big for the place; the stonework within is also hid; and the whitewashed ceiling above ought to be either cleaned or made properly black.  At present it is neither light nor dark, and is rather awkwardly relieved at intervals with cobwebs.  There is something humorous and incongruous in the physical associations of this chapel.  It is flanked with a doctor’s shop and a money-lending establishment; with a savings bank and a solicitor’s office.  The bank nestles very complacently under its lower wing, and in the ratio of its size is a much better looking building.  The text regarding the deposit of treasure in that place where neither moth nor rust operate may be well worked in the chapel; but it is rather at a discount in the immediate neighbourhood.

A great work in the business of spreading Wesleyan Methodism has been done by the people and parsons of Lune-street chapel.  We know of no place in the town whose religious influence has been more actively radiated.  Its power, a few years ago, spread into the northern part of the town, and the result was a new chapel with excellent schools there; it then moved eastward, and the consequence was a school chapel in St. Mary-street.  In Croft-street, Canal-street, and on the Marsh, it has also outposts, whose officers are fighting the good fight with lung, and head, and heart, in a sprightly and vigorous fashion.  Originally, what is termed the “circuit” of Lune-street embraced places 18 or 20 miles from Preston; but the area of the sacred circumbendibus was subsequently reduced; and its servants now find that they have as much on hand as they can fairly get through by looking after half of the town and a few of the contiguous villages.  There are none of those solemn milkmen called deacons in connection with Wesleyanism; still, there are plenty of medicine men, up; up the ears in grace and business, belonging it.  At Lune-street Chapel, as at all similar places, there are class-leaders, circuit stewards, chapel stewards, and smaller divinities, who find a niche in the general pantheon of duty.  The cynosure of the inner circle is personal piety, combined with a “penny a week and a shilling a quarter.”  All members who can pay this have to do so.

Beneath the chapel there is a Sunday school, which operates as a feeder.  When the scholars—­there are 500 or 600 of them altogether—­ show certain symptoms of inherent rectitude and facial exactness, when they answer particular questions correctly and pass through the crucial stages of probation consistently, they are drafted into “the church,” and presented with licences of perennial happiness if they choose to exercise them.  The school is well supervised, and if some of the teachers are as useful and consoling at home as they are in their classes their general relatives will be blissful.