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7 Parish Church
13 St. Wilfrid's Catholic Church
18 Cannon-street Independent Chapel
23 Lune-street Wesleyan Methodist Chapel
28 Fishergate Baptist Chapel
34 St. George's Church
39 St. Augustine's Catholic Church
45 Quakers' Meeting House
51 St. Peter's Church
55 New Jerusalem Church
60 Trinity Church
66 Lancaster-road Congregational Chapel
70 Saul-street Primitive Methodist Chapel
75 St. Ignatius's Catholic Church
82 Vauxhall-road Particular Baptist Chapel
88 Christ Church
94 Wesley and Moor Park Methodist Chapels
99 Presbyterian and Free Gospel Chapels
104 St. James's Church
110 The Mormons
116 St. Walburge's Catholic Church
122 Unitarian Chapel
127 All Saints Church
132 United-Methodist Free Church and Pole-street Baptist Chapel
137 Church of the English Martyrs
142 St. Saviour's Church
148 Christian Brethren and Brook-street Primitive Methodists
153 St. Thomas's Church
158 Croft-street Wesleyans & Parker-street United Methodists
164 Grimshaw-street Independent Chapel
169 St. Paul's Church
175 St. Mary's-street and Marsh End Wesleyan Chapels, and
the Tabernacle of the Revivalists
181 St. Mary's and St. Joseph's Catholic Chapels
187 St. Mark's Church
192 Zoar Particular Baptist Chapel
196 St. Luke's Church
201 Emmanuel Church and Bairstow Memorial Chapel
207 St. Mary's Church
OUR CHURCHES AND CHAPELS: THEIR PARSONS, PRIESTS, AND
CONGREGATIONS.
It is important that something should be known about our churches
and chapels; it is more important that we should be acquainted with
their parsons and priests; it is most important that we should have
a correct idea of their congregations, for they show the
consequences of each, and reflect the character and influence of
all. We have a wide field before us. The domain we enter upon is
unexplored. Our streets, with their mid-day bustle and midnight sin;
our public buildings, with their outside elaboration and inside
mysteries; our places of amusement, with their gilded fascinations
and shallow delusions; our clubs, bar parlours, prisons, cellars,
and workhouses, with their amenities, frivolities, and severities,
have all been commented upon; but the most important of our
institutions, the best, the queerest, the solemnest, the oddest--the
churches and chapels of the town--have been left out in the cold
entirely. All our public functionaries have been viewed round,
examined closely, caressed mildly, and sometimes genteely
maltreated; our parochial divinities, who preside over the fate of
the poor; our municipal Gogs and Magogs who exhibit the extreme
points of reticence and garrulity in the council chamber; our brandy
drinkers, chronic carousers, lackered swells, pushing shopkeepers,
otiose policemen, and dim-looking cab-drivers have all been
photographed, framed, and hung up to dry long ago; our workshops and
manufactories, our operatives and artisans, have likewise been duly
pictured and exhibited; the Ribble has had its praises sung in
polite literary strains; the parks have had their beauties depicted
in rhyme and blank verse; nay--but this is hardly necessary--the old
railway station, that walhallah of the gods and paragon of the five
orders of architecture, has had its delightful peculiarities set
forth; all our public places and public bodies have been thrown upon
the canvas, except those of the more serious type--except places of
worship and those belonging them. These have been neglected; nobody
has thought it worth while to give them either a special blessing or
a particular anathema.
There are about 45 churches and chapels and probably 60 parsons and
priests in Preston; but unto this hour they have been treated, so
far as they are individually concerned, with complete silence. We
purpose remedying the defect, supplying the necessary criticism, and
filling up the hiatus. The whole lot must have either something or
nothing in them, must be either useful or useless; parsons must be
either sharp or stupid, sensible or foolish; priests must be either
learned or illiterate, either good, bad, or indifferent; in all,
from the rector in his silken gown to the back street psalm-singer
in his fustian, there must be something worth praising or
condemning. And the churches and chapels, with their congregations,
must likewise present some points of beauty or ugliness, some traits
of grace or godlessness, some features of excellence, dignity,
piety, or sham. There must be either a good deal of gilded
gingerbread or a great let of the genuine article, at our places of
worship. But whether there is or there is not, we have decided to
say something about the church and the chapel, the parson and the
priest, of each district in the town. This is a mere prologue, and
we shall but hint at the general theme "on this occasion."
Churches and chapels are great institutions in the land. Nobody
knows the exact time when the first was thought of; and it has not
yet transpired when the last will be run up. But this is certain, we
are not improving much in the make of them. The Sunday sanctums and
Sabbath conventicles of today may be mere ornate, may be more
flashy, and show more symptoms of polished bedizenment in their
construction; but three-fourths of them sink into dwarflings and
mediocrities when compared with the rare old buildings of the past.
In strength and beauty, in vastness of design and skill of
workmanship, in nobility of outline and richness of detail, the
religious fabrics of these times fall into insignificance beside
their grand old predecessors; and the manner in which they are cut
up into patrician and plebeian quarters, into fashionable coteries
for the perfumed portion of humanity, and into half-starved benches
with the brand of poverty upon them for the poor, is nothing to the
credit of anybody.
All the churches and chapels of the land may profess Christianity;
but the game of the bulk has a powerful reference to money. Those
who have got the most of the current coin of the realm receive the
blandest smile from the parson, the politest nod from the beadle,
the promptest attention from that strange mixture of piety and pay
called "the chapel-keeper;" those who have not got it must take what
they can get, and accept it with Christian resignation, as St. Paul
tells them. This may be all right; we have not said yet that it is
wrong; but it looks suspicious, doesn't it?--shows that in the arena
of conventional Christianity, as in the seething maelstrom of
ordinary life, money is the winner. Our parsons and priests, like
our ecclesiastical architecture and general church management, do
not seem to have improved upon their ancestors. Priests are not as
jolly as they once were. In olden days "holy fathers" could wear
horse-hair shirts and scarify their epidermis with a finer cruelty
than their modern successors, and they could, after all that, make
the blithest songs, sing the merriest melodies, and quaff the oldest
port with an air of jocund conscientiousness, making one slyly like
them, however much inclined to dispute the correctness of their
theology. And the parsons of the past were also a blithesome set of
individuals. They were perhaps rougher than those mild and refined
gentlemen who preach now-a-days; but they were straightforward,
thorough, absolutely English, well educated, and stronger in the
brain than many of them. In each Episcopalian, Catholic, and
Dissenting community there are new some most erudite, most useful
men; but if we take the great multitude of them, and compare their
circumstances--their facilities for education, the varied channels
of usefulness they have--with those of their predecessors, it will
be found that the latter were the cleverer, often the wiser, and
always the merrier men. Plainness, erudition, blithesomeness, were
their characteristics. Aye, look at our modern men given up largely
to threnody-chiming and to polishing off tea and muffin with elderly
females, and compare them, say, for instance, with--
The poet Praed's immortal Vicar,
Who wisely wore the cleric gown,
Sound in theology and liquor;
Quite human, though a true divine,
His fellow-men he would not libel;
He gave his friends good honest wine,
And drew his doctrine from the Bible.
Institute a comparison, and then you will say that whilst modern men
may be very aesthetic and neatly dressed, the ancient apostolic
successors, though less refined, had much more metal in them, were
more kindly, genial; and told their followers to live well, to eat
well, and to mind none of the hair-splitting neological folly which
is now cracking up Christendom. In old times the Lord did not "call"
so many parsons from one church to another as it is said He does
now; in the days which have passed the bulk of subordinate parsons
did not feel a sort of conscientious hankering every three years for
an "enlarged sphere of usefulness," where the salary was
proportionately increased. We have known multitudes of parsons, in
our time, who have been "called" to places where their salaries were
increased; we know of but few who have gravitated to a church where
the salary was less than the one left. "Business" enters largely
into the conceptions of clergymen. As a rule, no teachers of
religion, except Catholic priests and Methodist ministers, leave one
place for another where less of this world's goods and chattels
predominate; and THEY are COMPELLED to do so, else the result might
be different. When a priest gets his mittimus he has to budge; it is
not a question of "he said or she said," but of--go; and when a
Wesleyan is triennially told to either look after the interests of a
fresh circuit or retire into space, he has to do so. It would be
wrong to say that lucre is at the bottom of every parsonic change;
but it is at the foundation of the great majority--eh? If it isn't,
just make an inquiry, as we have done. This may sound like a
deviation from our text--perhaps it is; but the question it refers
to is so closely associated with the subject of parsons and priests,
that we should have scarcely been doing justice to the matter if we
had not had a quiet "fling" at the money part of it. In the letters
which will follow this, we shall deal disinterestedly with all--
shall give Churchmen, Catholics, Quakers, Independents, Baptists,
Wesleyans, Ranters, and Calathumpians, fair play. Our object will be
to present a picture of things as they are, and to avoid all
meddling with creeds. People may believe what they like, so far as
we are concerned, if they behave themselves, and pay their debts. It
is utterly impossible to get all to be of the same opinion; creeds,
like faces, must differ, have differed, always will differ; and the
best plan is to let people have their own way so long as it is
consistent with the general welfare of social and civil life. It
being understood that "the milk of human kindness is within the PALE
of the Church," we shall begin there. The Parish Church of Preston
will constitute our first theme.
No. I.