Our Churches and Chapels: Their Parsons, Priests, & Congregations: Being a Critical and Historical Account of Every Place of Worship in PrestonAtticus
History
Our Churches and Chapels: Their Parsons, Priests, & Congregations: Being a Critical and Historical Account of Every Place of Worship in Preston
Atticus
Preston (Lancashire, England) -- Church history
Still be has occasional spells of anti-Popery hysteria; he can't
altogether get the old complaint out of his bones; Rome is yet his
red rag when in a rage; and he has latterly shown an inclination to
wind up the clocks of the Jews and the Mahommedans. He may have a
fling at the Calmuck Tartars and a quiet pitch into the Sioux
Indians after a bit. When Mr. Alker first went to St. Mary's his
salary was small; but it has now reached the general panacea of
incumbents--300 pounds a year. He has also a neat, well-situated
parsonage, on the south eastern side of the town, a good garden,
which has been the scene of many lovely sights, and a neat patch of
ground beyond. In his district Mr. Alker has been an energetic
worker, and in connection with the schools particularly he has been
most useful. For his services in this respect he deserves much
praise, and we tender him our share. His influence is hardly so
great as it used to be, still he is the great Brahmin and the grand
Lama of the locality. There have been five curates at St. Mary's--
the Rev. W. Nesbit M'Guinness, clever and ambitious; the Rev. John
Wilson (not of St. James's), an industrious gentleman, who had a row
with the congregation in respect to his marriage, and afterwards
went away; the Rev. R. Close, a pretentious young man, who appeared
to use much hair oil and think well of pious gammon; the Rev. E. M.
David, a Welshman, who couldn't speak plainly enough for the
congregation, and had to retire; and, lastly, the Rev. Bernard
Robinson, who has been at St. Mary's about twelve months, and is
evidently working satisfactorily in the district. We have finished:
all is over; the lime lights are burning, the coloured fires are
radiating their hues, the curtain is falling, and bidding "Adieu" to
all our kind readers, we vanish.
A. HEWITSON, CHRONICLE OFFICE, FISHERGATE, PRESTON
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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