their pastor. But he was destined to spend his life in another sphere. Declining a call to a church in Hagerstown, Maryland, at the same time, he was soon after invited to assume the pastoral care of the Associate Reformed Church, Newburgh, N. Y. This invitation he accepted, and was ordained to the gospel ministry and installed pastor, March 14, 1823. His pastorate of this church covered period of 41 years, and was nearly as long as the united pastorates of his four predecessors.

a

The society, though one of the oldest in Newburgh, was by no means large when he became its pastor, but from that time it steadily advanced in numbers, and has become the mother of two other congregations.

In 1829, the Seminary, which had been suspended in New York city for some years, was revived, established at Newburgh, and Dr. McCarrell was chosen Professor of Theology by the Associate Reformed Synod of New York. He held the office until a few years before his death, and during that period he had some seventy young men under his care, all of whom ever felt for him the warmest affection because of his rare goodness in every sense of that word, and the highest respect for his intellectual abilities.

As a preacher, he had not a particle of sensationalism about him. In the pulpit he was wholly free from all mannerism, and usually calm, yet occasionally he would rise to a high strain of pa

thetic eloquence, showing what a latent power

there was in the man.

He had a profound rever-
The creed he professed was

ence for sacred things.
the creed he held with his whole heart, and from
which he never varied. And he had the courage of
his convictions, as he showed by preaching his ser-
mons on "Bible Temperance" (which subjected him
to not a little adverse criticism).

For the Bible he ever felt and manifested the deepest reverence. It was to him emphatically the very voice of the living God, the supreme standard of faith and manners. He recognized no other authority that could be compared with this, deeming it one to which enlightened reason and true science would implicitly bow. For many years he preached its precious truths with an ever-growing delight in them, and in the work of making them known to others.

Dr. McCarrell died at his home in Newburgh, March 28, 1864. He had been able to preach in his own pulpit, until within three weeks of his decease. He was mercifully spared the endurance of acute physical pain during his last illness. His mental strength was unabated, and at last he peacefully fell asleep in the Lord, in the 68th year of his age.

The funeral took place, on Friday, April 1st. The services at the house were conducted by the Rev. Dr. Brown, of St. George's Episcopal Church, (the neighbor and friend of the deceased for many years), and the Rev. Dr. Krebs, of New York. The

services in the church were conducted by the Rev. Joseph Kimball of Fishkill, Rev. Alexander Jace of Newburgh, Rev. H. Mandeville of the Reformed Dutch Church of Newburgh, Rev. Dr. Snodgrass (a classmate in college), and Rev. Dr. Forsyth of Newburgh.

It ought also to be mentioned as a fact worthy of note that, among those who followed the body of Dr. McCarrell to the grave, was Father Reilly, the Roman Catholic priest, a young man of rare intelligence. He asked for himself the privilege of walking in procession with the other clergy of the town. He wished to show this mark of respect for one with whom in life he had held pleasant intercourse, and with whom he had often engaged in argument concerning the great problems of life.

The following tribute to the memory of the late Dr. McCarrell was written by Rev. Alexander B. Jace, who spent one year in the Theological Seminary at Newburgh (having received his previous education in Scotland):

Another great and good man, abiit ad plures, has gone over to the majority and joined the nations of the dead. Now that the funeral is over, perhaps you will suffer me to bring one stone and lay it by his grave, leaving other hands to polish it and put it in its rightful place.

When I first knew the doctor it was when the fruit of all that he had learned, and fashioned, and felt, was ripening in the light of immortality, and God's own hand was opening to receive it. At that time I was waiting on his instructions at the Semnary, and I speak not only for myself, but for my fellow-students, when I thankfully acknowledge how much our spiritual life was deepened by our intercourse with him. For the present, in order to condense my remarks, I shall speak of him as a preacher, a professor, and a Christian.

For several years previous to my acquaintance with him, his style of preaching had somewhat altered. He had left the more recondite themes to which his researches, as a professor, had conducted him, and confined himself more particularly to the exposition of those grand spiritual truths which were his strength and joy, and just in proportion as he drew less from the material of his studies, and more from the spirit of faith by which he was sustained, he spoke with greater unction and directness. As I recall the hallowed impression of these Sabbath services (the memory of which yet lingers with me), I would briefly state some of the causes of that solemn effect which his discourses would produce.

First of all, there was a wonderful individuality about his style of preaching, so much so, that when his sermons were given to the world, you could always tell the author without looking at the titlepage.

This was not in consequence of any oft-used illustrations, any sudden sweep of sentences, any of that epigrammatic verbiage, or misplacement of words, or tricks or feats of language, for which some preachers are distinguished. What chiefly struck the hearer was his extraordinary command of Scripture, and the affluence of similitude which he gathered from this source. Sentence after sentence closely interlaced with scriptural phraseology would fall from his lips, clear as crystal, revealing his thoughts with distinctness, and riveting the attention of his hearers by their purity and energy. You can readily imagine that this was peculiarly attractive to those whose hearts were imbued with religious feeling, and whose study of the Bible had begun in the simplicity of childhood, when it was felt to be indeed divine. And when it was considered that the work was done so easily, so freely, and so naturally, it left a profound impression of his power.

In the pulpit the doctor's manner was singularly quiet. One finger of his right hand occasionally extended, and moving with the rise and fall of successive sentences, was almost the only action in which he indulged. Neither did his voice rise and swell in deep passionate excitement. Not that his preaching was void of feeling, but his feeling seldom, if ever, grew to the vehemence of passion. Still, although his manner was so quiet, his power over his audience was great. The tones of his