roughly eloquent voice; is rather sensational in the
construction of some of his sentences; bellows a little
at times; welters pathetically often; is somewhat monotonous
in tone; ululates too heavily; behaves harshly to the
letter “r”— sounds it with
a violent vigour, and makes it fairly spin round his
tongue end occasionally; can sustain himself well as
a speaker; is never at a loss for words; has a forcible
way of arranging his subjects; is systematic in his
style of treatment; and can throw into his elucidation
of questions well-coined and emphatic expressions.
He likes perorations—used to imitate Punshon
a little. He has a good analogical faculty; takes
many of his illustrations from nature, and works them
out exceedingly well; is a capital explainer of biblical
difficulties; is peculiarly fond of the travels of
St. Paul; piles up the agony easily and effectively;
many times gets into a groove of high-beating, fierce-burning
enthusiasm, as if he were going to take a distinct
leap out of his “pent-up Utica,” and revel
in the “whole boundless continent” of thought
and sacred sensation; is a thorough believer in the
“My brethren” phrase—we recently
heard him use it nineteen times in twenty minutes,
and regretted that he didn’t make the numbers
equal; delights in decking out his discourses with
couplets and snatches of hymns; has a full-blown determined
style of speaking; reads with his gloves on, and preaches
with them off, like one or two other parsons we have
seen; makes his sermons too long; is a good platform
man, and would make a fair travelling lecturer; has
a great predilection for open-air preaching, and has
spells of it to the Orchard; might with advantage
work more in and less out of his own district; wouldn’t
commit a sin if he studied the question of personal
visiting; shouldn’t think that his scripture
reader—a really good, hard-working man—can
perform miracles, and do nearly everything; can talk
genuine common sense if he likes, and make himself
either very agreeable or pugnacious; is an Orangeman,
with a holy horror of Popery; can give deliciously
passionate lectures about the Reformation; considers
money a very important article, and is inclined to
believe that all people, particularly parsons, should
stick to it very firmly; will have his own way in church
matters; likes to fight with a warden; has had many
a lively little brush over sacrament money; might
have got on better with many of the officials if he
had been more conciliatory; is a man of moderate ability,
of fair metal, of strong endurance, but would be more
relished if he were less dogmatic, were given less
to wandering preaching, and threw himself heart, soul,
purse, and clothes into his own district. Near
the church, and occupying good relative positions
on each side of a beerhouse, called “The Rising
Sun,” are All Saints’ schools. One
of them—that now occupied by the boys—
was, according to a tablet at the outside, erected
several years ago by our old friend Captain German