The Church is built of stone, and has a neat appearance, but the approach to it is not very good.  You have to mount a small flight of steps to get to it, and their gradient is so acute that if you should fall on them you would never proceed onward, nor lie still, but wend your way in a rolling manner to the bottom.  Internally the church is one of the prettiest in Preston.  It is not large; we don’t suppose it will accommodate more than about 250; but it is peculiarly neat and pleasing.  The walls are painted and slightly ornamented; the windows are toned a little and bordered with elegant, well-finished designs; the chancel is fronted with a gothic arch painted in marble pattern and edged with gold; beyond there is a circular window, stained in bright colours.  At each end there is a gallery—­one which apparently contains nothing, whilst the other is devoted to the choir.  At one side of the chancel arch there is a reading desk, which looks piously at a pulpit, made just like it, on the opposite side.  Few churches have windows in the roof; but this has about four—­at least they are circular lights, and, in conjunction with the side windows, make the place very bright and cheerful.  At the bass of the chancel, beneath the gallery, and behind the communion table, there are several paintings, some, if not all, of which were executed by the minister, who has rather vivid artistic conceptions.  In the centre there is an open Bible, and on each side the Decalogue, or something to that effect, for the letters, although in gold, can’t be seen very clearly at a distance.  Flanking these are sacred figures, which are too small to be attractive at a greater distance than six yards.  But in their aggregate the representations look well, and they give a good finish to the chancel.  The seats are of various sizes; some will hold three persons, others four, and a few about six.

The church is not well attended; hardly half of it is occupied except upon special occasions.  At present it appears to be a little better patronised than formerly; but even now the congregation is comparatively thin, and there will be no necessity for some time to do anything in the shape of enlarging the building.  If anything is effected in this way during the present century one of two things will certainly have to happen—­either three times as many as those now attending it will have to solicit admission, or those actually visiting it will have to grow three times as stout in their physiology.  They are a quiet, pious-looking class of people who frequent the church.  They may, like their great apostle, have seasons of inner rapture, and like him revel in the mysteries of the Arcana Coelestia, but if so they keep the thing very subdued.  They never scream nor shout about anything, and would refuse to do so if you asked them.  Many of them are elderly people, with decorous countenances; all of them, whether old or young, believe in good suits; very few of them are wealthy; none of them seem very