there than in its old position, so it was carried
back, and has remained unmolested ever since.
If it were put upon castors, and pushed slowly and
with becoming reverence up and down the church during
sermon time, all would get a view of its occupant;
but we believe the warders have an objection to pulpits
on castors, so that there is no hope in this respect.
The reading-desk stands opposite the pulpit, and looks
very broad and diminutive. The chancel is plain.
A large, neatly designed stained glass window occupies
the end. On each side there is a mural monument—one
being to the memory of Samuel Horrocks, Esq., Guild
Mayor in 1842, and son of S. Horrocks, Esq., of Lark-hill,
who for twenty-two years represented Preston in Parliament;
and the other, raised by public subscription, to the
memory of the Rev. Joseph Rigg, who was minister of
St. Paul’s for nineteen years, and who died
in 1847. The general fittings and arrangements
of the church indicate plainness of design, combined
with medium strength and thorough respectability.
In no part of the building is there any eccentric
flourishing or artistic meandering. The roof,
the walls, and the base of the window niches, which
have become blackened with rain, need cleaning up;
and some day, when money is plentiful, they will no
doubt be renovated. The seats are strong, broad,
and regular in shape. All of them, except one,
are let, and it would speedily be tenanted if more
conveniently located. There is a pillar in it,
and, in order to get a proper view of the officiating
minister, you must stand up, lean forward, and glance
with a rolling eye round the corners of the obstruction—a
thing which many of the more bashful of our species
would not like to do.
The church will accommodate about 1,200 persons, and
the average Sunday attendance may be calculated at
800. The gallery is patronised extensively by
the “million”; the ground floor pews are
occupied by more select and fashionable individuals.
The great majority of the worshippers sit above, and
few vacant spaces can as a rule be seen there.
Down stairs the crush is less severe. The congregation
is a mixture of working and middle class people; the
former kind being preponderant. At the sides there
are long narrow ranges of free seats; but they are
not often disturbed. On two successive Sundays
we gave them a passing look, and they appeared to
be almost deserted. A couple of little boys seated
in the centre, and engaged in the pleasing juvenile
business of swinging their legs, were the only occupants
we saw on the right side during our first inspection;
and when we viewed the range on the other side, the
Sunday after, we could only catch tender glimpses of
three females, all very quiet, and each belonging
the antique school of life. “Where will
you sit?” said a large-hearted young man, when
we made our second appearance. “There,”
was our reply, pointing at the same time to a well-cushioned
and genially sequestered seat at the north-west corner,