was recognized as the best-read man of his class in English Literature, and equally their superior in the use of such literature. One of his classmates writes: "Until his sophomore year he gave no sign of the career that awaited him. Before that stage in the curriculum, original compositions in English had not been required. The first one from his pen was a surprise, even to a doubt as to its paternity. But this doubt was soon dispelled. In no long time the class of '39 knew that it had in it one brilliant writer." The historical element in his mental furniture also began to show itself. The same classmate says: "Boy as he was, he had what afterward became so conspicuous, a wonderful knowledge of eminent men, their names, their nationality, the age to which they belonged, and the part they severally played in the drama of the world's history, whether with the pen, the tongue, or the sword." His standing in other branches of study was good, but "he revelled in literature, and in literature of a high order. From impure writings, no matter how gifted their authors, he instinctively recoiled."

It is certainly suggestive of his future that at the Senior Exhibition of his class he chose for his subject "Classical Reminiscences," and that he was selected as the last speaker, as indicative of his rank, at least as a writer. Writing of the event to his parents he says: "It was my first public effort. We had a full house, and, what is more wonderful, I was not intimidated in the least."

Among his classmates at the time of his graduation were Joseph Ricker, D. D., late State Agent of the Maine Baptist State Convention; Andrew H. Briggs, Esq., of Boston; Abraham H. Granger, D. D., of Rhode Island; and many others who have honored the school, the press, and the pulpit. Among his intimate friends of other classes were such men as M. B. Anderson, LL. D., expresident of Rochester University, and the late Elias L.

Magoon, D. D. The catalogues of his day show that he was the literary companion of the choicest scholars in the college.

During his sophomore year, or perhaps a little later, under the teaching and preaching of President Pattison, his "inmost life was unlocked" to him, his "spiritual difficulties were removed," and he found in Christ the new creation. His plans were now changed, but the sphere in which they should move was undecided. Whether or not the strong desire of his mother, who died April 17, 1835, that his life should be devoted to the Christian ministry, was to be gratified, was uncertain. He was very young. His piety had all the flux and efflux of youth. He shrank from the responsibilities of the ministry. A literary life was far more congenial to his tastes and to his prospects of success. And so, being not nineteen years of age at his graduation, to test his motives he accepted an appointment to become principal of the Academy in Hampton Falls, N. H., continuing there until May, 1840, when he became principal of the West Grammar School of his native town. Here he remained, pondering his life-work and still shrinking from the ministry, until he finally decided to enter the Newton Theological Institution, to graduate with the class of '45.

His class was an unusually able and brilliant one. They were stimulated by the minute and thorough teaching of Professor Hackett in New Testament exegesis, by the broad, comprehensive, epigrammatic, and incisive instruction of Professor Sears in theology, and by the kind yet firm guidance of Professor Ripley in homiletics. The bees in the hive, though few in number, were busy and buzzing. The air was full of philosophical speculation. Emerson was at the height of his fame. Theodore Parker was beginning his work in Boston. Transcendentalism nestled at Brook Farm, a few miles distant. Coleridge's "Aids to Reflection" was the student's vade mecum.

Straussianism was winning followers on American soil. The young students plied their teachers with questions which would not be settled by a dogmatic aphorism. The debates in the class-room often prolonged the assigned hour into two hours, and the debates among classmates often extended into the midnight hour. Young Caldwell felt the magnetism of his surroundings, and with his characteristic self-mistrust and his life-long determination to hear both sides and all sides, became doubtful as to the genuineness of his call to the ministry. He walked in doubt many months, -as what true man has not?-always attending upon the regular prayer-meeting and upon the weekly class prayer - meeting. Says a classmate: "I do not remember that ever, in a single instance, he gave an exhortation to his fellow-students; but his prayers had the same characteristics which made his public prayers in after years so edifying to spiritually-minded Christians." Finally his prayers were answered; the doubts scattered, and he could say, "I see my way through." Newton was the seed-bed of his public life, and the seed produced good fruit.

Marked among his classmates were Heman Lincoln, D. D., late Professor of Church History in the Newton Theological Institution; Ebenezer Dodge, LL. D., late president of Madison University; and Kendall Brooks, D. D., ex-president of Kalamazoo College. Others of his class became no less eminent as preachers and pastors.

Soon after leaving the seminary he was invited to become pastor of a Baptist Church in St. Louis, Mo., but declined the call because he believed himself unfitted for a Western pastorate. He went South rather than West, and supplied the pulpit of the Baptist Church in Alexandria, Va., until May, 1846, when he accepted the call of the First Baptist Church in Bangor, Me., and was ordained as its pastor the August following, Professor Barnas Sears, LL. D., preaching the sermon.

The month following his ordination, September 17, 1846, he married Mary Lenord Richards, the granddaughter of Josiah Smith, M. D., of Newburyport, Mass., with whom she had lived from childhood, her parents having died when she was very young. She was a woman well educated, of excellent judgment, genial and attractive, amply qualified to enjoy the honors and grace the circles in which she was to move. The union was a peculiarly happy one, continuing nearly forty-three years. was broken only for a few months, she following him to their final home January 18, 1890.

It

Their children were, William Emery, now of New York city; Samuel Lenord, M. D., of Providence, R. I.; Mary Caroline and Alexander Humphrey, who died in infancy; and Alice, who died in early childhood.

Dr. Caldwell's work in Bangor was very congenial to him. He felt his youth and his lack of experience. He often referred to his inability to do hand-to-hand work in winning souls to Christ. He could not be an evangelist in the modern sense of that term. He often lamented the fact that his courage in doing pastoral work was not equal to the promptings of his heart. The duties of his parish were numerous and severe, yet he did what he could; he put his soul into them, and during his ministry, under the coöperation of loyal brethren, a chapel was built, the meeting-house was enlarged and renovated, and even at that early day the envelope system for missionary contributions was adopted and put into successful operation. "All the relations," says one of his co-workers, “of pastor and people, were very harmonious. He was a man of great courtesy, and it is not remembered that he was ever known to manifest a spirit of resentment towards any one, or to utter a harsh or censorious remark.” His associations with the neighboring pastors of the city were specially helpful to him. The friendship of Rev. George W. Field, D. D., of the Central Church, Rev. John Cot

ton Smith of the Episcopal Church, and Rev. George B. Little of the First Congregational Church, was a friendship of lifelong love. They lived together like brothers. But not merely as a pastor and a man was he beloved; the pulpit was his throne, and from his pulpit he built up his church into the ways and works of the God he served. He fed them with the finest of the wheat. They knew it and loved him for it. Emphatically he dwelt among his own people. They were the people of his first choice, and neither ever forgot the other. There lies before me a sermon he preached to them in commemoration of the fortieth anniversary of his ordination. It glows with the revival of his early affection, and is a warm-hearted expansion of his favorite theme, "The power and permanency of the kingdom of Christ."

His influence extended beyond the city of his habitation. The churches of his own faith, and of other faiths in the State, called for his services on public occasions. His Alma Mater invited him to one of her chairs of instruction, but he declined the honor. She selected him. as one of her trustees, an office he gratefully accepted, and whose demands he faithfully met for thirteen years. In 1858 she conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity.

His name in Maine had given him fame. A pulpit was vacant, in many respects the most responsible and the most exacting in the gift of the Baptist denomination. To follow in the succession of pastors such men as Gano, Pattison, Hague, and Wayland, and succeed; to keep Brown University and the ancient First Baptist Church of Providence, R. I., en rapport, so that the needs of a congregation of such varying culture should be understood and satisfied, required a man of rare gifts; one who could inspire their faith in him as the man, and one who had faith in himself and his God. The faith was mutual, and the church gave to the adopted son of Maine her