effected in this way during the present century one of two things
will certainly have to happen--either three times as many as those
now attending it will have to solicit admission, or those actually
visiting it will have to grow three times as stout in their
physiology. They are a quiet, pious-looking class of people who
frequent the church. They may, like their great apostle, have
seasons of inner rapture, and like him revel in the mysteries of the
Arcana Coelestia, but if so they keep the thing very subdued. They
never scream nor shout about anything, and would refuse to do so if
you asked them. Many of them are elderly people, with decorous
countenances; all of them, whether old or young, believe in good
suits; very few of them are wealthy; none of them seem very poor.
Calmness, with a disposition to find you a seat any time, and
provide you with books, characterises them. They have fixed
services, embracing prayers, lessons, psalms, hymns, and chants.
They have an excellent organ, which was given to the place by Mrs.
Becconsall; and their music is "ever so fair." Their services, on
Sundays, are held in the morning and evening, and they can get to
the latter much easier and in much better time than to the former.

Once a month there is an afternoon instead of an evening service,
the minister having to officiate for a few of the followers of
Swedenborg at Blackburn, who can't afford to pay, or won't get, or
don't want, a regular expounder of their views. Mr. Rendell is a
rather learnedly-solemn kind of gentleman. Originally he was a
painter; but he had a greater passion for polemics than brushes, and
was eventually recommended to, and admitted into "the Church" as a
minister. He reads the scriptures and prays in black kid cloves, but
he shows the natural colour of his hands when preaching. While
conducting the preliminary service he wears a white surplice; in the