h a voice! such a piercing eye!
such an inevitable forefinger, held out trembling with the terrors of
the Lord; such a power of asking questions and letting them fall deep
into the hearts of his hearers, and then answering them himself, with an
"ah, sirs!" that thrilled and quivered from him to them.

I remember his astonishing us all with a sudden burst. It was a sermon
upon the apparent _plus_ of evil in this world, and he had driven
himself and us all to despair--so much sin, so much misery--when, taking
advantage of the chapter he had read, the account of the uproar at
Ephesus in the Theatre, he said, "Ah, sirs! what if some of the men who,
for 'about the space of two hours,' cried out, 'Great is Diana of the
Ephesians,' have for the space of eighteen hundred years and more been
crying day and night, 'Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God
Almighty; just and true are all thy ways, thou King of saints; who shall
not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name? for thou only art holy.'"

You have doubtless heard of the story of Lord Brougham going to hear
him. It is very characteristic, and as I had it from Mrs. Cuninghame,
who was present, I may be allowed to tell it. Brougham and Denman were
on a visit to James Stuart of Dunearn, about the time of the Queen's
trial. They had asked Stuart where they should go to church; he said he
would take them to a Seceder minister at Inverkeithing. They went, and
as Mr. Stuart had described the saintly old man, Brougham said he would
like to be introduced to him, and arriving before service time, Mr.
Stuart called, and left a message that some gentlemen wished to see him.
The answer was that "Maister" Brown saw nobody before divine worship. He
then sent in Brougham and Denman's names. "Mr. Brown's compliments to
Mr. Stuart, and he sees nobody before sermon," and in a few minutes out
came the stooping shy old man, and passed them, unconscious of their
presence. They sat in the front gallery, and he preached a faithful
sermon, full of fire and of native force. They came away greatly moved,
and each wrote to Lord Jeffrey to lose not a week in coming to hear the
greatest natural orator they had ever heard. Jeffrey came next Sunday,
and often after declared he never heard such words, such a sacred,
untaught gift of speech. Nothing was more beautiful than my father's
admiration and emotion when listening to his uncle's rapt passages, or
than his childlike faith in my father's exegeti