He has been at Lancaster-road Chapel three months, and, unlike many new parsons, he had more sense than preach his best sermons first—­than make a grand pyrotechnic dash at the onset and settle down into a round of prating mediocrity afterwards.  When tried he gave the people a fair average specimen of what he could do—­did not say his best nor his commonest things; began with a fire which he could keep up; and the result is not disappointment, but an increasing relish.

Mr. Bolton is a plain, dark-complexioned, clear-headed man—­rather clerical in look; well-built; married; about 38 years of age; fond of a billycock; teetotal, but averse to drowning other people with water; doesn’t think it sinful to smoke just one pipe of tobacco after he has done a day’s work; had rather visit poor than rich people; dislikes namby-pambying and making a greater fuss over high than low class members of his church; thinks that those in poverty need most looking after, and that those with good homes and decent purses should try to look a little after themselves; believes in working hard; cares precious little for deacons—­we rather like that, for deacons are queer birds to encounter; is original in thought, fairly up in theology, and straightforward in language.  It is rather a treat to see him preach.  He does not, like the bulk of parsons, solemnly work out all his divinity in the pulpit:  preaching is not a sad, up and down, air-sawing, monotonous thing with him; he steps out of the sacred box when his feelings begin to warm up, moves to one side of it, then round the back of it, and then to the other side of it; talks to you and not at you; is quite conversational in style, and ignores everything conventional and stereotyped in manner.  He exercises his lungs with considerable force at times; but he never tears nor disturbs the circumambient air with religious agony.  It is as pleasant to hear as to see him.  Good sound sense, neatly adjusted argument, newness of thought, and clear illustration characterise his expressions.  He is liberal and independent in tone; speaks easily, and if he now and then wanders a little he always returns to the question with vigour, and freshness.  He has no written sermons; a few notes are sufficient for him; he does not believe in long discourses; he has an idea that it is better to say a little and let it be well understood than float into immensity, let off fireworks there, and dumfounder everybody.  But he has his faults.  He has quite as much confidence in himself as is requisite for the present.  He is rather too impervious and too oracular; but then who would not be if they had the chance?  We like him well on the whole, and as he is new amongst us, it is but right that we should deliver him with charity.  Adjoining the chapel there are many class-rooms, and a fine school.  Boys, girls, and infants are accommodated in them.  The average Sunday attendance is about 200.  We believe Mr. Bolton will add numeric strength to both the chapel and schools.  And if he does, let no one make the least conceivable noise, for there is room enough for all in Preston.  The town isn’t a quarter as virtuous as it should be; the bulk of us are scarcely half as good as we ought to be; and if anybody can do any good in any way let it be done without a single whimper.