In a part of the town pre-eminently dim, intricate, and populous
stands "The Church of the Holy Trinity." Father Time and the smoke
of twice five hundred chimneys have darkened its fabric, and
transmuted its chiselled stone walls into a dull pile of masonry.
But it is a beautiful church for all that. If the exterior has been
carbonised and begrimed, the interior has enjoyed a charmed life,
and is apparently as young today as it was on "Friday, the eighth of
December, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and
fifteen," when "George H. Chester" consecrated the building and all
thereunto belonging. The first stone of this church was laid on the
4th of June, 1814--the natal anniversary of George III--by Sir Henry
Philip Hoghton, of Hoghton, the lay rector and patron of the parish
of Preston. Under that first stone there were deposited a number of
coins, two scrolls, and one newspaper--the Preston Chronicle. The
first minister of Trinity Church was the Rev. Edward Law, a
gentleman, who, according to a local historian, "ably defended the
belief of the adorable Trinity in a series of letters, assisted by
the Rev. R. Baxter, of Stonyhurst, against a Unitarian minister, the
Rev. T. C. Holland, which appeared in the Preston Chronicle," and
were subsequently reprinted and sold for the enlightenment and
mystification of all polemically-minded men. Trinity Church is built
on a plot of ground once called Patten Field. Moderns know little,
if anything, of that field; but Patten-street--a delicious
thoroughfare proximately fronting the church--still remains as a
lingering topographical reminder of olden days. There were few
houses in the region of Patten Field when Trinity Church was built:
pastures were its colleagues, and patches of greensward its regular
companions. But things have changed since then, and a mile of
houses, stretching northward, and westward, and eastward now fills
up the ancient hiatus. Trinity Church cost 9,080 pounds 9s. 3d., and
that sum was raised partly by subscriptions and donations and partly
by the sale of pews. Who gave the ultimate threepence we cannot
tell, neither are we told in what way it was expended.
The architecture of the building is Gothic. There is nothing very
striking about the exterior; indeed it looks cold, and sad, and
forsaken, and its associations don't improve it. The church is built
upon a hill, and, therefore, can't be hid. Its approaches may have
been good at one time; its environs may have been aristocratic and
healthy in 1814, but they are not so now. Smoky workshops, old
buildings, with the windows awfully smashed in, houses given up to
"lodgings for travellers here," densely packed dingy cottages, and
the tower of a wind mill, which for years nobody has been willing to
either mend or pull down, are its architectural concomitants. The
approaches to the church are varied and aggravatingly awkward. You
can get to the church from any point of the compass, but access to
it may mean anything--perhaps, a wandering up courts and passages, a
turning round the corners of old narrow streets, an unsavoury
acquaintance with the regions of trampery, and an uncomfortable
perambulation along corn-torturing causeways and clumsily paved
roads. Pigeon flyers, dog fanciers, gossipping vagrants, crying
children, old iron, stray hens, women with a passion for sitting on
door steps, men looking at nothing with their hands in their
pockets, ancient rags pushed into broken windows, and the mirage of
perhaps one policeman on duty constitute the sights in the
neighbourhood. The church-yard, which contains several substantial
tombs and monuments, is in a decent state of preservation. It looks
grave as all such places must do; but it is kept in order, and men
of the Hervey type of mind might meditate very beneficially amongst
its tombs. Trinity may not be the longest, but it is certainly about
the widest, church in the town. It is neither a high nor a low, but
an absolutely broad church.
Internally it is excellent. On entering the place you are perfectly
surprised at its capaciousness. Nothing cramped, nothing showy,
nothing dim, grim, nor shabby-genteel enters into its proportions.
It is finely expansive, airy, light, and well made. Goodness of
build without gaudiness, sanctity without sadness, and evenness of
finish without new-fangled intricacy, pervade it. It is fit for
either beggars or plutocrats. There is not a better, not a plainer,
neater, nor more respectable looking church in the town. And there
is not a cleaner. Some of our churches have for years been
cultivating a close and irreligious acquaintance with dirt--with
dust, cobwebs, mould, and other ancient kinds of mild nastiness; but
Trinity Church is a model of cleanliness. Everything in it seems
clean--the windows, pews, cushions, mats, floors, &c., are all
clean; there is even an air of cleanliness about the sweeping
brushes and the venerable dust bin. The church has accomodation for
about 1,400 persons of ordinary proportions. The seats are
constructed on comfortable principles, and that very traditional
article--green baize--plays an important and goodly part 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 window. They have a good effect,
and give a somewhat artistic richness to the chancel. Within and at
each end of the communion rails there is a fine old oak chair. Both
are beautifully carved and are valuable. The reading-desk and the
pulpit are placed opposite each other, and at the sides of the
chancel. They are very tall, but altitude rather improves than
diminishes their appearance. They are well made, are fashioned of
dark oak, and have carved Gothic canopies. We have seen nothing so
tall nor so respectable-looking in the arena of virtuous rostrumdom
for a long period. On each side of the pulpit-desk there is a small
circular hole, and those said holes have a history. "What are they
used for?" said we one day, whilst in the pulpit, to a friend near
us. "For?" said the sagacious party, "they are for nothing;" and
then followed a history which we thus summarise for the benefit of
parsons in general:- A few years ago a gentleman with a red-hot dash
of Hibernian blood in his veins was the curate here. When he came,
the stands of two gas lights were fixed in the holes named; but one
Sunday, when wilder than usual, he gave the bottom of the right-hand
stand a vehement beating, smashed his ring in the encounter, and
frightened the incumbent, who, being apprehensive as to the fate of
the two stands and their globes, had them shifted further back and
more out of the curate's reach. They were in imminent peril every
minute, and a change was really necessary.
Not many years ago--plenty of people can remember it--the
congregation of Trinity Church was both large and influential. The
elements of influence and the representatives of wealth may still be
seen in it; but few and far between are the worshippers. Pews may be
owned, seats may be taken, few sittings may be to let, but where are
the worshippers? What a pity it is, that a church of proportions so
goodly, an edifice with accomodation so capacious, a building with
arrangements so substantial and excellent should be deserted in a
manner so absolute? A screw of large dimensions is loose somewhere.
The population of the district seems great--dense; many of the
people round about the church stand singularly in need of entire
acres of virtue, some of them are thorough-going heathens, and think
heathenism a rather jolly thing at times. And yet this most
excellent church is comparatively empty--desolate--reminding one
painfully of Ossian's picture of Balclutha's walls. The congregation
of Trinity Church is better than it was a few years ago, but it is
still lamentably, small. There is often "a beggarly account of empty
boxes"--a great deal of nothing in the church, and how to remedy
this defect is a problem. The present congregation consists of a
very moderate number of middle class people, a few elderly well-to-
do individuals, a thin scattering of poor folk, and a small body of
Sunday school scholars. The Recorder of Preston, who has been
connected with the management of the church since the time it was
opened, attends regularly when health permits: Trinity Church is,
of course, in the hands of trustees, and as people of an inquiring
turn of mind sometimes wonder who they are we will give their names.
Here are the trustees: Mr. T. B. Addison, Mr. John Cooper, Mr.
Thos. Walmsley, Mr. John Swainson, Mr. John Bickerstaffe, Mr. Thomas
Houlker, and Mr. Isaac Gate. The present churchwardens are Mr. W.
Fort and Mr. W. H. Smith, and they have discharged their duties--
looked after the church, kept it clean, preserved its order--in
thoroughly commendable style. Testimonials are due for their
services.
The music at Trinity Church has for a considerable period been a
troublesome, irregular, unsatisfactory thing. Years ago it was fine;
there was full cathedral service in the church then; and the
orchestral performances were attractive. But dullness and poorness
are now their characteristics. The organ is one of the best in the
town; its tones are fine and musical; it could perhaps be improved
in one or two particulars; but everything in it is good as far as it
goes. The tunes, however, which come from it are of a very ordinary
character. Some of them may be tasteful; but the bulk seem weak and
wearisome--lack fine-flowing harmony, and can neither be joined in
nor appreciated by many parties. The members of the choir are not a
very lustrous class of vocalists; but they do their best, and appear
to fight through the musical fog surrounding them very patiently. We
believe the tunes are selected by the incumbent. If so, let us hope
that he will see the propriety of recognising something a little
brisker and more classical--something rather livelier and more
popularly relishable. Many clergymen simply select the hymns and
leave the music to the choir: the incumbent might try this plan as
an experiment. Squabbling about music, carping, and fighting, and
biting about it, have in the past done much harm to Trinity Church.
There is more peace now than there used to be amongst the singers;
but there will never be very much contentment, and never much
harmony of music, until they are permitted to moderately follow the
custom of other places--to swim with the tide--and have a reasonable
share of their own way. Singers can, as a rule, quarrel enough among
themselves when in the enjoyment of the fullest privileges; and
interference with their services, if they are really worth anything,
only makes them more ill-natured, angular, and combative. They are
awkward people to deal with, and have strange likings for "hot
water."
The minister of Trinity Church is the Rev. J. T. Brown, and his
salary amounts to about 300 pounds a year. He was christened at the
place; was in after years curate of it; and is now its incumbent.
About two years ago, when he came to the church in the last-named
capacity, the congregation was wretchedly thin--awfully scarce, and
just on the borders of invisibility. It has since improved a little;
but working up a forsaken place into real activity is a difficult
task, which at times staggers the ablest of men. Mr. Brown is a
scholar, and a thoroughly upright man. He believes not in fighting
down other people's creeds; never rails against religious
antagonists; has a natural dislike to platform bigotry and pulpit
wrathfulness; is generously inclined; will give but not lend;
objects to everything in the shape of loud clerical display; is
strongly evangelical in his tastes; is exact, and calm, and orderly,
even to the cut of his whiskers; won't be brought out and exhibited;
doesn't care about seeing other people make exhibitions; and thinks
every minister should mind his own business, and leave other people
alone. But he is far too good for a parson. A gentle melancholy
seems to have got hold of him. He always preaches sincerely; a quiet
spirit of simple unadorned, piety pervades his remarks--but he
depresses you too much; and is rather predisposed to a calm mournful
consideration of the great sulphur question. He never gets into a
lurid passion, never horrifies, but calmly saddens you, in his
discourses. He is fond of quoting good old Richard Baxter and John
Banyan, and he might have worse authorities. But he is very serious,
and his words sometimes chill like a condensation of Young's "Night
Thoughts." If he had more dash and blithesomeness in him, if he
could fling a little more of this world's logic into his sermons, if
he would periodically blow his own trumpet very audibly, and make a
smart "spread" now and then, he would gather force. The best of
things will sink if there be not some noise and show made about
them. If Mr. Brown knew the "Holloway's Pills and Ointment" theory
better than he does, he would have a fuller congregation; but he is
too honest and too good for superficial emblazonry, and he believes
in quietness.
Trinity Church has some excellent schools for boys, girls, and
infants. The attendance is only poor; but it is better than it was.
The boys' school is improving; that of the girls is also recruiting
the strength it lost last Whitsuntide but one, when a number of its
attendants left in a body because Mr. Brown objected to a display of
orange and blue ribbons which they were senselessly enamoured of;
and with respect to the infants they are regularly growing in size
if not in numbers. Mrs. Brown, wife of the incumbent, not only
industriously visits the district, like a genuine Christian lady as
she is, but teaches in the girls school, and at intervals when at
church--here is an example for parsons' wives--looks after a number
of the scholars personally, whilst her own servants are quietly
occupying the family pew. We could like to see both the church and
the schools of Mr. Brown full; he has our best wishes in this
respect; and we hope he may find some talisman by which the
difficulty will be satisfactorily solved.