From the first, Dr. Anderson secured a rare measure of popularity as a preacher. His zeal, energy, and power were acknowledged on all hands, and it is no small tribute to his genius and popularity that in a city where Dr. Chambers was still in the zenith of his fame, where Dr. Wardlaw had built up his splendid reputation, and where, last but not least, Edward Irving was making his magic influence felt, Dr. Anderson was able, not only to hold his own, but to make fresh friends and admirers every day. He seemed to have a special talent for drawing the multitude about him. And yet it was not done by any dexterous shuffle of the theological cards, or by pandering to the morbid passions and tickling the vanities and weaknesses of his hearers. He never hesitated to tell his hearers that they were poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked. Thackeray has ridiculed the idea of a man with a long rent-roll, and a comfortable cushioned pew, believing himself to be a miserable sinner; but, he must have been obtuse indeed who would not wince under this rough and _bizarre_, but terribly earnest and fervid preacher. For a long period he gave a series of evening lectures which were crowded to suffocation, and as the fame of him went abroad throughout all the city, he was often the cynosure of eyes that were neither friendly nor devout. But, if he sometimes failed to make a deep impression, he always succeeded in persuading his hearers of the seriousness and importance of eternal things, so that "many who came to laugh remained to pray."