d made a descent upon the holy water forty-five seconds
before the business terminated. Of course it is better late than
never, only not much bliss follows late attendance, and hardly a
toothful of ecstacy can be obtained in three-quarters of a minute.
The singing is of an average kind, the choir being constituted of
the school children; whilst the organ, which used to be in some
place at Accrington, is only rather shaky and debilitated. During
the past ten years the Rev. Thomas Brindle, of St. Wilfrid's, has
been the officiating priest at St. Mary's. Father Brindle is a Fylde
man, is about 45 years of age, and is a thoroughly healthy subject.
He is at least 72 inches high, is well built, powerful, straight as
a die, good looking, keeps his teeth clean, and attends most
regularly to his clerical duties. He is unassuming in manner, blithe
in company, earnest in the pulpit. His gesticulation is decisive,
his lungs are good, and his vestments fit him well. Not a more
stately, yet homely looking, honest-faced priest have we seen for
many a day. There is nothing sinister nor subtle in his visage; the
sad ferocity glancing out of some men's eyes is not seen in his. We
have not yet confessed our sins to him, but we fancy he will be a
kindly soul when behind the curtain,--would sooner order boiled than
hard peas to be put into one's shoes by way of penance, would far
rather recommend a fast on salmon than a feast on bacon, and would
generally prefer a soft woollen to a hard horse hair shirt in the
moments of general mortification. Father Brindle!--Give us your
hand, and may you long retain a kindly regard for boiled peas, soft
shirts, and salmon. They are amongst the very best things out if
rightly used, and we shouldn't care about agonising the flesh with
them three times a week.

St. Joseph's Catholic Church stands on the eastern side of Preston,
and is surrounded by a rapidly-developing population. The district
has a South Staffordshire look--is full of children, little
groceries, public-houses and beershops, brick kilns, smoke, smudge,
clanging hammers, puddle-holes, dogs, cats, vagrant street hens,
unmade roads, and general bewilderment. When the new gasometer,
which looks like the skeleton of some vast colosseum, is finished
here, an additional balminess will be given to the immediate
atmosphere, which may be very good for children in the hooping-
cough, but anything except pleasant for those who have passed
through tha