He had a small and beautiful hand of which it is said, though such a thing is hard to believe of him, he was somewhat vain.

But his only gesture was to bring very infrequently the back of his hand down upon the cushion of the pulpit before him.

The ticking of the clock in the College Chapel was inaudible when the chapel was empty.

But it ticked out clear and loud upon the strained ears of the auditors who were waiting in the pauses of his sentences.

I can remember his sermons now.
They are admirable to read, although, like other eloquence, their life and sprit is lost without the effect of speech.
There was one on the text, "Thou shalt say no," which no hearer, I venture to say, ever forgot to the day of his death.