His vivid imagination created his word pictures with a power rivaling the pencil of the master painters. All the wealth of his genius flowed from his lips upon the canvas, and the men and women created by his own words stood before you real beings, living, moving, breathing at his command. Although he spoke without note, these masterpieces came from his mind ready for the press, and defied the criticism of the best scholars and writers. It is much to be regretted, that aside from what was left in the Quarterlies, no sermon survives. Had his best sermons been written out and published, they would today be masterpieces in sermonic literature, and all others would pale before their brightness, beauty and logical coherence. The writer has never heard any preacher surpass him in his power to flood his theme with the effulgent glory of divine truth. The Scriptures had so penetrated all his powers, so thrilled his entire being, that they came from his lips burning with fire off God's own altar. It is true that he was not uniformly eloquent. Genius is never uniform. It will not be subject to ordinary devices, or be thrust within the narrow confines of the ordinary nutshells of commonplace brains.
Recognizing his great gifts as a writer, his friends induced him to undertake the publication of what became at that time the ablest periodical published by the advocates of the Restoration, Lard's Quarterly.
- from J.B. Jones, Churches Of Christ, ed. John T. Brown, c.1904 pages 416 - 418
Let us mourn now and remember a great man, whose great Lard name was only surpassed by that of his father - Leaven Lard. Oh, that I had such a name, and such a marvelous neck mullet as Moses once sported, to carry me through the lean times.