tower, with a spire, (surmounted by a cross) above it; the total height being 120 feet, It may be information to some people when we state that the first spire attached to any place of worship in Preston, was that we now see at St. Ignatius’s.  Indeed, up to 1836, it was the only spire which could be found between the Ribble and the Lune.  Spires have since sprang up pretty numerously in Preston; but there was a time, and not very long since either, when the line in the well known doggrel verse “High church and low steeple” was descriptively correct.  The original cost of St. Ignatius’s church, with the adjoining priests’ house, was about 8,000 pounds and of that sum upwards of 1,000 pounds was raised by small weekly offerings from the poor.  The church has got an outside clock with three faces, and they would sustain no injury whatever if they were either washed or re-gilt.  We don’t think the clock would “strike” against such a thing.  The enlargement of the church, which was at the chancel end, cost about 3,000 pounds, and the money was quite ready when the job was finished.

The building is cruciform in shape, and has a fine interior—­is lofty, capacious, and cathedral-like.  The high altar is very choice and beautiful; and the contiguous decorations are profuse and exquisite.  The painting is rich and elaborate, and the most frigid soul, if blessed with even a morsel of artistic taste, would be inclined to admire it.  There is a large window behind the altar, and it is a very handsome affair; but it is rather too bright—­flashes and crystalises a little too strongly; and needs a deeper tone somewhere to make it properly effective.  Not very far from the pulpit, which is massive, elegant, and calculated to hold the stoutest priest in the country, there are two large statues, standing on tall stone columns—­opposite each other—­at the sides of the nave.  One of them represents St. Joseph, and the other, we believe, St. Ignatius.  Not very far from this part of the building there used to be a statue of St. Patrick; but it was removed to one side, awhile since, either to make room for some other ornament, or to edify those belonging “ould Ireland” who may happen to sit near its present position.  Towards the higher end, and on each side of the church, there is an opening, projecting back several yards.  A gallery occupies each of these spaces, and beneath there are seats.  The roof of the nave, which is finely decorated, depends upon parallel stone columns; but they are rather heavy—­are massive and numerous enough to support another church, if ever one should be erected above the present edifice.  The seats are of plain stained wood, and the doors are gradually disappearing.  Open seats are desiderated and whenever the opportunity occurs, the doors are attacked.  Some of the pews have doors to them, and so long as the present occupiers hold their sittings in them they will not, unless it is requested, be disturbed; but as soon as they leave, the doors will be quietly taken off and either sold, or judiciously split up, or quietly buried.