Father Walker is a locomotive, wiry, fibrous man—­full of energy, wide awake,—­tenacious, keenly perceptive; could pass his sharp eye round you in a second and tell your age, weight, and habits; could nearly look round a corner and say how many people were in the next street; has a touch of shrewd, sudden-working humour to him; can stand a joke but won’t be played with; has a strong sense of straightforwardness; is tall, dark complexioned, weird-looking, wears bushy hair, which is becoming iron grey, and uses a thin penetrating pair of spectacles.  He has been at St. Ignatius’s for two-and-a-half years; the decorations in the church are mainly due to him; and he has earned the respect and affection of the people.  His style of preaching is clear, sonorously-sounding, and vigorous—­ is not rhetorically flashy, but strong, impetuous, and full of energy.  The ardour of his nature makes his utterances rapid; but they are always distinct, and there is nothing extravagant or tragic in his action.  He is a clear-headed, determined, sagacious man, and would be formidable, if put to it, with either his logic or fists.

Father Brindle, who has been at the church about ten years, is a quiet, mildly-flowing, gently-breathing man; has nothing vituperative or declamatory in his nature; works hard and regularly; has an easy, gentle, subdued style of preaching; but knows what common sense means, and can infuse it into his discourses.  If he had a little more force he would be able to knock down sinners better.  The oracle can’t always be worked with tranquillity; delinquents need bruising and smashing sometimes.  Father Boardman—­an active, unassuming sort of gentleman—­has been at the church for about a year.  He is quick in the regions of education and literature; knows much about old and new books; has a lively regard for ancient classical and religions works; is perhaps better acquainted with the 26,000 volumes in Stonyhurst College library than anybody else; likes to preach on tuitional questions; has a mortal dislike of secular education.  He is plodding, intelligent, up to the mark in his business, and if 50 changes were made it is quite probable no improvement would be made upon him.

Father Baron comes next.  When we visited St. Ignatius’s he had only been there a few weeks, and since then he has gone to some place near London.  For a long time Father Baron was at Wakefield, and during his stay there he officiated as Catholic chaplain of the gaol.  He was the first priest in the kingdom who made application, under the Prison Ministers Act, for permission to hold regular gaol services.  In Wakefield he earned the respect of all classes; and there was general regret expressed when it became known he had to leave.  Protestants as well as Catholics liked him, and, if he had stayed in Preston, the very same feeling would have been created.  He is just about the most fatherly and genial man we have seen; has a venerated, rubicund, cozy look;