St. Luke’s Church was opened on the 3rd of August, 1859; the cost of it—­land, building, and everything—­being 5,350 pounds.  The late J. Bairstow, Esq., was an admirable friend of St. Luke’s; he gave 700 pounds towards the building fund, and 6,000 pounds for the endowment.  The church will accommodate 800 persons.  Three-fourths of the sittings are free.  The average attendance on Sundays, including school children, is 250.  Considering that there are about 5,500 persons in the district, this number is only trifling.  When we visited the church there were 280 present, and out of this number 160 were children.  We fancied that the weather, for it was rather unfavourable, might have kept many away, but when we recollected that we had passed groups of men standing idly at contiguous street corners, discussing the merits of dogs and ale, as we walked to the church; and saw at least 40 young fellows within a good stone throw of it as we left, hanging about drinking-house sides, in the drizzling rain, waiting for “opening time,” and talking coolly about “half gallons,” we grew doubtful as to the correctness of our supposition.  If men could bear a quiet drenching in the streets, could leave their homes for the purpose of congregating on the sides of parapets, in order to make a descent upon places essentially “wet,” we fancied that moderately inclement weather could not, after all, be set down as the real reason for a thin congregation at St. Lukes.  The fact is, there is much of that religion professed by the horse of Shipag in this district—­working on week days and stuffing on Sundays is the creed of the multitude.

The congregation worshipping at St. Luke’s is formed chiefly of working people.  In summer the scholars sit in a small gallery at the west end; in winter they are brought into 28 seats below it.  They seem to be of a rather active turn of mind, for in their management they keep two or three men and a female hard at work, and continue after all to have a fair amount of their own way—­not, perhaps, quite so much of it as three youths who sat before us, who appeared to extract more pleasure out of some verses on a tobacco paper than out of either the hymns or the sermon—­but still enjoying a good share of personal freedom, which children will indulge in.  There is a service at St. Luke’s every Wednesday evening; but it is not much cared for.  Only about 30 attend it, and it is not known to what extent they enjoy the Proceedings.  The instrumental music of the church has apparently been regulated on the Darwinian theory of “selection.”  What it was at the very beginning we can-cannot say; but towards the commencement it appears to have been emitted from a small harmonium; then a little organ was procured, and it came from that; then a large organ was obtained, and from that it now radiates.  Some day a still larger instrument may be procured; but the present one, which used to do duty in Christ Church, Preston, is a respectable, good-looking, tuneful apparatus; and it is played with ability by an energetic, clerical-looking young gentleman, who receives a small salary for his services.  The members of the choir manifest tolerable skill in their performances; but they lack power, and are hampered at line ends by the dragging melody of the scholars.