They would say sometimes that their minister was more than a mere man; that he was a prophet and a seer, and that his Master seemed sometimes to stand and speak again in His servant.

And 'seer' was not at all an inappropriate name for their minister, so far as I can collect out of some remains of his that I have seen and some testimonies that I have heard.

There was something awful and overawing, something seer-like and supernatural, in the pulpit of Mansoul.

Sometimes the iron chains in which the preacher climbed up into the pulpit, and in which he both prayed and preached, struck a chill to every heart; and sometimes the garment of salvation in which he shone carried all their hearts captive.

Some Sabbath mornings they saw it in his face and heard it in his voice that he had been on his bed in hell all last night; and then, next Sabbath, those who came back saw him descending into his pulpit from his throne in heaven.
'Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-page Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.
Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek Is apter than thy tongue to tell thine errand.' If you think that I am exaggerating and magnifying the parish pulpit of Mansoul, take this out of the parish records for yourselves.