tered itwould persist in taking his stand below when he preached, or otherwise assisted in public worship. As the old pulpit, after its removal, stood awhile by the side or back of the house, he was more than once seen leaning against it in meditative posture, while a tear might be observed coursing its way down his aged cheek. He especially disliked the two flights of steps to the new pulpit, and said the Devil went up one pair, while the preacher ascended the other.*

* The Doctor was no patron or friend of the more ambitious improvements of modern times. When Gen. Morgan removed from Princeton, N. J., into the bounds of Chartiers congregation, at an early period, a part of his large and fashionable family were conveyed to the church in a fine carriage. Such a thing was quite an exciting event amongst these plain, rural people. The Doctor was annoyed, perhaps, more by the diverted attention of the people, than by the appearance of the carriage itself, and did not omit in the course of his sermon to intimate that people might travel on the broad road in fine carriages, as well as on horseback, or on foot. He was unfortunate in giving offence to the party concerned, and he lost his influence with this highly respectable family.

When the first umbrella made its appearance at Chartiers, it was in the hands of a lady, who passed near where the Doctor was standing conversing with others. He enquired, "What woman was that with a petticoat wrapped round a stick?" It is believed that he was among the last who adopted the use of that modern convenience. It may, perhaps, be known to few, that this article, which we no longer consider a luxury, but an indispensable means of comfort and protection, was, not thirty years before, first seen in the streets of London in the hands of the celebrated philanthropist-merchant, Jonas Hanway, and excited universal surprise and much derision, even from the nobility and gentry of England. See Frost's Lives of Eminent Christians, p. 470.

To show that our notions of luxury and effeminacy are altogether conventional, Dr. Miller, of Princeton, told us, in our seminary days, of a Highland Chieftain, who, with his son, being overtaken by night amongst the bleak mountains of Scotland, sought a place on the south side of a hill to bivouack, and prepared it, as well as they could, by removing the snow from the ground. The father went aside to hunt a stone or a piece of a rock for a pillow; on his return, finding that his son had rolled up a snow-ball for this purpose, and had already lain down, wrapped in his tartan of plaid, he kicked the snow-ball from

There are a few other incidents in his history, of minor importance. But we pass them over; and before we hasten to the closing scenes of his life, we must briefly speak of him as an Old School Presbyterian, as a preacher, and as a theological instructor.

As to the position which Dr. M'Millan held, in view of the rising conflict between the Old and New School, nothing can be more clearly proved, than that his sympathies were thoroughly with the Old School, till the day of his death. It may suffice, however, to give one extract from his farewell sermon to his Presbytery, and as it proved, in some measure, to the whole Presbyterian Church.

"At the present day," says this departed saint, "I believe that the Church is in greater danger from those who style themselves peace-men, than from all the errors that abound in her; for those generally cast their weight into the scale of the errorists, and thereby not only countenance and encourage them in their errors, but weaken the hands of those who are laboring for the peace and purity of the Church. And it is my serious opinion, that our Church will never have peace and purity in union, until it is purged, by discipline, of the false doctrines which defile it, and the false measures which distract it."

"Here is our opinion," said Dr. Green, quoting the above passage in his December Number of the Advocate, for 1833, "expressed with admirable simplicity and perspicuity." Yes, Dr. M'Millan was not only thoroughly of the Old School in his views of both doctrines and measures, but he disliked and dreaded the compromising spirit of many of our ministers in high places, in those times.

As a public speaker, he possessed one qualification in high perfection, well suiting him for the earlier part of his career,

under his head, and exclaimed, "Tut! tut! mon, are ye becoming effeminate?"

The reader will find some curious and amusing things about the first appearance of umbrellas in Philadelphia-when they were scouted in the public gazettes, as a ridiculous effeminacy-in Watson's Annals of Philadelphia, Vol. I., p. 193.

when he so often preached in the woods and in the open air. He had a voice which, though not mellifluous, was yet powerful, and could sustain any amount of effort short of absolute screaming without ever breaking down or causing exhaustion. His manner was always solemn and impressive. Though he preached from memory, he had the faculty of delivering his discourses in so natural a tone of voice, that the hearer would suppose it was perfectly extemporaneous. On certain topics, he would often use the same language, word for word, that had been heard before. This was especially the case with some of his exhortations; and though heard ever so often, they always, somehow, seemed fresh to the hearer. We have heard many testify to this. But as to his matter, as a preacher, here we prefer to give the language of Dr. M. Brown, who was intimately acquainted with him, and had heard him scores of times for nearly a quarter of a century:

"The subjects which characterized his sermons were, the dreadful evil of sin; the awful danger of the sinner, exposed to the wrath of God; the character of God as holy and just, as well as merciful; the spirituality, purity, extent, and excellence of the divine law; the absolute need of salvation through the atoning sacrifice of Christ; the fulness, sufficiency, and freedom of the gospel salvation; the utter helplessness of the sinner; insufficiency of his own righteousness; the necessity of an entire change of heart, and absolute need of Christ for pardon and acceptance. These great points were pressed with all his solemnity and force, and pressed upon the sinner's conscience, who was urged, by all the solemnities of heaven. and hell, immediately, and without delay, to make a surrender of himself to Christ as a lost and helpless sinner; that he was without excuse in refusing to receive Christ and the of fered salvation; that his inability to believe, repent, and embrace the Saviour, was a moral inability; the result of depravity, a perverse will, a perverted taste; the inability of a wicked heart, at enmity with God; and that this, instead of being an excuse, was the essential crime.”