His appearance was remarkably youthful, and his voice sonorous.

I heard that he was assistant chaplain at one of the other London prisons.

With the most exemplary fidelity he went through the morning service, omitting nothing; unlike Parson Plaford, who shortened it to leave time for his sermon.

I wondered whether he would get through it by dinner-time, or whether he would continue it in the afternoon.

But he just managed to secure ten minutes for his sermon, which began with these extraordinary words, that were sung out at the top of his voice: "When the philosopher observes zoophyte formations on the tops of mountains, he," etc.