But it must not be supposed that the abundance of Mr. McDonald’s labors as a preacher prevented him from giving attention to study. Far from it. His intellect was too strong and too vigorous to rest. His pen was ever busy. He was profoundly read in philosophy. He was deeply versed in ancient and ecclesiastical history. He excelled in Biblical exegesis. No superficial thinker was he. The pen of no one but a master could produce his treatises on “The Millennium,” “Baptism,” and “The Plan of Salvation.” He greatly admired the Hebrew and Greek languages. The Psalms of David, Isaiah’s Prophecies, and Solomon’s Songs were his delight. He was a graceful writer of English verse, an excellent singer, and played well on the flute. He published several collections of his poems and hymns. In the later years of his life one of his hymns was always sung at every service, set to some wild strain of his native Scotland, such as “The Campbells are coming,” or “The Banks and Braes o’ Bonny Doon.” To say that Mr. McDonald was faultless, would be to say that he was more than human. To say that, as a great moral reformer, he had no enemies, would be to say that he was a toady and a time-server. He was a brave man. He had strong self-reliance, and still stronger faith in God. He attacked vices with giant blows. Woe to the opponent who crossed his pathway! He had rare conversational powers. His spirits were always good. He knew the circumstances of every family in his widely-scattered flock, and remembered the names of all the children. He had no certain dwelling-place, no certain stipend, and bestowed all he got on works of charity. He was rather below medium height, stout, and powerfully built. He was hale and vigorous-looking to the last. His dress, appearance, and manners always bespoke the cultured Christian gentleman. He was never married.