us in manner; as unabashed as the
Duke of York's monument in Waterloo Place.

You can see what manner of a man Dr. Campbell is in the twinkling of an
eye. It is not often he preaches now; but if you chance to be at the
Tabernacle, in the City Road, when he does preach, you will feel the
description of him is correct. The memory of that Apostle in an age of
sensualism and sin, George Whitfield, still sheds a fragrance round the
dreary-looking chapel, in which some few hundreds, chiefly of the poorer
sort of small tradesmen, meet, Sabbath after Sabbath, and where the
Editor of the 'Christian Witness,' of the 'Christian Penny Magazine,' and
of the 'British Standard,' occasionally harangues. If you go, gentle
reader, take with you a good stock of patience, for you will not find the
service easy, or the sermon short. There, in the very pulpit where
Whitfield, the persuasive, the silver-tongued, stood--the Whitfield, whom
lords and ladies flocked to hear; who lit up with light and life a wicked
and adulterous generation--an age destitute alike of faith and heart and
hope--you will see a big cumbrous man, of severe face and repulsive
manner, with a voice harsh and rough as a mountain-stream. The face is
almost hidden between two uncomfortable collars, which create your
sympathy for the unfortunate mortal in such an unpleasant fix.
Continuing your search, however, you see piercing eyes beneath bushy
brows, a nose of a decided character, a most firm chin, and a head of
thick grey hair, the obstinate irregularities of which would throw a
fashionable hair-dresser into despair. Moore wrote of Castlereagh that--

'He gave out his small beer with the air of a chap
Who thinks to himself, 'T is prodigious fine tap.'

Just so preaches Dr. Campbell. In the pulpit he has it all his own way.
You cannot contradict him. You cannot even intimate dissent; and he
harangues with the air of a judge. Evidently the congregation has been
dragooned into what it is, for the preacher gives no sign of intelligence
or vigour. He takes a text and preaches from it. The divisions of the
sermon are the sentences of the text, and he talks in the most desultory
manner imaginable. The oratory belongs to the deadly-lively school, and
consists of mild common-places, pumped out with a ferocity reminding one
of the stern Puritans of the olden time, but rather out of place in the
Tabernacle in which the Doctor reigns supreme, and which we suppos