathies with the afflicted. 
 God's ministers endure much sufFering for 
 their people's sake. "Blessed be God, even 
 the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the 
 Father of mercies, and God of all comfort; 
 who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that 
 we may be able to comfort them which are in 
 any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we 
 ourselves are comforted of God." 
 
 When his first-born son was less than a year 
 old, he was taken very sick. For weeks and 
 even months, it was feared the child would 
 not recover. The father was greatly depressed, 
 as he sat, day after day, in the shadow of an 
 oncoming sorrow which no human hand could 
 avert. To his wife he said, with a tone of 
 regretful ness: "Instead of bearing you up, my 
 dear, I am leaning on you, like a tired child: 
 but I never was so completely unmanned." 
 At length he was enabled, in calm submission, 
 1(5 
 
182 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 to give his child to God, and then God gave 
 back the child to him. He rose from that 
 baptism of fire, enfeebled in body, but with a 
 new consecration to God, who had afflicted him 
 in love. 
 
 Soon after this, his wife was prostrated by 
 violent sickness. Through weeks of anxiety, 
 he could scarcely eat or sleep. His attentions 
 were constant. God brought her back from 
 the gates of the grave, and they magnified the 
 name of the Lord together. Those months of 
 almost sleepless anxiety, to one of his impul- 
 sive, ardent temperament, told unmistakably 
 on the physical man, and no sooner was the 
 stress of high-wrought feeling relaxed, than 
 the overtaxed strength went rapidly down. 
 Then followed the death of his father. "The 
 clouds return after the rain." 
 
 He endeavored to make the home attractive 
 to his children. Beautiful engravings, and oil 
 paintings, decorated the walls. He devised 
 healthful and pleasant amusements for the 
 children, and so varied them, as to prevent 
 weariness, He ^nmse^ and instructed his 
 
REV. JOnN C. THOM. 183 
 
 boys by anecdotes, of which he had an inex- 
 haustible store, by the rehearsal of incidents 
 in his own life, and by telling them of beauti- 
 ful scenes he had witnessed in his distant jour- 
 neyings. Then he had many pleasant talks 
 with them about Jesus, the children's friend, 
 and endeavored to turn their hearts to Him in 
 the mornins; of life. 
 
 When weary and worn with pastoral labors, 
 returning late in the day from long rides, and 
 perhaps with some burden on his heart, he 
 often said, "Nothing so takes the tired out 
 of me, as the welcome I receive from my wife 
 and boys." His physician, who was present 
 one evening, having witnessed the joy of the 
 children on their father's return, remarked : 
 "a parent cannot come home to such a scene, 
 and keep very gloomy thoughts. The sound of 
 baby voices, the touch of little hands climbing 
 at the koees, must surely drive anxious care 
 away." To a great extent it was so in the 
 experience of the father to whom the remark 
 was addressed. 
 
 On one occasion, when absent, his eldest boy 
 
184 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 endeavored to comfort his mother, and said 
 he would take his fixther's place. She inquired 
 if he could not ask God to bring his father 
 to him. He turned aside, lifted his hands, and 
 said: "Please God, bring papa home to 
 mamma and Bertie," and then added — "God 
 heard Bertie's voice." The father came home 
 to spend a few days with the family, but 
 received no welcome from his boy, who was 
 then very sick, and in his delirium failed to 
 recognize his parent, and would not consent to 
 his entering the room. This affected Mr. 
 Thorn very deeply, and he could not refrain 
 from tears. The following day he succeeded in 
 quieting the child, and took the little sufferer 
 in his arms, who, after looking long and inqui- 
 ringly in the father's face, recognized him, and 
 putting his arms around his neck, repeated 
 over and over again his expressions of love. 
 The father wept again, but now for joy. This 
 incident shows the strong bond of sympathy 
 which united the father and his child, and the 
 depth of the parent's affection. 
 
 When absent, his thoughts were so much 
 
REV. JOHN C. TeOM. 185 
 
 given to his family, and he felt so concerned 
 for their comfort, that he did not derive the 
 advantage from his occasional vacations which 
 he needed. In one of his letters to his wife 
 occurs the following expressions of solicitude 
 for her health, " Your system, too long excited, 
 shows the effects of over-exertion. Remem- 
 ber your life and health are not yours alone. 
 Another heart bleeds in every throb of pain 
 you feel. Another spirit looks for happiness 
 to that which animates you. Your life is a 
 double one, and its mission double." 
 
 His success in controlling his children was 
 remarkable. From early infancy his authority 
 was undisputed, and yet he was gentle and 
 indulgent. He ruled by love. The times for 
 family worship were so arranged that all might 
 be present, and he endeavored to make the 
 service attractive, never wearisome. In addi- 
 tion to the family devotions, he made a habit 
 of offering a special prayer for the boys, after 
 they had retired at night. The family devo- 
 tions in the evening, were always observed, for 
 the children's sake, immediately after the even- 
 16* 
 
186 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 ing meal, and at a later hour the parents again 
 committed themselves and little ones to the 
 care of the covenant-keeping God. Truly 
 could the father say, "Seven times a day do I 
 praise thee, because of thy righteous judg- 
 ments." 
 
 One evening, after he had prayed with his 
 wife, being in one of those pensive moods 
 which sometimes came over him when he 
 thought of his children, he turned to his wife, 
 and said: "Dear, I don't want you to die, and 
 leave me with the care of these boys. Who 
 could manage those dispositions, that require 
 such peculiar care and prudence, so well as 
 you. A father never can keep little children 
 with him, a mother, no matter what her 
 circumstances, always can." These twilight 
 moments were among the sweetest and most 
 sacred in the lives of those parents; moments 
 when they looked forward and on into eternity, 
 their hearts knit lovingly together as they 
 talked of their little ones, and in arms of faith 
 committed them tq Him who has said, "I will 
 be a God unto thee, and to thy seed after thee." 
 
REV, JOHN C. THOM, 187 
 
 His faith in the God of the Covenant was 
 usually strong. To the mother he would often 
 say, "Keep near the cross." When she was 
 depressed he would ask her to cast her burden 
 on the Lord, and trust in his word. "You 
 lean on me with perfect confidence. You 
 know how much I love that perfect trust. 
 You tell me I have never abused it, and earth 
 affords me no greater joy than to hear you say 
 so. Just so Christ would have you, in perfect 
 confidence, lean on Him. You are weak. 
 Tell Him so. He ofiers you His strength. 
 Trust in Him; He loves to have you do it." 
 Thus he threw light on the dark places, and 
 helped his wife to lean on Him, "on whom 
 archangels lean." 
 
 He frequently wrote to his children when 
 absent from them. Here is a specimen. 
 " Good morning ! two boys ! How are you this 
 morning? Are you good boys, and kind to 
 your dear mother, and do you pray every day 
 for me? I am down by the big sea. Some- 
 times I see great fishes :. one day a porpoise, 
 one day a shark; and I often see little fishes, 
 
188 MKMOIU OF TUE 
 
 herring, and flounders, and it is fine sport to 
 catch them. Can you tell me of any one the 
 Bible tells about, who went a fishing? Now, 
 my sweet boys, go and play, and be kind to 
 one another, and may God bless you." 
 
 Speaking of the separation from his family, 
 when in a western city, he says: "Enjoyment 
 is not enjoyment without you, my dear suifer- 
 ing wife. God bless you and our sweet babes. 
 ... But dearest, I know we meet at the feet 
 of Jesus. I know our elder Brother watches 
 over us. If I could not commend you to a 
 covenant-keeping God, what should I do? 
 Now, my dear wife, my heart is yearning 
 after you and our dear boys. What home- 
 sick desires I feel, as I count the days that 
 
 keep me from you God bless you, my 
 
 love, and God bless our dear babes, and bring 
 me safe home, to be separated as seldom as 
 His blessed will may allow." 
 
 Referring to the brief seasons which, unoc- 
 cupied with pastoral duties, were spent in the 
 home-circle, he says: "Those pleasant mo- 
 ments shed their light backward and forward, 
 till all my life looks bright for them." 
 
EEV. JOHN C. TUOM. 189 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 M I S C E L L A N E () V S I- K T T K 11 S . 
 
 His letters were necessarily written, as a rule, 
 " currente calamo" — with a running pen, for 
 he was greatly pressed with labor. They are 
 not specimens of fine writing, but simple, and 
 often touching, utterances of the heart. They 
 are eminently spiritual. As he made it a rule 
 to speak to fellow-travelers on the subject of 
 personal religion, so also to write many things 
 "touching the King." His correspondence is 
 fragrant with the name of Jesus, and breathes 
 the spirit of one who lived in habitual com- 
 munion with God. 
 
 It would be well if Christians more fre- 
 quently availed themselves of the opportuni- 
 ties furnished, in the interchange of letters, of 
 doing good to one another, and of pressing 
 Christ upon the acceptance of their uncon- 
 
190 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 verted friends. In tins way, precious seed 
 might be silently deposited in many minds, 
 and only the harvest- time of eternity would 
 reveal the fruitfulness of such essays to do 
 good. Why should there not be something in 
 every letter of friendship, which shall point to 
 the future world, and to Him who is the way 
 to the Father? 
 
 For reasons already given, Mr. Thom's cor- 
 respondence was not very extensive. From the 
 few letters which have come into our posses- 
 sion we select such as may be most profitable 
 to the reader, and exhibit the different phases 
 of his Christian character. 
 
 From Natchez, he writes thus to a friend: 
 "This is a beautiful world! The sweetest 
 birds and the loveliest flowers, the rarest per- 
 fumes, and the clearest sky, are around me 
 and above me. All nature is rejoicing in the 
 full bloom of spring, and such a spring, to a 
 native of a more northern climate, is astonish- 
 ing, and the luxuriance and prodigality of 
 nature here cannot be conceived without being 
 seen. It is just now the season of roses, and 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 191 
 
 every garden, lawn, and even every hedge- 
 row, is a wilderness of fragrance and beauty. 
 How can any one be sad in such a paradise? 
 Truly, God is good. But, alas! the curse is 
 upon it all. 
 
 'Every prospect pleases, 
 And only man is vile' " 
 
 After his arrival at Princeton, September 
 10, 1857: "I have closed my engagements at 
 the south. I have bid adieu to friends more 
 endeared than I had hoped to find in the land 
 of strangers. With many a heart-throb I 
 spoke the oft repeated farewell, and almost 
 wept when the fervent 'God bless you,' fell 
 on my ear. I climbed the great father of 
 waters to where 'La belle reviere' minoles its 
 clear waters in the turbid flood. I swept 
 across the great prairies, once the hunting 
 ground of the Indian, and the pasture of his 
 companion, the bison. I visited the Queen 
 City, climbed her observatory hill, and gazed 
 upon the sweltering thousands beneath; 
 traversed the plains of Ohio, smiling with 
 cultivation, and rejoicing in abundant har- 
 
192 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 vests; stopped amid the smoke and soot of 
 Pittsburgh, to revive the most delightful asso- 
 ciations man is privileged to enjoy — those of 
 friendship and aft'ection; mounted the Alle- 
 ghenies, breathed the pure mountain air, and 
 rejoiced in the untouched tokens of God's 
 power; passed through the valleys, and 
 among the hills of southern Pennsylvania, and 
 Maryland; climbed the Washington monu- 
 ment in Baltimore, and looked upon the city, 
 its crowded streets, magnificent buildings, 
 elegant monuments, the bay covered with 
 sails, like white sea-birds floating in the dis- 
 tance, the country beyond stretching away 
 like the vanishing creations of a dream; 
 passed through the cedar groves of Maryland, 
 then away to the capitol, then to Mt. Vernon, 
 thence to the Quaker City, and New York ; 
 back again to my home, a few hours of repose, 
 a few of enjoyment, a few of travel, and here I 
 am, in the school of prophets, sitting at the feet 
 of the doctors of theology, in the same room 
 where Alexander and Miller taught young 
 men the great principles of the gospel! O 
 
REV. JOllS C. THOM. 193 
 
 Spirit of the past, if yet lingering about these 
 walls, inspire me with • zeal to pursue in the 
 footsteps of the worthies who have gone 
 before! And 0! Spirit of the living God, 
 breath into my soul the inspiration Thou 
 alone canst give." 
 
 "Princeton, Feb. 1, 1858. I have sent to 
 Philadelphia for a ticket to 'Everett's Wash- 
 ington Oration.' They were all disposed of 
 before any were publicly offered for sale. 
 Tickets are now selling for three dollars, 
 which at first cost fifty cents. What a posi- 
 tion for a man to occupy! To see a whole 
 city contending for the privilege of even 
 standing to hear him declaim a piece he has 
 already declaimed nearly seventy times! I 
 would rather be Everett than emperor of all 
 the Pussias, and yet he that is least in the 
 kingdom of heaven is greater than he." 
 
 To an afflicted friend : " Two days ago you 
 were trembling with apprehension. Are you 
 now weeping with bereaved tenderness? or 
 giving thanks for the removal of His rod? 
 Shall I say, 'whom the Lord loveth He 
 17 
 
194 MEMOIK OF THE 
 
 chasteneth?' or 'The Lord is merciful and 
 gracious, slow to auger, and of tender mercies?' 
 I can say both, and more — 'Trust in the Lord, 
 and be of good courage. The Lord will give 
 grace and glory.' The first time we ever 
 talked together, we spoke of the wonderful 
 adaptation of God's consolations in His word 
 to the wants of the human heart. We both, I 
 trust, know far more of them now. Let us 
 thank Him for all His mercies, of which, 
 strength to endure to this time, and the pro- 
 mise of strength to endure unto the end, are 
 by no means the smallest. Let us pray to be 
 strong in the Lord, and in the power of His 
 might." 
 
 To another in affliction: "I am sorry you 
 are so unwell this summer. I think I can 
 sympathize with you better now than ever 
 before. God always intends some good when 
 he afQicts us. He desires to make us holier, 
 happier, or more useful in this world, and to 
 work out for us a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory in the world to come. 
 That is what makes this life worth living for — 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 195 
 
 the ivorld to come! 0! what a blessed thing 
 it will be to be there, and count over all God's 
 mercies, some of them in the form of afflic- 
 tions, but all of them mercies still. Some of 
 them dark and mysterious, but all good. Let 
 us trust Him ever, and He will make plain 
 what now is dark." 
 
 To a dear friend, whose home-circle had 
 been entered by death, he writes expressions 
 of tenderest sympathy and words of comfort: 
 "Your letter of January 1st came to-day: that 
 sad, sad letter, with the black seal. And can 
 it be that she has lain so many weeks in the 
 cold grave? .... And that poor boy! A sad 
 picture comes before me, painted not on the 
 memory, but on the heart, when I too wept 
 my baby tears at a desolate fireside. And ! 
 if that were all! If the first burst of childish 
 grief could remove the shadow from the heart! 
 But that darkens and darkens. Poor little 
 orphan boy! May God take thee up! And 
 then, too, your poor brother! I see him yet, 
 as I saw him kissing the cold lips of his first- 
 born son, and I know, 0! how well I know, 
 
196 . MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 the strong agony which the rod wrings from 
 the bruised heart, when we see our homes 
 blasted, and our hopes of love and happiness 
 all -swept away in a moment. We kiss the 
 rod with a quivering lip, and with tremulous 
 voice and broken, we cry, 'Father, Thy will 
 be done.' Tell your brother that away in this 
 far country, there is one heart that shares in 
 the sorrow that grows up from her grave, and 
 joins in the earnest cry, 'lead us to the Rock 
 that is higher than we.' The Lord hear him 
 in the day of trouble; the name of the God of 
 Jacob defend him, send him help from the 
 sanctuary, and strengthen him out of Zion." 
 
 When at the Seminary, having heard of the 
 sickness of a student, an entire stranger, Mr. 
 Thom proposed sitting up with him, and was 
 taken to the sick room by a friend. He suc- 
 ceeded in soothing the nervous suflerer who 
 remarked, some time in the night, that he had 
 not felt so comfortable in a long time, and in 
 the mornino; beo'sred his kind nurse to return. 
 Mr. Thom was glad to do anything in his 
 power to alleviate suffering, and be remained 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 197 
 
 with the young man until he was "carried 
 home by the angels." lie alludes to this case 
 in the following letter. "This silent, solitary 
 chamber; the stillness that reigns over a 
 hundred sleepers; the adjacent bed of death; 
 the melancholy tale of him who died alone, 
 with no tenderer hand than a fellow-student's 
 to close his eyes — all . cast a gloom over this 
 dark and stormy night, fit emblem of the night 
 of life, through which we poor pilgrims are 
 80 wearily and doubtfully groping our way. 
 But the dawn lies beyond. 'He shall a pure 
 and heavenly spirit be,' when the sufferings 
 and neglect of life are forgotten. For many 
 years the grave has demanded its annual 
 tribute from this institution. One, every ses- 
 sion, bequeathes his uncompleted labor to his 
 fellows, and goes to present himself as a kind 
 of first-fruits at the great sanctuary above. 
 Whose turn will it be next? .... You, too, 
 wrote almost from the chamber of death. 
 And is your dear friend in the General As- 
 sembly above? The fatliers, where are they? 
 and the prophets, do they live for ever?" 
 17* 
 
198 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 We have already referred to his interest iu 
 young men. It was a great pleasure to him 
 to write to students, and others, who had gone 
 out from his congregation, and tliey were 
 equally pleased to regard him as their pastor 
 still, though far removed from their spiritual 
 home. To one he writes, 
 
 "January 6, 1862. Dear "W , I was glad 
 
 to receive your letter. I never forget my 
 friends, and especially my people, and above 
 all, the young men of my charge. It is pleas- 
 ant to feel that I in turn am not forgotten. I 
 can sympathize very readily with you as I 
 was once a TzaidaycDjo::. I like the term very 
 well: much better than the Latin ludimajester, 
 
 though your teachers at M combine the 
 
 meaning of both in a high degree. To excel in 
 leading youth both in literature and athletics, 
 merits no small praise. I am not at all sorry 
 that you sometimes feel the annoyances and 
 burden of teaching, as well as the pleasures. 
 They are as necessary to give you moral mus- 
 cle, as foot-ball and cricket are to give you 
 physical. But there is a higher kind of mus- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 199 
 
 cle, if I may use the terra, brought out by 
 groans and tears, wrung from us by trials and 
 agony. Trials are as needful for our spiritual 
 health, as exercise for the bodily. They are 
 necessary for our religious usefulness also. 
 I doubt much whether any man was ever able 
 to get hold of the deep-seated passions, and 
 springs of human action, whose own soul was 
 
 never refined in the crucible Don't say 
 
 you would rather suffer something else than 
 what God lays upon you. He knows best. 
 And as a physician prescribes the most heal- 
 ing nostrum without regard to its taste, and 
 often because it is bitter and sickening, so God 
 often makes us suffer till our soul is in bitter- 
 ness, to bring health and happiness after- 
 ward." 
 
 Again he addresses two young men: — 
 "Dear friends, I write to both of you together, 
 for you seem very much like brothers, and 
 members of my own family. Some time ago, 
 
 I received a circular from A , asking me 
 
 to dismiss you to join the college church. I 
 feel a little as a father does, when he bids good- 
 
200 ^ MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 bye to his boy who is going out to return no 
 more. I have all the while felt that, though 
 you were away, you belonged to me. But it 
 may be better you should unite with the 
 church there. I leave it to your own judg- 
 ment, and if you think it best, present the 
 enclosed certificate, and be received at as early 
 a day as you can. 
 
 "But, my dear friends, remember that you 
 are anywhere, and everywhere, members of the 
 body of Christ, and temples of the Holy Ghost, 
 and see that you keep yourselves holy for His 
 sacred service. The temple of the Lord is 
 holy, which temple ye are." 
 
 We will close with a letter written from 
 
 Bedford. "Dear Mrs. L , I have been 
 
 traveling every day since I left Waynesburg, 
 except Sabbath, through the mountains and 
 through the valleys, until I am quite glad to 
 sit still for a few days. This is a beautiful 
 region, and I am much refreshed by seeing 
 and becoming acquainted with brethren in the 
 ministry. 
 
 "I saw Mr. B at H . Spent a 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 201 
 
 couple of hours with him, in a mixture of sad 
 and pleasing emotions. His expectations of 
 labor, and even life, are extremely low. But 
 I cannot say he is cast down. He lays hold, 
 with the strength of Israel, on the Angel of the 
 Covenant. 0! how he does talk. I could 
 only listen, with my heart in my throat, and 
 my hands over my face. But I thank God 
 there are such consolations in religion. For a 
 a man in the vigor of life, with high prospects 
 of usefulness and reputation before him, to 
 sink into silence, and drag out the rest of his 
 years without aim or hope, is hard. But, to 
 see all this done cheerfully, thankfully, is 
 glorious! It makes one think more of the 
 light afflictions which are but for a moment, 
 w^orking out for us a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory. I feel the better for 
 my tears. May God give us grace always to 
 lean on Him ! 
 
 "I have met an unusual number of friends 
 and acquaintances of other years. The sight 
 of them takes me back to the times when life 
 was but little of what it is now." 
 
202 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 He refers to the want of comfort in preacli- 
 ing to strange congregations, and continues: 
 "As the home-feeling grows, my comfort at 
 home, and m j want of comfort away, increases. 
 Last Sabbath we celebrated the Lord's Supper. 
 We had a precious time, and the Master of 
 the feast seemed very near. How strange, 
 when His presence is so sweet, that we should 
 
 grow cold, and grieve Him away again 
 
 Pray for me, and for the whole church* for 
 me, that I may return strong in the Lord, and 
 find you all baptized with the same blessed 
 Spirit." 
 
REV. JOHN 0. THOM. 203 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 CHAPLAIN IN THE ARMY. 
 
 As a result of excessive labors and domestic 
 afflictions, during the third year of his minis- 
 try, Mr. Thorn's health was so much impaired, 
 that his congregation urged him to take a 
 vacation of six weeks or two months, and 
 made provision for the pulpit during his 
 absence. He went to Bedford, expecting to 
 derive much benefit from the pure mountain 
 air, and the mineral waters, which attract so 
 many invalids to that pleasant region. He 
 had been there but a short time when he 
 received a telegram, informing him that his 
 father was dangerously ill. He started imme- 
 diately for Eldersridge, to which place his 
 father had removed several years before. He 
 arrived there a few hours previous to the 
 death of his venerable parent, and by en- 
 couraging words and fervent prayers, brought 
 
204 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 comfort to the aged christian in bis last mo- 
 ments. 
 
 This was during the dark days of our na- 
 tional history, when the deep foundations of 
 the government were shaken, and brother met 
 brother in sanguinary conflict. At this par- 
 ticular time our army needed reinforcements, 
 and Mr. Thom was among the "drafted men." 
 Hearing of this, he returned to Waynesburg. 
 He would not allow his congregation to pay 
 the commutation which would have released 
 him from military service, neither would he 
 accept a substitute. There were reasons for 
 this course, which he deemed providential, and 
 imperatively binding. It was a great trial, 
 but he met it with an unwavering resolution. 
 
 The day before the drafted men left home 
 was communion Sabbath. It seemed to every 
 one that an impenetrable cloud hung over the 
 assembled congregation. There was a death- 
 like silence, and unwonted solemnity, through 
 all the hours of worship. At the close of the 
 service the pastor made his announcements. 
 He told the people no man had more to live 
 
EEV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 205 
 
 for than he, and yet he tliought no man was 
 more willing to lay down his life for his coun- 
 try, when God called for the sacrifice. His, 
 perhaps, was the only calm face in the congre- 
 gation. The next morning "he went with the 
 men" to AVest Chester, the designated rendez- 
 vous. Very unexpectedly, and to the great 
 joy of his family and people, he was released 
 from military duty, and permitted to return 
 home. But all this painful experience was yet 
 a preparation for another trial which was not 
 far distant. 
 
 An incident illustrative of his sympathy with 
 the suffering, may be fitly introduced in this 
 connection. In the early part of the next win- 
 ter, one of the young men of the congregation, 
 then connected with the army, died in a hos- 
 pital near Fredericksburg, Yirginia. He was 
 the son of a widow, and his father was one of 
 the godly elders who, not long before, had 
 gone to his peaceful rest. An unavailing 
 effort had been made by an only brother to 
 secure the remains of the deceased soldier, 
 The grief of the family was very great. Then, 
 18 
 
206 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 with his characteristic self- for getfulness, Mr. 
 Thorn proposed to render whatever assistance 
 he could, to bring home the dead. He went 
 with the brother to Washington City. There 
 he found it impossible to get the necessary- 
 passes. The army was expected to move 
 within a few days, and if the body was ever to 
 be recovered, immediate effort must be made. 
 Through the kindness of Kev. Dr. Gurley, Mr. 
 Thom was sent within the army lines as a 
 representative of the Christian Commission. 
 He had made no arrangements for a length- 
 ened absence from home, and was illy pre- 
 pared for unavoidable exposure in that incle- 
 ment season. It was mid-winter, and the 
 season was peculiarly unfavorable. With an 
 unpleasant prospect before him he started 
 alone. He suffered much from cold and 
 fatigue, and it was several months before he 
 recovered from the exposure of those anxious 
 weeks. He succeeded in his errand, and to- 
 day the body of the noble young soldier sleeps 
 with his fathers, in the family burial-ground. 
 While with the armv, at this time, we are 
 
REV, JOHN C. THOM. 207 
 
 told that Mr, Thorn ministered with "womanly 
 tenderness" to the temporal and spiritual 
 wants of the soldiers, and doubtless the fruits 
 of that service have, as yet, been but partially 
 gathered. 
 
 When in a measure recovered from the 
 indisposition which followed this labor of love, 
 he accepted an invitation to spend a week in 
 Bedford, The church in that place was enjoy- 
 ing a revival of religion, and the pastor, who 
 up to that time had labored alone, needed 
 assistance. For a few days Mr. Thorn preached 
 with considerable difficulty, and but little free- 
 dom. His physical condition had an unfavor- 
 able effect on his spiritual state, at least so far 
 as concerned the enjoyment of public religious 
 services. He felt that he was only declaiming, 
 not preaching. It grieved and humbled him. 
 After a day of great depression and much 
 prayer, he went to the evening meeting with a 
 feeling of utter helplessness, clinging to the 
 suflftcient grace of Christ. He preached a very 
 simple and impressive sermon. It was an 
 aftectionate presentation of the truth concern- 
 
208 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 ing the Lamb of God, and souls were drawn 
 to the embrace of the Saviour's love. From 
 that time onward, during his stay in Bedford, 
 he preached in demonstration of the Spirit and 
 with power. Very sweet was the communion 
 with the Beloveii, and the joy of that harvest- 
 time sliall never be forgotten. 
 
 From Bedford he returned home with a 
 heart all aglow with love to Christ and souls. 
 After the warm welcome from his family, he 
 called his wife aside, and requested that she 
 would not oversee the "special dinner," nor do 
 anything else, until he had told her what the 
 Lord was doing for the people among whom 
 he had labored ? Then, with a beaming coun- 
 tenance and full heart, he spake of the revival, 
 and the precious communings enjoyed with 
 Jesus ; after which they knelt together at the 
 mercy-seat, "where friend holds fellowship 
 with friend," and in a fervent prayer he com- 
 mended the church in Bedford, and tlieir pas- 
 tor, to the Heavenly Friend, who has said, 
 "Lo, I am with you alway." The influence of 
 that visit lingered with him through many 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 209 
 
 months. He preached to his people with unu- 
 sual unction and power, and his own advance 
 in the Divine life was continuous and joyous. 
 
 At a later period he preached for a brief 
 season at Coleraine, Pennsylvania. The pas- 
 tor, Eev. C. W. Stewart, gives his personal 
 impressions of those services: "It seemed to 
 me that Mr. Thorn, at this time, was fast ripen- 
 ing for heaven. There was an indefinable 
 something about his manner that impressed 
 me deeply. He seemed to be overwhelmed 
 with a sense of responsibility as a minister of 
 the gospel, and preached as I had never heard 
 him preach before. He seemed to feel that he 
 was preaching to us for the last time, and told 
 us that he would soon stand as a witness, for 
 or against us, at the bar of God. In the even- 
 ing of our communion Sabbath he preached a 
 sermon to the unconverted, which made a 
 powerful impression upon our people. During 
 the great revival in our church, a month or 
 two later, there were many who dated their 
 serious impressions from that solemn dis- 
 course." 
 
 18* 
 
210 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 The summer of 1863 was a memorable sea- 
 son in the history of this country. Then the 
 southern army, under General Lee, crossed the 
 Potomac, and invaded Pennsylvania. It was 
 the culmination of rebellion, and the darkest 
 hour in all the long years of the cruel war. 
 Many despaired of saving the nation from 
 utter overthrow, and proposed a cessation of 
 hostilities. A larger number were determined 
 to repel the invading armies, or perish in the 
 attempt. One day a telegram was received at 
 "Waynesburg, stating that the bridge at Colum- 
 bia, Pennsylvania, had been burned, in order 
 to check the progress of the enemy, then 
 gathered in considerable force at Wrightsville, 
 on the opposite side of the river. That night 
 the village bells were rung, and the people of 
 Waynesburg and vicinity were assembled to 
 consider their duty to the country in this 
 alarming emergency. Mr. Thom addressed 
 them in a very eloquent appeal to defend their 
 native state, their homes, and all that was dear 
 to them, pledging himself to go with any who 
 would offer themselves for military service. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 211 
 
 Chiefly through his influence, a full company 
 was raised. Mr. T. G. Buchanan, a member of 
 his congregation, was elected captain of the 
 company, and Mr. Thom took his place in the 
 ranks as a private soldier. Very sad was the 
 parting from his family, but brushing away 
 the tears, and commending his wife and boys 
 to the care of Him who is always near,, he 
 went forth to meet the uncertain issues of the 
 approaching conflict. There were several con- 
 siderations which determined him to take this 
 course. He believed, and not without reason, 
 that very few volunteers could be obtained 
 unless he would become one himself, and lead 
 the way. Patriotism prompted the personal 
 consecration. Then he felt that the young 
 men of his congregation would be exposed to 
 many temptations, and he wished to do what 
 he could to preserve them from the vices so 
 prevalent in the array. He acted from a 
 solemn conviction of duty, and never had 
 reason to regret the part he performed. The 
 company went to Lancaster, and thence to 
 Harrisburg. 
 
212 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 Shortly before tlie organization of the regi- 
 ment, a spirit of defection manifested itself in 
 the company from Waynesburg. Some wished 
 to return home; others murmured against the 
 government regulations, and the majority, 
 (there were honorable exceptions,) were con- 
 templating a refusal to take the usual, oath of 
 fidelity. This becoming known to Mr. Thom, 
 he was filled with anxiety. He felt that every 
 available man was needed in those perilous 
 times. The honor of his townsmen was at stake, 
 .and the existence of the regiment depended in 
 no small extent upon the faithfulness of "Com- 
 pany C." He determined to prevent, if possi- 
 ble, a meeting jjroposed by the disaffected. 
 Accordingly he assembled the company, as 
 usual, for morning prayers and roll-call ; after 
 which he requested the men to remain a 
 moment, intimating that he had a word to say 
 to them. He then told them what he had 
 heard, and what grief it had occasioned him. 
 He spoke of the condition of the country, the 
 peril of their homes, and the disgrace of pas- 
 sive submission to invasion. His address, 
 
REV. JOHN C, TOOM. 213 
 
 which is reported to have been "very eloquent 
 and soul-stirring," concluded with the declara- 
 tion: "As for myself, I would rather die like 
 a dog, than live a coward." The effect was all 
 he desired. All complaints were hushed, and 
 every man solemnly pledged himself to help 
 drive the enemy beyond the Potomac. 
 
 When arrived at Harrisburg, there was but 
 little delay in organizing the regiment, the 
 •i7th P. Y. M., and Mr. Thorn was appointed 
 Chaplain. From Harrisburg he wrote to his 
 wife: "I got here safely last night about dark, 
 I was not sick coming up, as I feared I would 
 be, but feel very well to-day. 0! how good 
 God has been to me. I am sure I love Him. 
 I have never felt so sure of it as I have done 
 during these days, which otherwise were days 
 of great affliction and distress. I am now in 
 the way of being well cared for. I am much 
 refreshed, I need not say my eyes are dim, 
 and my heart yet feels the pressure of yours 
 in our sad good-bye, I have felt very heavy 
 and full of tears ever since. But I hope God 
 will m.ake us all the happier for our suffer- 
 
214 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 ings. God bless you, my dearest. / canuot 
 bless you as I would. Tell Bertie to be a 
 good boy and pray for papa. Tell Willie I 
 think of him, and pray for him every day, and 
 don't let him forget me. O! how his joyous 
 
 'papa, papa,' rings in my ears Write to 
 
 Harrisburg, 47th Pegiment P. M., care of Col. 
 
 Wickersham Now may you lean on our 
 
 Beloved. Yours, J. C. Thom." 
 
 The regiment left Harrisburg as soon as its 
 organization was completed, and marched to 
 the Potomac just in time to see the Con- 
 federate army cross into Virginia. It re- 
 mained encamped for several weeks, doing 
 picket and guard duty, and was then ordered 
 to Schuylkill county, to assist in keeping the 
 miners quiet, and, after a short time of service 
 there, was mustered out in Heading, the latter 
 part of August. 
 
 In this connection we will introduce a few 
 extracts from letters addressed to Mrs. Thom. 
 
 "July 4, 1863. I am in such a state of 
 excitement; that I can scarcely trust myself to 
 write. We are in fearful saspense in regard 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 215 
 
 to the battle now raging. I am completely 
 "unmanned. I have been weeping like a child, 
 and am now choking back the tears with the 
 utmost effort. But I can keep them away 
 noiu. The marks on this page are the tears of 
 heaven over the bloody field. I am in the big 
 tent of the Christian Commission, and it is not 
 proof against such a rain as this. You will 
 know the truth before this reaches you, but 
 the rumors are most painful, and the men are 
 sent forward with a despatch that shows there 
 is dreadful urgency. God make us another 
 Independence day of this! .... Last night 
 there was preaching in the tent, and I was 
 enjoying the sermon very much, when a 
 violent rain came on, and a terrific peal of 
 thunder shook the earth. In a moment more 
 
 Keese H came in, and rushing up to me, 
 
 said one of our men was struck. I hastened 
 away, and ordered the poor fellow to be drawn 
 out into the pouring rain until a surgeon 
 could be obtained. But life was gone. His 
 name is Erb, came from near Lancaster, is the 
 son of a wealthy German farmer. I attended 
 
216 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 to the poor boy, walked through the flooded 
 camp, waded through ditches, got clean cloth- 
 ing, washed him with my own hands, dressed 
 him, and laid him out as well as I could, and 
 then at midnight laid down in my wet clothes 
 
 on the ground, and slept till morning I 
 
 am very well. I don't even feel tired. I dried 
 myself at the camp-fire, and am quite comfort- 
 able. Tell Mr. Buchanan to send down for 
 Mr. Reed, to preach some Sabbath, soon. I 
 cannot tell you how kind he was to me. I am 
 glad to hear that the hearts of our people are 
 stirred up. I hope my absence will do more 
 good, through God's grace, than my presence. 
 
 God bless you, my dear wife. Go to 
 
 Jesus with all your troubles. Kiss my sweet 
 boys." 
 
 At a later date, he writes of his religious 
 enjoyment: "I have been greatly refreshed. 
 We have delightful meetings here, in the big 
 tent; precious gatherings around the throne 
 of grace at our camp, and sweet communings 
 in the tent. There are rebel prisoners here all 
 the time. I talk to them often, and give them 
 
REV. JOUX C, THOM. 217 
 
 tracts. . . . Now, dearest, you will no doubt be 
 too busy all the day to think much, but at 
 night don't weep. Think of our blessed Lord, 
 who is the bond between christians. Kiss our 
 dear babes. God bless you, my sweet wife." 
 
 The whole term of military service was not 
 long, but it was very hard on the men. They 
 bad to make long marches without the needed 
 facilities for transportation. Their rations 
 were poor, and distributed irregularly. Not 
 being accustomed to such exposure, quite a 
 number of them were attacked with fever and 
 other diseases. Some twenty or thirty were 
 lying sick at one time in an old mill near 
 Hagerstown, which was used as a hospital. 
 
 The Chaplain of the regiment was a favorite 
 from the first. He not only performed the 
 duties of chaplain, but also those of post- 
 master, nurse, comforter, adviser, and keeper 
 of the peace. He frequently walked long dis- 
 tances to e;et the regimental mails. No mother 
 could wait more tenderly on a child, than he 
 did on the sick, in the old mill. He went 
 among the citizens of Hagerstown, and pro- 
 19 
 
218 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 cured delicacies for the sick soldiers. He 
 interested some beuevolent ladies in their 
 behalf, who visited them, and brought them 
 medicines, and suitable articles of food. And 
 when the regiment was ordered away, he 
 remained behind until he saw those who were 
 too ill to accompany it, properly cared for. 
 As if by instinct, he seemed to find out wher- 
 ever there was despondency, fault-finding, 
 or ill-feeling, among the soldiers, and under 
 his treatment the usual evils of camp life 
 seemed to disappear. Says Colonel Wicker- 
 sham, to whom the writer is indebted for much 
 of the foregoing information : " There are those 
 I know, who can date the beginning of their 
 christian life from a talk with our chaplain in 
 front of a tent, or around a camp-fire. Mr. 
 Thorn's discourses in the army were short, 
 pointed, practical, and well suited to the cir- 
 cumstances of those to whom he spoke. His 
 preaching was not only popular with the 
 soldiers of his own regiment, but also with 
 those of other regiments encamped in its 
 vicinity, who frequently came to hear him, 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM. 219 
 
 and the services were often attended by citi- 
 zens, both ladies and gentlemen. On one Sab- 
 bath afternoon in particular, a hundred, or 
 more people, came out to camp from Hagers- 
 town, to attend our religious services, the 
 ladies bringing tea and toast in one hand for 
 those who were sick, and carrying hymn- 
 books and Bibles in the other. I am free to 
 sa}'-, that in all my experience, I never met a 
 man so wholly unselfish, so perfectly willing 
 to make sacrifices for the good of others. 
 Toward myself he ever exhibited all the kind- 
 ness of an affectionate brother." 
 
 The statements made by his friend, the colo- 
 nel of the regiment, were fully confirmed by 
 the officers and soldiers generally. Every one 
 loved the chaplain. His influence seemed 
 almost like magic. A word, a look, a visit, 
 or a gift from him, seemed to win the soldier's 
 heart at once. The love he received was mer- 
 ited, for he counted no toil or pain too great, 
 if he could relieve the sick, or comfort and 
 encourage the desponding. By kind atten- 
 tions, and an example of consistent goodness, 
 
220 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 he made new friends every day. He was not 
 only highly estemeed by his own regiment, 
 but he secured the good-will and admiration 
 of nearly all in the Brigade, for there were few 
 that did not know the chaplain of the 47th. 
 The most profane uttered no oaths in his pres- 
 ence, and confederate prisoners treated him 
 with utmost respect. He sought the spiritual 
 good of friend and foe, and his memory in the 
 hearts of those who were converted by his 
 ministry, or comforted by his loving words, is 
 like the sweetest perfume, and shall never die. 
 Colonel Wickersham, (for several years Prin- 
 cipal of the State Normal School at Millers- 
 ville, and more recentl}^ State Superintendent 
 of Common Schools in Pennsylvania,) became 
 warmly attached to Mr. Thorn. The affection 
 was mutual, and these two friends spent at 
 least a few pleasant hours together after "The 
 cruel war was over." The Principal of the 
 Waynesburg Academy, now Rev. E. W. 
 Wherry, was -with his pastor throughout this 
 term of military service, and bears aftectionate 
 testimony to his faithfulness in all duty. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 221 
 
 Another wlio was warmly attached to him, 
 says, "I never shall forget one occasion of 
 great interest, at the close of which, the men 
 shouted, 'God bless our beloved chaplain,' 
 and then rent the air with their thrice-repeated 
 cheers." 
 
 When abont to be mustered out of service, 
 the company which he had been mainly instru- 
 mental in raising, gave him a large and beau- 
 tiful photograph album, as a token of their 
 appreciation of his singular kindness and 
 fidelity. 
 
 19* 
 
222 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 LAST DAYS AT W A V N E S B C R G . 
 
 After his return from the army, he immedi- 
 ately resumed his work among his own peo- 
 ple. His health was not, good, but his labors 
 were continued without intermission, until 
 he was transferred to another charge. He 
 preached with great faithfulness. There were 
 sad evidences of spiritual declension. There 
 had been much to divert the attention of the 
 people from the great interests of religion. 
 They had passed through troublous times, and 
 some roots of bitterness had sprung up among 
 them. Iniquity abounded, and the love of 
 many had grown cold. He adapted his preach- 
 ing to the condition of the church. He warned, 
 exhorted, and entreated. 
 
 As the result of faithful labor, in public and 
 private, there was a gradual improvement in 
 the condition of the church generally, and in 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 223 
 
 one part of his field there were special indi- 
 cations of the Spirit's presence. "At St. 
 Marks," (formerly an Episcopalian Church,) 
 said the pastor, "we have had many precious 
 meetings, and Jesus was in the midst. His 
 appeals to the unconverted were more than 
 usually solemn. He seemed to have a presen- 
 timent that his work was nearly ended. 
 With the earnestness of one who apprehended 
 the awful wrath of God, he solemnly told his 
 unconverted people of danger, and then 
 besought them, with great affection, and 
 earnest pleadings, to take refuge in Jesus 
 from the gathering storm. There were sev- 
 eral cases of hopeful conversion. He thanked 
 God and took courage." 
 
 Several times during his ministry in 
 Waynesburg, he had been invited to preach 
 as a candidate before other churches which 
 were considered, by those extending the invi- 
 tations, as presenting wider fields of useful- 
 ness. He was called to the church in Colum- 
 bia, Pennsylvania, and there were many con- 
 siderations in favor of the change. But he 
 
22-i MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 did not feel satisfied that it was his duty to go, 
 and the call was declined. He preached a 
 Sabbath in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, after the 
 resignation of Eev. W. W. Eells, and was 
 strongly urged to suffer his name to be presen- 
 ted as a candidate for that charge, but he 
 replied that he believed God still had a work 
 for him in Waynesburg, and discouraged a 
 call, which, if it had been formally made, he 
 would have felt constrained to decline. 
 
 In May, 1865, he was invited to visit the 
 Pine Street Church in St. Louis. This church, 
 for several years, had been served with great 
 acceptance by Rev. Dr. S. B. McPheeters. In 
 consequence of troubles growing out of the 
 condition of the country, Dr. McPheeters' pas- 
 toral relation to that people had been dissolved. 
 Mr. Thom went to St. Louis in the month of 
 July, and preached on three consecu tive Sab- 
 baths. His preaching made so favorable an 
 impression on the people that a unanimous 
 call to the pastorate of that church was exten- 
 ded to him soon after. Before he left the city, 
 he was informed that a call would be given 
 
REV. JOHN C, THOM. 225 
 
 him, and he was asked to consider the subject 
 of removal soon, in anticipation of formal 
 action on the part of the church, as it was 
 very desirable that the vacancy should be 
 filled at an early period. His state of mind in 
 reference to so important a question, may be 
 gathered from letters written to his wife, near 
 the close of his visit. "I don't want to come 
 to St. Louis, unless my Heavenly Father says 
 come^ so clearly and imperatively that there can 
 be no mistaking His will. Ma}'' God direct us. 
 
 During my whole stay here, I have 
 
 been enabled to draw nearer than usual to His 
 throne, and to put more implicit trust in His 
 wisdom and love. May He ever keep us near 
 His side." 
 
 Again he writes: "The issues are with God. 
 He has singularly managed and controlled 
 this whole matter from its beginning. Let 
 Him do with us as seemeth Him good, and 
 blessed be His holy name." 
 
 After his arrival home the acceptance of this 
 call was urged in several letters, written by 
 members of the congregation. He was greatly 
 
226 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 perplexed for a time, and set apart a season of 
 fasting and prayer for Divine direction. " I 
 pray constantly, Lord, do with me as Thou 
 
 wilt. Let me have no will but Thine 
 
 Lord, what Avilt Thou have me to do." When 
 at length persuaded that it was his duty to go 
 to St. Louis, he at once addressed himself to 
 the work of preparation for the removal. One 
 consideration, which had much influence on 
 his mind, was that of health. To one unac- 
 quainted with his peculiar physical condition, 
 it might occur that the change, from a country 
 to a city charge, would be unfavorable in this 
 respect. But his experience at Natchez had 
 been such as to encourage the hope that a 
 warmer climate, and one more removed from 
 the sea, would be highly advantageous. He 
 had never been so well as in the south. The 
 climate of eastern Pennsylvania, subject to 
 sudden changes, and the atmosphere often 
 ladened with saline moisture, had always been 
 detrimental to his health. But the great ques- 
 tion, and one, as he believed, clearly and 
 af&rmatively answered, was, " has the Lord a 
 
■REV. JOHN C. THOM. 227 
 
 work for me to do in St. Louis?" Then I will 
 leave all other interests in his hands. 
 
 He was warmly attached to tlie church in 
 Waynesburg. It was his first charge. It was 
 hard to sunder the ties, so strong and tender, 
 which bound him to that people. He had 
 thought to comfort the aged in their last years, 
 and lay them to rest in the quiet church-yard. 
 He had thought to stay long with his spiritual 
 children, helping them by counsels and pray- 
 ers, to stand fast in the Lord. He had thought, 
 through many years, to care for the children 
 of the church, on whose heads he had sprinkled 
 the waters of baptism. True, there had been 
 times of discouragement, when he felt it might 
 be well for him to go elsewhere. But, like 
 the magnetic needle, which disturbed for a 
 little, soon returns to its rest, and points to the 
 pole, so when the question of removal came, 
 and occasioned anxious inquiries as to duty, it 
 had been, before, only for a brief season, and 
 his heart, clinging to his first love, refused to 
 transfer its alfectious to others. 
 
 But now a voice says: "This is the wav, 
 
228 ;memotr of the 
 
 walk in it," and he must not disobey. Then 
 there was a mingling of opposite emotions. 
 To occupy so important a position as that to 
 which he had been called; to labor for Christ 
 in a centre of so great influence; to enjoy the 
 varied advantages of residence in a pleasant 
 city, — all these, and other considerations, made 
 him thankful in the midst of sorrow. 
 
 One day he was conversing with a friend in 
 reference to the proposed change. He was 
 deeply sincere in his conviction that God was 
 calling him to the west, and as he spake with 
 much earnestness of St. Louis, the pride of the 
 south-west, a controling centre in the valley 
 of the Mississippi, drawing its commerce 
 through great navigable rivers, and railroads 
 extending to the Atlantic, and ere long to 
 reach the Pacific, and alluded to the necessity 
 of Christian effort in that growing city, which, 
 through Gods blessing, would be felt along 
 the radiating lines of trade and travel, his 
 friend felt that it was his duty to go, and 
 hoped that he would become a tower of 
 strength to our beloved church in that western 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 220 
 
 city. But he adds: "I saw how great was the 
 struggle, and how severe the suffering he 
 endured, in separating himself from the people 
 among whom he had labored so long. It was 
 like tearing up by the roots a strong and 
 vigorous oak which years of storm and sun- 
 shine had firmly set in its parent soil ; with it 
 must come much of the deep subsoil imbedded 
 about and beneath its trunk." 
 
 His last sermons were very impressive, and 
 the precious truths he uttered on those sad 
 Sabbaths are treasured in many loving hearts. 
 In a discourse on John xiv. 27, "Peace I 
 leave with you, my peace 1 give unto you," 
 &c., the following passages occur, " There is 
 a pathetic interest attached to the parting of 
 friends. When by long intercourse and mu- 
 tual sympathy we are bound to each other by 
 bonds of strong affection, there is a tenderness 
 experienced in the hour of separation which 
 makes every word thrill through the soul. I 
 have looked through my tears into tear-dim- 
 med eyes, and heard farewells that will ring 
 
 in my ears until my dying day This 
 
 20 
 
230 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 interest is increased and deepened when we 
 feel that the parting is a final one. I have 
 often pictured to myself the sad company that 
 went with Paul a little way, when he started 
 on his^ last journey to Jerusalem, sorrowing 
 most of all at the words which he spake, that 
 they should see his face no more. They were 
 his companions in labor; the heroic women 
 who, in spite of the terrors of the heathen mob, 
 had ministered to his wants, and listened to 
 his teachings; and there too were his spiritual 
 children, as yet mere babes in the word, who 
 needed instruction and care, and who entreated 
 that they might be with him. IIow melting 
 were their appeals when they prayed him not 
 to go! How much more eloquent their silence, 
 when Paul, struggling with his emotions, 
 cried out: 'What mean ye, to weep, and break 
 my heart!'" 
 
 Several weeks before he left Waynesburg 
 there was an unusual amount of sickness 
 among the people. Typhoid fever swept over 
 the community. There were few families it 
 did not enter, and in many households there 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 231 
 
 was at least one vacant chair. There seemed 
 a sickness in the very air. Deep awe settled 
 down on almost every home. The people 
 spoke in subdued tones, and a care-worn or 
 anxious expression sat on every face. It was 
 such a time as must be felt in order to be 
 understood, and being felt, can never be for- 
 gotten. Such were his last days in Waynes- 
 burg. He was much among the sick and 
 dying, and continually pressed with all the 
 care and anxiety incident to removal from a 
 much loved home. He had no time for 
 general visiting, and as many of his people as 
 were able to leave their homes called on him. 
 
 Great was the grief of the church. The 
 sorrow was general. Very touching were the 
 last interviews of pastor and people. Memory 
 reverts to them with tears, and revives the 
 sadness of the parting hours. In one house 
 the sad farewell was spoken at the bed-side 
 of a sick child. After the stricken house- 
 hold had joined their beloved minister in the 
 last prayer he offered in their home-sanctuary, 
 with an almost breakinf^c heart, the mother 
 
232 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 said: "For all I am as a Christian, I am in- 
 debted, under God, to you." And then with 
 deep emotion, spoke of her great unwillingness 
 to have him go to another people. 
 
 In another family was a dying girl. The 
 shadow of death was on her face when he 
 stood beside her bed. She could not see him, 
 but she knew his voice, and that tender touch 
 who could mistake? She raised her thin 
 white hand and laid it in his, saying: "My 
 dear, pastor I do love you, and I love Jesus." 
 This she repeated many times, and then, in 
 faltering accents, invoked God's blessing on 
 the head of the weeping servant of Christ. A 
 little after, she went home to Jesus, and the 
 Good Shepherd more than filled the pastor's 
 place. 
 
 Further on was a sick child, cared for by 
 strangers. There was an unnatural brilliancy 
 in her eye, and her whole appearance was cal- 
 culated to melt the heart in deepest piety. 
 The child thanked him in saddest tones. He 
 wept with her, and then gave her his last 
 benediction. 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 233 
 
 There was another, a woman of peculiar 
 cares, of a meek, quiet, and loving spirit, who 
 walked a long distance to meet her pastor in 
 his own home. Great was her grief to learn 
 that he was absent, but she was assured he 
 would not leave without calling on her. Late 
 in the evening he went to see her. Thej wept 
 together. She said, "I fear we will never 
 meet again." He replied, "I hope we shall 
 have many sweet meetings on earth, but, if 
 God has ordered otherwise, let us prepare to 
 meet in heaven. Tltere are no sad partings." 
 
 Standing on another day, beside a grave, in 
 which the remains of a dear youth had been 
 deposited, the bereaved mother came to him, 
 weeping, and said: "0! Mr. Thom, how can I 
 part with you?" Then she pointed to the 
 grave of her only daughter, and said: "I had 
 to part with her, and must I give you up too?" 
 He looked at her with unspeakable tenderness, 
 took her hand in his, and said: ''God bless 
 
 you, Mrs. W . Look upward." He could 
 
 say no more. It was not long until through 
 
 flowing tears she looked upward to that un- 
 
 20* 
 
234 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 clouded land whither the spirit of her loved 
 pastor had gone. 
 
 There was an aged Christian woman who 
 lived in an humble cottage beyond the moun- 
 tain, several miles away, whom he went to see 
 late at night. This godly woman consecrated 
 her son to Jesus, and to the work of missions, 
 when a helpless babe he lay in the cradle. 
 The offering was accepted. He gave himself 
 to Jesus in early life, and went as a missionary 
 to Africa. One day, when sailing near the 
 coast, he was drowned. When the sad news 
 reached the mother, she wept for a little, then 
 dried her tears, as she thought of the sweet 
 home above, and said: "Well, George is 
 nearer to me in heaven, than he would have 
 been in Africa." With a sad heart the pastor 
 left this dear Christian woman. She was very 
 feeble, and seemed to be quite near the grave. 
 As he rode home, far on in the night, he said 
 to the friend beside him: "I fear I shall never 
 see that good mother in Israel again, till I 
 meet her in the house not made with hands." 
 Contrary to all probability she outlived him, 
 
REV. JOHN C. TIIOM, 235 
 
 and sent messages of sympathy to bis widow, 
 after he had gone home to God. 
 
 The last Sabbath came, and the last sermon 
 was preached, with an open coffin before the 
 pulpit. He told his people he could not 
 preach a farewell discourse, but would address 
 them in a simple gospel sermon, about One 
 who is altogether lovely. He preached from 
 the words: "I have loved thee with an ever- 
 lasting love." (Jeremiah xxi. 3.) Near the 
 close of his sermon, which was but partially 
 written, he made this prophetic remark: "Per- 
 haps on the distant shores of eternity, I shall 
 be permitted to watch for your coming, and 
 wait to welcome you, as one by one, you enter 
 the eternal home." He made a few remarks 
 to his spiritual children, closing with these 
 words: "My little children, love one another, 
 and may that everlasting love, which is all my 
 desire and all my hope, be and abide with you 
 all for ever." This was uttered in a tone so 
 touching, that it will never be forgotten. His 
 last utterance was: "0! my people, my heart's 
 desire and prayer to God is, and long has 
 
236 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 been, that you might all be saved." Then 
 followed the prayer, the solemn hymn, the 
 last benediction, and his work in Waynesburg 
 was ended. 
 
 Ilis last hours were spent with his noble- 
 hearted physician, whose steadfastness was 
 manifested in the dark days that followed, and 
 then, with his wife and boys, he turned away 
 from the only home they were ever permitted 
 to enjoy together. They knew it not, and it 
 was well. 
 
 "We have had our May, my darling, 
 And our roses long ago, 
 And the time of the year is coming, ray dear, 
 For the silent night and the snow! 
 
 "And God is God, ray darling, 
 Of night, as well as of day; 
 We feel and know that we can go, 
 Wherever he leads the way. 
 
 "Ah, God of the night, my darling, 
 Of the night of death so grim: 
 The gate that leads out of life, good wife, 
 Is the gate that leads to Him." 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 237 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DEATH AT ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI. 
 
 Leaving behind him the people for whom he 
 had cared so kindly, and to whom he had 
 preached so faithfully for over seven years; 
 looking for the last time on the home where 
 his boys had been born, where the love-light 
 had never grown dim, but had increased with 
 every trial, he hastened to his work in St. 
 Louis, stopping only a short time at Bedford, 
 and Blairsville, Pennsylvania, leaving his 
 family at the latter place. 
 
 God has said, "Thou knowest not what a 
 day may bring forth." We long to know 
 what lies in the future, and think that if we 
 could foresee the results of causes which we 
 have set in operation, or the consequences of 
 relations we propose to form, then we could 
 advance with a calm, intelligent step, and 
 bring to a desirable consummation the plans 
 
238 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 of life. But there are no available sources of 
 information; no voice in the winds, no pro- 
 phecy in the stars, no foreshadowing of events 
 in the flight of birds, or the course of the tem- 
 pest. Superstition has sought the heights and 
 the depths for the coveted knowledge. His- 
 tory has thought to trace the future by bor- 
 rowing light from the past. Philosophy tells 
 of general laws and secondary causes ; still 
 the veil is unlifted, and the word of God is 
 unchanged: "Ye know not what shall be on 
 the morrow." 
 
 The best matured plan may issue in disap- 
 pointment; the most endearing relation may 
 terminate in an hour, and prospective good 
 may disappear like the mists of the morning. 
 The Christian religion teaches us that God 
 directs our steps, and orders our lot. The 
 Infinite Mind traces the pathway of the future, 
 then spreads His cloud upon it. We must 
 walk by faith, and not by sight. 
 
 Then, too, the dispensations of Providence 
 are often mysterious. There is darkness be- 
 hind, as well as before us. "Thy way is in 
 
KEY. JOHN C. THOM. 239 
 
 the sea, and Thy path in the great waters, and 
 Thy footsteps are not known." It was a sad 
 day to many when Judson and Newell, with 
 their wives, left their native country to labor 
 among the heathen in a far-off land. With a 
 strong conviction of duty, a calm trust in God, 
 and the hope of great usefulness, these first 
 missionaries went forth to their blessed work. 
 A few months pass by, and the sad intelli- 
 gence reaches this country that Harriet Newell 
 is dead ! On the Isle of France, almost in 
 sight of her proposed field of labor, she awaits 
 the morning of the resurrection. How dark 
 the providence! Though in some respects 
 peculiar, this case is a representative of a great 
 multitude. The subject of the present Memoir 
 is one of these. He had scarcely entered on 
 his work in St. Louis when God met him, 
 changed his countenance, and took him away. 
 He commenced his labors in the Pine Street 
 Church, on the first Sabbath of October, 1865. 
 After preaching three Sabbaths, he was sud- 
 denly recalled to Pennsylvania, by the danger- 
 ous illness of his eldest boy. The journey 
 
240 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 was one of great anxiety. He had but little 
 expectation of seeing his child alive. Arrived 
 at a railroad station near Blairsville, a friend 
 met hira with the pleasant intelligence that his 
 little son was much better, and supposed to be 
 out of danger. When he entered the sick 
 chamber, his face was brightened with hope, 
 and his first expression was one of gratitude, 
 "My darling, God is good." His next thought 
 was to secure rest for his wife, by taking upon 
 himself the almost exclusive care of the child. 
 On Sabbath morning he preached for the Rev. 
 Mr. Hill, in the Presbyterian Church. When 
 urged to preach again, at night, his wife 
 remonstrated, on the ground that he needed 
 rest. He replied, with that tenderness of 
 manner which marked his last days, even 
 beyond his habit: "My dear, I feel that I 
 cannot lose this opportunity of speaking for 
 Jesus." 
 
 During the two weeks that he sat at the 
 bedside of his suffering boy, the fresh baptism 
 of the* Holy Spirit, which had evidently 
 descended upon hira, was such as to fill the 
 
RKV. JOHN C. THOM. 241 
 
 mind of his wife with an indefinable dread. 
 She could not analyze her feelings, but she 
 experienced an exceeding longing to be in St. 
 Louis, with all her dear ones around her, and 
 no separation in prospect. A great sorrow 
 was casting its shadow before. 
 
 As soon as it was practicable to leave his 
 family, Mr. Thorn returned to St. Louis. He 
 left Pittsburg on Thursday night, October 
 26th, hoping to reach the end of his journey 
 on Saturday. But detentions on the way 
 delayed his arrival until Sabbath morning. 
 Though very weary, and suffering from the 
 unusual exposures of the journey, he prepared 
 himself for the Sabbath services, and preached 
 both morning and evening. It was observed 
 by many that his health was much impaired. 
 The causes for this were obvious. But, though 
 very unwell, he preached two consecutive Sab- 
 baths, lectured on Wednesday evenings, con- 
 ducted the usual prayer-meeting on Friday 
 evening, and commenced pastoral visitations. 
 On the second Sabbath, his physician. Dr. 
 Marshall, who was also one of the elders of the 
 21 
 
242 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 church, noticing that he was greatly indisposed, 
 urged him to omit the night service. He re- 
 plied, "I will wait until evening, and see how 
 I feel." He went home with his friend, Mr. 
 Ferguson, and rested during the remainder of 
 the day. He was again urged to desist from 
 preaching, but a sense of duty constrained him 
 to make the attempt. He selected for his text, 
 Matt. xxi. 28. Instead of entering the pulpit, 
 he stood on the platform in front of it. He 
 preached with great earnestness and power, 
 and, as he subsequently remarked to Rev. Mr. 
 Niccolls, "with great joy to his own soul." 
 Before pronouncing the benediction, he rose 
 and said: "the rapid throbbings of my pulse 
 admonish me to say one word more." Then 
 he urged his hearers, with great solemnity, to 
 to accept Christ and His great salvation. The 
 scene was strangely impressive. Many thought 
 it ominous of an event which soon followed. 
 His work was done. His last public appeal to 
 sinners was spoken, and he left the Pine Street 
 Church never to enter it again — alive. 
 
 He went that evening to the house of a kind 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 243 
 
 Christian lady, (Mrs. Fcnby) where he remained 
 until, after a painfal illness of three weeks, his 
 spirit went home to heaven. In the family 
 alluded to, he received every attention he 
 needed. Drs. Marshall, and Johnson; the 
 elders of the church, and the ministers of the 
 city, did all they could to alleviate his suffer- 
 ings, and comfort him in his affliction. Sev- 
 eral ladies ministered to him with affectionate 
 sympathy, and unwearied patience. Stricken 
 and grateful hearts cherish the memory of 
 those kind attentions, and invoke heavenly 
 benisons on the heads of those who gave them. 
 The Master says, "I was sick, and ye visited 
 we." And the female servant who cared so 
 faithfully for the dying man, and mourned so 
 bitterly for him when dead, is not forgotten, 
 either here or in heaven. The lowly Saviour, 
 Christ in all, give her a place in the kingdom 
 of His glory ! 
 
 During the early part of his sickness, Mr. 
 Thom was much concerned for his family. 
 They were then with Mrs. Thom's brother. Dr. 
 W. C. Bracken, in Ohio. He was frequently 
 
244 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 heard to say, " What will become of my poor 
 wife!" A dear friend who came every day 
 and arranged his bed, because he fancied it 
 was more comfortable when she made it, 
 urged him to send for Mrs. Thorn. But with 
 his usual self-forgetfulness, he said he could 
 not think of asking her, when so worn with the 
 care of sick children, to undertake the journey. 
 At length, however, he consented. He wished 
 the news of his sickness to be conveyed to 
 her in a manner that would not excite unne- 
 cessary alarm. He also requested a telegram 
 to be sent to Eev. Mr. Nixon, in Indianapolis, 
 asking him to assist her in making the change 
 of cars at that city. Subsequently, in his deli* 
 rium, he was greatly distressed, supposing 
 some great evil had befallen her. She came 
 with her little boys, immediately after she was 
 apprised of his condition. The eldest child 
 was then convalescent, but the younger bro- 
 ther was dangerously ill when they arrived in 
 St. Louis, Mrs. Thom was quite unprepared 
 to find her husband so much reduced. When 
 she entered the sick room, the wonted smile 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 246 
 
 and warm welcome were wanting. There was 
 an expression of intense suffering in his face. 
 He extended his tremulous arms, and em- 
 braced, first, his wife, and then his darling 
 boys. It was several moments before he 
 spoke, and then he said to his wife: "This is a 
 sad, sweet meeting, dear. I have suffered 
 greatly, but I am better now." He then made 
 some inquiries about the journey, and she 
 replied briefly. Then looking at her very 
 earnestly, he said, "You are a brave woman." 
 After a little, he insisted that she should go to 
 another room and rest, which, to gratify him, 
 and yet very reluctantly, she did. 
 
 In the afternoon of the same day he said, "I 
 begin to indulge the hope that I shall live and 
 not die, that I may declare the glory of God. 
 For a while I thought my recovery doubtful." 
 Two days later, on Saturday, Mrs. Thom, who 
 was watching her sick boy in an adjoining 
 room, thought he called her. She hastened to 
 his bed and asked him what he wished. He 
 said he had not called her. "I was just asking- 
 God to make me well." With all the cheer- 
 21* 
 
246 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 fulness she could command, she said, "Will 
 He not doit?" He replied, sadly, "I don't 
 know." 
 
 A great deal of the time he was engaged in 
 prayer, and often spoke of the goodness of 
 God, and the preciousness of Christ. Con- 
 versing with a friend, he referred to his minis- 
 try, and said: "It seems to me that I have 
 new views of the Saviour, and that if I am 
 spared, I can preach as I never before have 
 done." His thoughts were often with the 
 church. He was anxious that the pulpit should 
 be supplied, and suggested plans for promoting 
 the growth, and increasing the efficiency of 
 the church. Often in his delirium, fancying he 
 was in the pulpit, he would rise from his pil- 
 low and entreat those who were near him to 
 love Jesus. Then he would follow his pathetic 
 appeals with prayer, and on one occasion, 
 announced the hymn beginning, 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way 
 His wonders to perform." 
 
 At another time he extended his trembling 
 hands and said, in thrilling accentSj that moved 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 247 
 
 all to tears, " My heart's desire and prayer to 
 God for you all, is that you may be saved" — 
 his parting words to the church at Waynes- 
 burg. 
 
 One day, when Mrs. Thorn entered his room, 
 he said, " I have had refreshing sleep." She 
 did not fully catch his remark, and supposing 
 he had spoken of receiving grateful food from 
 some friend, asked who had sent it. He 
 replied, '* God, for so He giveth His beloved 
 sleep." At night he called Mr. Niccolls, who, 
 at his request, had lain down in an adjoining 
 room; "Come to me, for I am passing through 
 deep waters." Mr. Niccolls talked with him, 
 directed his attention to the Lamb of God, and' 
 then prayed for him. Presently he was com* 
 forted, and said, "Now, go and lie down again, 
 for I am not alone." After this, his friend tells 
 us, "No doubt clouded his mind, no fear dis- 
 turbed the joyful repose of his soul. His faith 
 seemed to lift him up into the Divine presence, 
 and he saw everything from that great centre 
 of the soul's life — Jesus Christ. This was 
 manifested even in the delirium produced by 
 
248 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 his disease. As on some wrecked ship, whose 
 timbers are parting to the blows of the waves, 
 the compass still points true to the north, 
 undisturbed by the ruin around, so his faith, 
 while all else was wild and disordered at the 
 approach of death, looked forth clearly and 
 unfailingly to Him who has conquered 
 death." 
 
 For several days he was very much dis- 
 tressed for his sick child, often ejaculating, 
 , "My poor boy!" — "My poor boy!" When he 
 was told that the physicians entertained no 
 hope of his child's recovery, he seemed, for a 
 moment, to be pleased with the thought of 
 having his boy go with him to heaven. He 
 made an effort to speak, but was only heard 
 to say, " Arms — tender — Shepherd," Then he 
 turned to his wife, with a look of unutterable 
 pity, which it almost seemed must bear her 
 away with him, and said: "But I am so sorry 
 for you." Presently his eldest son was brought 
 to his bedside. "This," said Mrs. Thom, "is 
 your first-born, the son of your love. What 
 is your message to him?" All the unbounded 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 249 
 
 affection of the father beamed from his face as 
 he looked upon his boy. He kissed him, and 
 then said: "Bertie, put your hands on my 
 face." Then turning to the mother, added: 
 "Tell him always to love Jesus." 
 
 One evening the elders, who were watching 
 with him, adjusted his pillow, and he seemed 
 to recognize them. He said, in a distinct 
 voice: "Now I will give you my blessing," 
 and then pronounced upon them such a bene- 
 diction as can only come from the borders of 
 the unseen world. 
 
 On Sabbath morning, the 26th of Novem- 
 ber, his symptoms became more alarming. 
 Then, for the first time, his wife realized his 
 danger, but forced back the wail of agony into 
 her breaking heart, and shut it there. Kind 
 friends said they would watch Avith the sick 
 child, for now it mattered not who ministered 
 to him, as he recognized no one. The hours 
 of Sabbath night crept on, and the life of the 
 minister was waning. "I have no hope," said 
 Mr. Niccolls, "but in the prayer of faith." 
 When the morning came, "No hope," was 
 
250 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 written on every face. During an interval of 
 consciousness, he endeavored to speak to his 
 wife. Mr. Niccolls caught the words and 
 repeated them. " He is telling you how much 
 he has loved you; how much he loves you 
 now ; how happy you have always made him." 
 Then, with a rapturous look, and in clear, 
 loud tones, which all could hear, Mr. Thom 
 added: "But 0! to see Jesus — to see Jesus! — 
 O ! the joy of seeing Jesus!" 
 
 At another time he turned to his wife with 
 a look of inexpressible affection, which startled 
 all in the room. It seemed as if the love of a 
 whole lifetime was concentrated in that one 
 look. He then commended her to Jesus, the 
 ever-living and all-sufficient Friend. 
 
 On Monday morning his breathing became 
 very difficult, and continued so. Not long 
 before he died, Mr. Niccolls asked him if he 
 knew his wife, who stood at his bed-side ; but 
 he made no reply. When asked again who 
 was speaking to him, he could not tell. But 
 when asked, still further, if he knew Christ, he 
 replied with a smile: "O, yes, He is all my 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 251 
 
 salvation, and all my Joy." Shortly after, he 
 uttered aloud an earnest prayer for the church. 
 About midnight Mr. Niccolls again asked him 
 if he knew his wife. He replied, "I do know 
 my sweet wife. Where is she?" She bent 
 over him, and he endeavored to raise his arms, 
 but he could not do it unaided. Mr. Niccolls 
 and Mr. Ferguson assisted him, and he took 
 his wife's face between his hands and tried to 
 speak. Only one word was heard — "heaven." 
 He never spoke again. A little while after 
 Mr. N. said: "Mr. Thom, if you are still 
 trusting in Jesus, raise your hand." His ges- 
 ture told that he was still clinging to the pre- 
 cious Lamb of God. The morning came, and 
 his spirit passed so quietly, and so sweetly 
 away, that the little group in the death- 
 chamber, scarcely knew when it was gone. 
 Presently some one remarked: "He is dead." 
 Just then a bright angel opened the gate of 
 heaven, and said: "Alive forevermore." It 
 was the morning of Tuesday, Nov, 28, 1865. 
 Mr. Niccolls offered a very touching prayer, 
 giving back the soul to God, thanking Him 
 
252 MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 for a life so beautiful and so useful, and the 
 widow calmly closed the eyes which had 
 never looked upon her but in purest love. 
 He died in the 36th year of his age. 
 
 The funeral services were held in the Pine 
 Street Church on the Thursday following. 
 The remains of the departed servant of God 
 were placed in front of the pulpit, the place 
 from which he had spoken his last words as 
 an ambassador of Christ. The coffin was 
 wreathed with flowers entwined by the hands 
 of affection. The sermon was preached by 
 Rev. Samuel J. Niccolls, the warm and stead- 
 fast friend of the deceased. The Rev. Thomas 
 A. Bracken, of Lebanon, Kentucky, (Mrs. 
 Thom's brother,) and Miss Lavinia Thom, (the 
 sister of the departed minister,) were the only 
 relatives who witnessed the sad solemnities of 
 that funeral day. Rev. Drs. Brooks, and An- 
 derson, with Reverends McCook, Mutchmore, 
 and others, participated in the services. The 
 remains were then conveyed to the Bellefon- 
 taine Cemetery, and were interred in a plea- 
 sant spot, dedicated for the purpose b^ Mr. 
 
KEY. JOHN C. THOM, 253 
 
 Whitehill, a venerable and beloved elder of 
 the Pine Street Church. The bereaved con- 
 gregation erected a suitable monument over 
 the grave, on which was engraven the name 
 and age of the deceased, and the simple in- 
 scription, 
 
 SAVED BY grace: 
 
 the theme of his ministry on earth, and the 
 burden of his song in heaven. 
 
 22 
 
S E EM N 
 
 THE RESURRECTION. 
 
 REV. JOHN C. THOM. 
 
The following sermon is introduced as an appropriate 
 conclusion to the Memoir of the author. Though less care- 
 fully prepared than many of his discourses were, yet it will 
 give the reader a very correct idea of his style of sermon- 
 izing, and, at the same time, the precious truth it unfolds 
 may comfort some sorrowing ones, by leading their thoughts 
 onward to the glad morning of the resurrection. 
 
S E 11 M N . 
 
 Acts xxvi. 8. 
 
 WHY SHOULD IT BE THOUGHT A THING INCREDIBLE WITH 
 YOU, THAT GOD SHOULD RAISE THE DEAD? 
 
 There are two books on which the writinsj of 
 God's finger is seen; the books of Nature and 
 Revelation: and these never disagree — one 
 may contain a lesson not found in the other, 
 and so they may be supplementary, but they 
 can never be contradictory — the rotation of 
 the earth, and its revolution around the sun, 
 could never have been learned from the Bible, 
 for they are truths which do not come within 
 the range of its teachings. But the Bible, 
 when properly understood, supports no oppo- 
 sing theory. So also, nature itself could never 
 have taught the fact of an atonement, though 
 it most strongly hints at its necessity. This 
 agreement, of course, results from their common 
 22* 
 
258 SERMON BY THE 
 
 authorship. God cannot contradict himself. 
 But it is also the foundation of an important 
 principle to us. "We are never required to 
 believe anything which is abhorrent to the 
 unbiassed judgment. Those laws and regu- 
 lations which God has written upon our souls 
 are never violated or set at defiance by the 
 laws He has given in the inspired volume. 
 A careful distinction must, however, always 
 be made between what is contradictory to 
 reason, and what is higher than reason, — even 
 between what is improbable, and what is 
 incredible. One, reasoning beforehand, might 
 say there was a strong antecedent improba- 
 bility that Christ would leave the throne of 
 His glory, and come to this world, to be a 
 servant, obedient even unto death, for us. 
 And yet when we remember He is a God of 
 infinite goodness and love, it is not incredible. 
 I can believe it. It is higher than my unaided 
 reason could soar. My reason reaches scarcely 
 beyond the idea of a man laying down his life 
 for his friend. But here is the Son of God 
 dying, while we are yet enemies. But it does 
 
REV. JOHN C, THOM. 259 
 
 IT 
 
 not contradict my reason, for reason itself 
 teaches that the ways of God are higher than 
 those of man. But when I am asked to believe 
 that sprinkling water on a man, without any 
 agency of his own, has completely changed his 
 whole nature, though I see him act and feel 
 just as wickedly as before; or, that by a few 
 words of a priest, a piece of bread has been 
 changed into the body, and soul, and divinity 
 of Christ, though I see, and feel, and taste it 
 still to be bread, just as it was before, it is con- 
 tradictory to reason, and I must refuse my 
 credence. 
 
 It is true that many things are pronounced 
 to be incredible by the advocates of a one-sided 
 philosophy, which are clearly reasonable, as 
 for example, that the sins of a finite creation 
 should be punished with suffering in this life, 
 and with endless misery in the life to come. But 
 a clearly revealed truth cannot be set aside upon 
 such ex parte j udgment. The incendiary, doubt- 
 less, thinks it unreasonable that the act of a 
 moment should be punished with ten years of 
 hard labor; yet the judge does not hesitate in 
 
260 SERMON BY THE 
 
 his sentence, and be is fully borne out by the 
 judgment of an enlightened community. The 
 Apostle recognizes this great principle in his 
 defence before Festus and Agrippa, and bases 
 all his claims to be heard, upon the credibility 
 of the doctrine he was ready to die to defend — 
 " why should it be thought a thing incredible 
 with you, that God should raise the dead?" If 
 it be incredible, I claim no hearing, but if it 
 be not contradictory to reason, I have such 
 strong assurance of its truth, that I, like the 
 saints of old, am ready to be tortured, not 
 accepting deliverance, in hope of a better re- 
 surrection, and would to God that you all were 
 altogether such as I am, except these bonds. 
 My object, to-day, is to establish the credibil- 
 ity of the doctrine of the resurrection, and its 
 consequent claims upon our belief. 
 
 By resurrection, we do not mean that spi- 
 ritual restoration, which is sometimes called 
 by that name ; for Paul taught that both the 
 just and the unjust should be raised from the 
 dead. Nor do we mean simply the appearance, 
 and existence of the soul, in a future world; 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM, 261 
 
 for as we hold that the soul never loses its 
 consciousness — is never dead — it cannot pro- 
 perly be said to be raised. But we mean the 
 resuscitation and resurrection of the body, to 
 be united again with the disembodied spirit, 
 to enjoy or suffer the just recompense of the 
 deeds done on the earth. The very first ground 
 of credibility is implied in the text. It is a 
 work of God. It is not claimed that these 
 bodies, which seem so subject to disease, 
 decay, and death, contain an inherent power of 
 reconstruction ; that after their long sleep in the 
 dust they shall, of themselves, come, atom to 
 atom, and bone to bone, shake off the slumber 
 of the grave, and arise. That would indeed 
 be incredible. But the case is altogether dif- 
 ferent when it is declared that all this is 
 accomplished by the power of God. It is not 
 incredible, because God clearly has power 
 sufficient to accomplish it. He who gathered 
 our dust at the beginning, and formed all this 
 strange machinery of nerves and muscles, 
 bones and sinews, veins and arteries, and then 
 caused the lungs to breathe, the heart to beat. 
 
262 SERMON BY THE 
 
 and the vital current to flo^Y, without a mo- 
 ment's intermission, all through these years ; 
 He is able to reconstruct and reanimate the 
 fabric, after he has allowed it to fall to decay. 
 We know that nothing short of Divine power 
 can accomplish it. God's eye follows every 
 human being through all the streets and lanes 
 of life; and let them make the pillow for their 
 last sleep in the wilds of the unbroken forest, 
 in the dens and caves of the earth, — amid the 
 coral reefs, and unknown habitations of the 
 deep blue sea; — or let them send forth the 
 spirit amid the roar and crackling of devour- 
 ing fire, and know when they all are 
 
 "Flung to the heedless winds 
 
 And scattered to the blast, 
 
 Their ashes can be watched, 
 
 And gathered at the last," 
 
 and earth and sea, and death and hell, be com- 
 pelled to give up their dead. But it may be 
 urged, though God be clearly able to raise 
 the body, there is no sufficient reason why he 
 should do so. There are many things which 
 God is able to do, which we cannot believe he 
 
REV. JOHN' C. TIIOM. 263 
 
 would do without suflicicnt motive. For 
 example, God can cast all the angels out of 
 heaven, or destroy all men from the earth, but 
 we cannot believe he will do so, without any 
 reason. So, if any attribute of the Divine 
 nature is violated by it, we cannot believe that 
 God will raise the dead. 
 
 I remark again, therefore, that it is not 
 incredible, because it is in accordance with the 
 luisdom of God. God does all his works for 
 the highest possible ends. To say that any- 
 thing could have a higher or better object 
 than it has, would be to call in question the 
 wisdom and goodness of the Creator. Now, 
 does it accord with those ideas which God has 
 given us of wisdom, that such a strange, com- 
 pound being, should be called from the dust of 
 the earth, and clothed with the image of his 
 Creator, to spend his life like a tale that is told, 
 and then lie down in the grave and be seen no 
 more ? " What a piece of work is a man ! How 
 noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in 
 form and moving how express and admirable! 
 in action, how like an angel ! in apprehen- 
 
2t)4 SERMON BY THE 
 
 sion, how like a God! the beauty of the world! 
 the paragon of animals!" shall this noble 
 structure fall so soon into irretrievable decay? 
 Shall this temple endure but threescore years 
 and ten, and then be cast down, and not one 
 stone be left upon another? Shall this human 
 face divine, the mirror of a thousand varied 
 thoughts, be darkened by an eternal night? 
 Shall this human frame become the cadaverous 
 corpse, the reeking feast of corruption and the 
 worm, the naked skeleton, the silent dust, and 
 then nothing? Why, if this be all, the struc- 
 tures of men have outlived a hundred genera- 
 tions. Shall the pyramids, erected like ant- 
 hills, by the toil of myriads of men, outlast, 
 for untold ages, their God-built builders? As 
 far as we are informed, man is an order of 
 beings unknown elsewhere in the universe — a 
 compound of body and spirit, midway between 
 earth and heaven. Now, in the beautiful 
 variety of God's creation, shall the important 
 link be wanting? Shall man, as such, be 
 blotted out of existence, his spirit go into the 
 ranks of the angels, and his body fall into 
 
•REV, JOHN C. THOM. 205 
 
 unformed and shapeless matter? or shall this 
 noble structure be rebuilt, this corruptible put 
 on incorruption, and this mortal put on immor- 
 tality, and ten thousand thousand redeemed 
 souls, not unclothed, but clothed upon with 
 glorious bodies, stand in the armies of heaven, 
 and shout God's praises for ever and ever? 
 Why should it be thought a thing incredible 
 with you, that God should raise the dead? 
 
 It is also agreeable to the justice of God. 
 Not only does the soul transgress the law 
 of God, but the body is also an instrument of 
 sin. Not only is the spirit of God's children 
 obedient to his commands; they serve him 
 with their bodies and spirits, which are the 
 Lord's. Now, is it not reasonable that the 
 body shall be partaker of suffering or enjoy- 
 ment in the world to come? In this world 
 the body, as well as the soul, endures the con- 
 sequences of sin. While the soul languishes 
 and mourns, the body, also, is broken and 
 decrepit. Shall this even handed justice cease 
 in the future ordinances of God? When 
 Cranmer came to the stake, he thought his 
 23 
 
266 SERMON BY THE 
 
 remorse and penitence of soul were not, alone, 
 sufficient punishment for his sin, but he thrust 
 his right-hand, which had signed his recanta- 
 tion, into the scorching fire till it was con- 
 sumed. Shall not the right hand of forgery, 
 of rapine, and murder, the tongue of deceit, 
 and the body of voluptuousness and debauch- 
 ery, suffer with the soul which they served as 
 the instruments of iniquity? As the whole 
 man, body and soul, is the criminal here, shall 
 not the whole man, body and soul, suffer the 
 penalty? We know not what that penalty 
 may be, and we have no right to speculate. 
 We know it will be unspeakably dreadful, and 
 we have no right to expect that any part of 
 our being, body or soul, will escape the ven- 
 geance of an outraged Deity. It is reasonable, 
 on account of his justice, that God should raise 
 the dead. 
 
 Still further, the mercy of God is interested 
 in the resurrection of man. We enjoy many 
 pleasures in this world. Some of them are 
 high and holy. But are these all which the 
 boundless love of our Father in heaven has 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 267 
 
 prepared for those who love him? Are these 
 the joys which eye hath not seen, nor ear 
 heard, nor mind conceived? Nay, boundless 
 goodness must have a wider range, a higher 
 height, and a deeper depth. But it may be 
 said, these future enjoyments belong to the 
 soul alone. In the first place, that supposes 
 man to be a totally different being, in the 
 world to come; for all the enjoyments we have 
 in our souls in this world, come directly, or 
 indirectly, through the bodily senses. We 
 learn even the word of God, the way of salva- 
 tion, through the eyes and ears of the fleshly 
 body, and we pray and praise with our lips of 
 clay. It is a popular idea that these dull clods 
 impede the action of the spirit, and we would 
 be better off' without them. It is true that 
 this body is corrupted and defaced by sin. 
 But it is a glorious body still. It was built at 
 first by the hand of God himself, for high and 
 holy purposes, and wrecked as it is, it is still 
 the instrument, and, as far as we can see, almost 
 the only instrument, through which impres- 
 sions are made upon the soul, or through 
 
268 SERMON BY THE 
 
 which the soul acts upon the world without; 
 and so, then, instead of being better ofif with- 
 out the body, if stripped of it, we would lose 
 the great means of our power and enjoyment. 
 The spirits of the just will be happy in their 
 disembodied state, but they will not be perfect 
 till reunited, and both soul and body are glo- 
 rified together. And even were this not so, 
 shall the bodies of the children of God be 
 deprived in heaven of all those enjoyments 
 which they experience here? Shall the thrill 
 of health .and vigor be felt no more? Shall 
 the soft breath of the evening breeze never 
 kiss the immortal cheek? Shall the hand no 
 more feel the grasp of pure affection, when in 
 the great assembly we stand in high raptures 
 around the throne of our glorified Eedeemer? 
 When contemplating the prison-house of Eter- 
 nal Justice we shrink back, overawed by the 
 dread secrecy of God, but when he has clearly 
 revealed that the treasure of his everlasting 
 love will be opened to the redeemed from 
 among men, is it incredible that the body 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 269 
 
 should be raised, that the whole man, body 
 and soul, should rejoice together? 
 
 As I have shown that the resurrection is 
 not incredible as an act of God's power, and 
 demanded by his attributes, so I might also 
 show it is not opposed to the feelings and 
 instincts God has given to man. Why do we 
 adorn the graves of friends? Why, like Mary, 
 do we go and weep there ? Why do we shrink 
 back, often in spite of all our philosophy, from 
 being torn to pieces after our death, or from 
 lying in an unknown grave? Why do we 
 rejoice to think our couch will be strewed 
 with flowers, and watered with tears? It is 
 because God has taught us that even our dead 
 bodies are sacred, are held in reserve for a 
 future life, and we cannot unteach ourselves, 
 try as we may. Why is it, when we think of 
 heaven, we think of the redeemed as well as 
 of the Eedeemer, and expect to see them there? 
 I had a dear young friend in our neighboring 
 city. She died of a lingering disease. It was 
 a glorious sight to see that pure young saint 
 putting off, day by day, the earthly house, and 
 23* 
 
270 SERMON BY THE 
 
 growing more and more like heaven. She 
 had given her short life to the service of her 
 Saviour, and now that she felt his hand lead- 
 ing her gently down into the cold river, there 
 was no starting back, no fear: it was the 
 unshrinking step of the child which feels its 
 father's arras around it. But as she grew 
 weaker, and the gate of heaven seemed to be 
 nearer, and she saw the multitude which no 
 man can number, around the throne of God, 
 one thought oppressed her: might not her 
 mother be separated from her side, and be lost 
 to her among so many? After telling her 
 mother her misgiving, she said, "Mother, when 
 you die, be buried by my side, and when 
 Jesus comes, we will rise together. I will 
 take your hand, and together we will go to 
 glory, and I will never, never let you go." 
 Call it not a childish fancy. Call it not supersti- 
 tion. There is something in every good man's 
 heart, which responds to such a feeling. It is 
 God saying to us, that "these dead bodies 
 shall arise again." "Awake and sing, ye that 
 dwell in the dust, for thy dew is as the dew of 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 271 
 
 herbs, and the earth shall cast out her dead." 
 I might also add, there are a thousand analo- 
 gies in nature which seem strongly to hint at 
 a resurrection. But the truth seems so strong, 
 and clear, and glorious, I have no heart for 
 any more analogies. You have often heard 
 them presented. The crawling worm, which 
 seems to be lifeless for a while, bursts its cere- 
 ments, and comes forth in a form of beauty, 
 and floats away upon golden wings. The tree, 
 stripped of its foliage, stands bare, and appa- 
 rently lifeless, amid the storms of winter, but 
 it buds and blooms in the spring. The seed, 
 cast into its grave, springs up, and brings 
 forth much fruit. Even the little brook which 
 goes sparkling through your green fields, is 
 consumed away by the drought of summer, 
 but it is not lost. It goes to the clouds of 
 heaven, and returns again upon the earth. Of 
 all these you have heard, and they teach us 
 that it is not a thing incredible that God 
 should raise the dead. 
 
 It is true, that God's power is clearly suffi- 
 cient to raise the dead. It is true, that God's 
 
272 SERMON BY THE 
 
 wisdom, and justice, and goodness, seem to 
 demand the resurrection. It is true, that 
 man's instincts and desires, given him bj his 
 Maker, point to a resurrection. It is true, 
 there are ten thousand analogies in nature, 
 which indicate a resurrection. All this is 
 true; but all this is not enough, when hell 
 rolls beneath us; "for if the dead rise not, then 
 is not Christ raised ; and if Christ be not raised, 
 your faith is vain, ye are yet in your sins; and 
 they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are 
 perished." God has not, therefore, left us with 
 an uncertain light. He has cast the full blaze 
 of his word upon this momentous subject, so 
 that he that runs may read. Here the strife is 
 ended, our doubts are set at rest, and life and 
 immortality clearly brought to light. It is 
 difficult to select proofs from the Bible, when 
 the whole volume takes a resurrection for 
 granted. Job, one of the most ancient of the 
 worthies, triumphed over all his temptations 
 and sufferings by this reflection: whatever 
 might befall him here, even though he should 
 be crushed to the grave, and devoured by cor- 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 273 
 
 ruption, be should sleep in the dust but a little 
 while. Stand back, ye enemies! The day of 
 your triumph will soon be over. "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 behold, and 
 not another, though my reins be consumed 
 within me." David's view was no less clear. 
 Even when the wicked oppressed him, and 
 his deadly enemies compassed him about, he 
 says, "My heart is glad, and my glory re- 
 joiceth; ray flesh also shall rest in hope." 
 " As for me, I will behold thy face in right- 
 eousness : I shall be satisfied, when I awake 
 with thy likeness." Isaiah saw God roll 
 back the covering cast over all people, and 
 swallow up death in victory. Ezekiel saw 
 the great multitude of dead, separated and 
 scattered upon the earth, and yet at the breath 
 of God's Spirit, they came, bone to his bone, 
 and the dead arose and lived, an exceeding 
 great army. Daniel says, " Many of them that 
 
274 SERMON BY THE 
 
 sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, 
 some to everlasting life, and some to shame 
 and everlasting contempt." Hosea saw the 
 prison of the grave invaded, and the power 
 of death broken; he heard God's voice: "I 
 will ransom them from the power of the 
 grave; I will redeem them from death; O 
 death, I will be thy plagues! O grave, I will 
 be thy destruction !" Paul himself applies this 
 language to the resurrection, and as he kindles 
 at the glorious prospect, he bursts out, "0 
 death, where is thy sting? O grave, where 
 is thy victory?" When we come to the New 
 Testament, the subject is even more clearly 
 brought out. God is declared to be the God 
 of those who went into the grave two thou- 
 sand years before, yet he is not the God of the 
 dead, but of the living. Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob were not dead, they were but sleeping. 
 "Marvel not at this," says Christ, "for the hour 
 is coming in the which all that are in the grave 
 shall hear his voice, and shall come forth." 
 " I am the resurrection and the life." Nay, the 
 scene itself is described. Christ, as Judge and 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 275 
 
 King, is seated upon the throne. The trumpet 
 sounds. The dead awake. They shake oft" 
 the clods of the grave, and come forth. The 
 holy angels gather the vast assembly around 
 the throne, and they stand, according to their 
 merit, at the right hand and the left. 
 
 The apostles, we are told again and again, 
 preached Jesus, and the resurrection of the 
 dead. Paul professedly discusses the subject 
 in an entire chapter, the xv. of 1 Corinthians. 
 And John, after he had pointed forward to it, 
 through the whole of the Apocalypse, when 
 he came toward the close, and was about to 
 finish the Book of inspiration, and seal it for 
 ever, leaves these words ringing upon our 
 ears, among the last of inspired utterances. 
 He, the last survivor, looks back over the 
 blood-stained graves of all the apostles, and 
 multitudes of the saints of the Lord, who had 
 been crucified, and burnt, and stoned, and 
 sawn asunder, and then he glanced forward to 
 their reward. "I saw," says he, "the dead, 
 small and great, stand before God ; and the 
 books were opened; and the dead were judged 
 
276 SERMON BY THE 
 
 out of those thins^s 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 delivered up the dead which were in 
 them." 
 
 Do we need more assurance? Is it still a 
 vague and uncertaia thing? Christ, in pity 
 for our weakness, has done even more. He 
 has shown his power over death. He called 
 the sleeping, and they awoke; and he himself, 
 when he was bound with the chains of death, 
 and sealed up in the grave, conquered the con- 
 queror upon his throne. He rose, he burst 
 the bands of death, and triumphed over the 
 grave! Now, since our glorious Head has 
 ascended upon high, we also shall be raised up. 
 These were the considerations which filled the 
 mind of Paul, when he stood so fearlessly, 
 chained as he was, in the presence of Festus 
 and Agrippa. What to him were the chain, 
 and the dungeon, and the rack, and the cross 
 itself, when he knew that his bruised, and 
 lashed, and scarred body, would be raised a 
 glorious body, and every mark of the conflict 
 
REV. JOHN C. THOM. 277 
 
 would be a badge of honor? What to him 
 was the august presence of governors and 
 kings, when he knew he should stand in the 
 presence of the hosts of heaven, and the Judge 
 of the quick and dead? None of these 
 things moved him, neither did he count his 
 life dear to himself, so that he might finish his 
 course with joy. 
 
 My dear friends, does this glorious truth 
 seem a reality to you? Is the grave a place 
 of rest, and death, and sleep, and are all the 
 interests of this short life clustered around the 
 time of waking? Then what matters the toils 
 and troubles of to-day? What matters it, if 
 we be poor and despised? When we awake, 
 and come forth to glory, and honor, and 
 eternal life, these griefs shall all be forgotten. 
 Let me be a sufferer, let me be a beggar, let 
 me be a slave in this short hour of my exist- 
 ence, if I may thus obtain a better resurrec- 
 tion. But you that live at ease, and lay up 
 no treasure against the time to come, what a 
 miserable awaking will that be? How you 
 will cling to your coffins, and hug the walls of 
 24 
 
278 SERMON. 
 
 the grave! ITow you Avill bide your bead in 
 the dust, and long to cover yourself again 
 Avitb corruption, but in vain! No marble 
 monument, no towering pyramid, no, not tbe 
 Alps or Andes, heaped upon your breast, can 
 hold you in your tomb. You, too, shall hear 
 the voice of God and live. Oh, turn now! Fly 
 to the Saviour! Give him your service. Fight 
 the good fight. Bespeak your crown, and 
 your throne. Then shall your heart be glad, 
 and your glory rejoice. Your flesh, also, shall 
 rest in hope. Then shall you also be satisfied 
 when you awake, not in this decrepit, dis- 
 eased, and dying form, but in the glorious 
 likeness of the Son of God. 
 
Action of the Ghiuxh at St. Louis, on the death 
 of the Kev. John C. Thom. 
 
 At a regular convened meeting of the Con- 
 gregation of Pine Street Presbyterian Church, 
 on January 2d, 1866, the following preamble 
 and resolutions were unanimously adopted: 
 
 In the mysterious providence of God, we 
 are called to mourn the death of Rev. J. C. 
 Thom, pastor elect of this church, who was 
 removed from us on the 28th day of Novem- 
 ber, 1865. 
 
 In view of this unexpected affliction, it be- 
 comes us to express our sense of the great loss 
 we have sustained, and our recognition of the 
 Almighty's hand in His strange dealings with 
 our church, already so sorely tried. 
 
 When, after a long season of suffering and 
 calamity, Brother Thom came among us to 
 minister to our spiritual wants, we hailed his 
 arrival as the dawn of a brighter day for our 
 dejected and scattered people. We fondly 
 hoped that with the blessing of God attending 
 his prudent and conciliatory conduct, his fer- 
 
280 
 
 vent piety, and liis eminent pulpit talents, that 
 he would soon build up our waste places, and 
 refresh our thirsty spirits with the "stream 
 that maketh glad the city of God." But alas! 
 after preaching to us only four Sabbaths, the 
 summons came, which called him from the 
 labors of earth to the rest of heaven. 
 
 We are thus again left as a flock without a 
 shepherd, and with earnest entreaty lift up our 
 cry to the Great Head of the Church, for the 
 guidance of His Spirit, and for the abundant 
 communications of His grace in the darkness 
 of this sad dispensation. 
 
 Therefore, be it Resolved, 
 
 First. That as a church we deserve the 
 correction we have received from our heavenly 
 Father, and while submitting to His will, we 
 fervently pray that the chastening may work 
 out the peaceable fruits of righteousness to all 
 the members of this communion. 
 
 Second. Feeling that the Lord has a con- 
 troversy with us, because of our many sins, 
 and especially because of the dissensions and 
 strifes which have rent the bosom of the 
 
281 
 
 church, we would humble ourselves in His 
 Holy presence; and joining hands and hearts 
 over the grave of our departed pastor, pledge 
 ourselves, if it be possible, as much as lieth in 
 us to live peaceably with all men, and hence- 
 forth to work together in harmony and 
 brotlierly love for the advancement of the 
 Kedeemer's kingdom. 
 
 Third. Our gratitude is due to Almighty 
 God for the deep interest which our deceased 
 brother felt in our welfare, and for the loving 
 supplications which ascended even from his 
 dying bed in our behalf. 
 
 Fourth. We desire to express our profound 
 sympathy with his bereaved widow, and father- 
 less children, and most tenderly commend 
 them to the grace of the compassionate 
 Saviour, who has said, "I will never leave 
 thee nor forsake thee." 
 
 Rev. James H. Brookes, D. D., 
 Moderator. 
 James McQ. Douglas, Secretary. 
 
 Sl. Louis, January 2d, 1866. 
 
282 
 
 Resolutions of the Presbytery of Donegal on the 
 death of the Rev. John C. Thom. April 12, 
 1866. 
 
 Whereas^ This Presbytery has learned that 
 the Rev. John C. Thora has departed this life, 
 since its last meeting, and although, not a 
 member of this Presbytery at the time of his 
 decease, yet so short a time having elapsed 
 from leaving us, until he was called away, we 
 consider it appropriate for us, as a Presbytery, 
 to take notice of the death of one who for six 
 years was a member of our body; and 
 
 Whereas, While a member of this Presby- 
 tery he endeared himself to us by his courte- 
 ous, obliging, and benevolent demeanor, his 
 uprightness and consistency, his diligence in 
 attendance, and in the performance of all the 
 duties required of him, his zeal for our Master, 
 and his love to all our Master's followers; and 
 
 Whereas, We recognize in our deceased 
 brother one well qualified by natural gifts, by 
 
283 
 
 education, and by the graces of the Holy 
 Spirit, for the work of the ministry; and do 
 now recognize in his death, though we believe 
 it was gain to him, a great loss to ourselves, 
 his family, the church to which he for a short 
 time ministered, and to the whole church; 
 therefore, be it 
 
 Resolved, That we tender our sympathy to 
 his sadl}^ bereaved family ; and as our covenant 
 God is faithful, and has promised to be the 
 God of his people and their seed, we trust and 
 pray that our Father in heaven will be a 
 husband to the widow, and a father to the 
 fatherless. 
 
 Resolved, That the church to which our 
 deceased brother was called to minister, and 
 which was so soon deprived of one who, by 
 the blessing of God on his labors, was so 
 eminently fitted to build them up in faith, 
 holiness, and peace, and heal all their divisions, 
 has our sincere sympathy in their bereave- 
 ment, and that our prayer is, that the great 
 Head of the Church may soon give them a 
 
284 
 
 pastor to succeed him whom he has so sud- 
 denly removed from among them. 
 
 Resolved, That copies of these resolutions be 
 sent for publication to the Presbyterian and 
 Presbyterian Banner; and also to the widow of 
 the deceased. 
 
 John Farquhar, 
 
 Stated Clerk of Presbytery of Donej^al. 
 
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