John Stoughton,
Recollections of a Long Life
“ My personal recollections of Methodism, which roll back more than seventy years ago, linger round Yarmouth and Norwich. At Yarmouth I used to worship on a Sunday in a curious old-fashioned square chapel, with galleries on the four sides. There was a deep one opposite the two entrance doors, and attached to the front of that gallery was a pulpit—by what means, as a boy, I never could make out. The preacher ascended from behind by a staircase, invisible to the congregation, and then from the top of the staircase descended by two or three steps into a curiously shaped pulpit. ”
