soned for several months, and suffered many severities, which gave
him great influence with those of his own sect. He threw his faded eyes
over the multitude and over the scene of battle; and a light of triumph
arose in his glance, his pale yet striking features were coloured with a
transient and hectic blush of joy. He folded his hands, raised his face
to heaven, and seemed lost in mental prayer and thanksgiving ere he
addressed the people. When he spoke, his faint and broken voice seemed at
first inadequate to express his conceptions. But the deep silence of the
assembly, the eagerness with which the ear gathered every word, as the
famished Israelites collected the heavenly manna, had a corresponding
effect upon the preacher himself. His words became more distinct, his
manner more earnest and energetic; it seemed as if religious zeal was
triumphing over bodily weakness and infirmity. His natural eloquence was
not altogether untainted with the coarseness of his sect; and yet, by the
influence of a good natural taste, it was freed from the grosser and more
ludicrous errors of his contemporaries; and the language of Scripture,
which, in their mouths, was sometimes degraded by misapplication, gave,
in Macbriar's exhortation, a rich and solemn effect, like that which is
produced by the beams of the sun streaming through the storied
representation of saints and martyrs on the Gothic window of some ancient
cathedral.

He painted the desolation of the church, during the late period of her
distresses, in the most affecting colours. He described her, like Hagar
watching the waning life of her infant amid the fountainless desert; like
Judah, under her palm-tree, mourning for the devastation of her temple;
like Rachel, weeping for her children and refusing comfort. But he
chiefly rose into rough sublimity when addressing the men yet reeking
from battle. He called on them to remember the great things which God had
done for them, and to persevere in the career which their victory had
opened.

"Your garments are dyed--but not with the juice of the wine-press; your
swords are filled with blood," he exclaimed, "but not with the blood of
goats or lambs; the dust of the desert on which ye stand is made fat with
gore, but not with the blood of bullocks, for the Lord hath a sacrifice
in Bozrah, and a great slaughter in the land of Idumea. These were not
the firstlings of the flock, the small cattle of burnt-offerings, whose
bodies lie li