in them.  At the top and bottom of the middle range, on the ground floor, the seats are of various shapes—­some narrow, some broad, a few oblong, and others inclining to the orthodox square.  The central ones are regular, and so are those at the sides.  In the galleries there is a slight irregularity of shape in the seats; but they are all substantial, and the bulk easy.  There are 46 free pews or benches in the church.  They run along the sides on the ground floor, and will accommodate nearly 280 persons.  All the other seats, excepting about two, were sold to various parties at the time the church was opened--not for any fixed price all round, but for just as much as the trustees could get.  Many were bought by high-class local families, and the names of several of the original and present proprietors—­ inscribed on small brass plates—­may now be seen on the front sides.  Fifty of the pews have ground rents, amounting respectively to 1 pounds a year, attached to them.  Several of the pews are let, the owners caring little for them, or having removed to other towns; many have been re-sold at intervals; and three have been forfeited through their proprietors having neglected to pay certain trifling rates laid upon them.  The pews have deteriorated much in price.  Once upon a time, when nearly all the fashionable families of Preston went to Trinity Church, neither Platonic love nor current coin could secure a pew.  It was a la mode in its most respectable sense, it was Sabbatical ton in its genteelest form, to have and to hold a pew at Holy Trinity when George the Third was king.  And for a considerable period afterwards this continued to be the case.  The “exact thing” on a Sunday in Preston, 40 nay 20 years ago, was to own a pew at Trinity Church, to walk up to it, and to sit therein:  it was superior to every modern process, and beat “Walking in the Zoo” and all that species of delightful work hollow.  Pews were then worth something; they are now worth little.  Only the other week a pew, originally bought for about 70 pounds, was sold by auction for 8 pounds!  And it is said that some proprietors would not be very unwilling to give a pew or two now, if nicely asked, just to get out of the ratepaying clauses.

Trinity Church has a plain, yet pleasing, chancel.  It is neat and good, simple yet well-proportioned and elegant.  The chancel window is but sparingly stained; still it has a tasteful and rather stately appearance.  Amber is the most prominent colour in it, and loyalty the principal virtue represented on it.  There are a few small emblematic-looking characters towards the base, which few can make out; but everybody can see and understand the rather large English outburst of loyalty surmounting the window.  The display consists of the Royal arms, well and broadly defined, with a crown above them, and a lion above all.  This speaks well for the lion, which ought to be satisfied.  Plain Gothic-bordered tablets, with a central monogram, occupy the wall below the