At the southern end there is a large gallery, overshadowing the noisiest galaxy of Sunday infants we ever encountered.  There are more infants at St. Mary’s schools than at any other place in Preston, and trouble, combined with vexation of spirit, must consequently exist there in the same ratio.  The bulk are kept from the church; but a few manage to creep in, and when we saw them they were having a very happy time of it.  Some whistled a little—­but they seemed to be only learners and couldn’t get on very well with tunes; others tossed halfpennies about, a few operated upon the floor with marbles, and all of them were exceedingly lively.  The gallery above is large, deep, and long; ingress to it is tortuous; and strangers would have to inquire much before properly reaching it.  There is an old funeral bier in one part of it, and we have failed to ascertain the precise object of the article.  It is not used when fainting fits are in season; it is never taken advantage of in the case of people who fall asleep, and require carrying home to bed; it seems to be neither useful nor ornamental; and it ought to be either taken off to the cemetery and quietly inurned, or sold to one of the sextons there.

In the gallery there is a large organ.  It is a very respectable-looking instrument, has a healthy musical interior, and is played moderately.  The members of the choir, to whom several people in the bottom of the church look up periodically, as if trying to find out either what they were doing or how they were dressed, are only in embryo.  They are new singers; but some of them have fair voices, and in spite of occasional irregularity in tune and time, they get along agreeably.  The elements of a good choir are within them, and they have only to persevere, in order to secure excellence, saying nothing of medals, and other tokens of appreciation.  The whole of the seats in the gallery, generally used by scholars, are free.

St. Mary’s is situated a district containing about 8,000 persons, and as they are nearly entirely of the working class sort, the congregation is naturally made up of similar materials.  Including 14 militia staff men, the congregation will number, on an average, without the scholars, about 500.  More people appear to come late to this church than to any other in Preston; they keep dropping in at all times—­particularly in a morning—­up to within twenty minutes of the finish; but they are connected with the schools, visit the church after they have done duty there, and this accounts for their lateness.  The beadle of this church has the strongest, if not the longest, official wand in the town, and he is very modest, blushing occasionally, while carrying it.