Congregationalism in the Court Suburb

THE REV. JOHN LAKE.

No account is given of the chapel opening; but in October, 1794, an invitation appears, in the name of "the trustees and subscribers," addressed to the Rev. John Lake, M.A., [17] requesting him to take "the pastoral charge of the congregation," to which, in the following month, an answer was returned accepting the charge, and expressing a hope that the people would receive the Word preached with meekness and affection, with freedom from prejudice, and with the simplicity of little children. "Carefully guard," he says, "against whatever may engender strife and division. Endeavour to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. Live in peace, and may the God of love and peace be with you." Mr. Lake, it is believed, was a Presbyterian clergyman, and on the 1st of March he preached two discourses suitable to the occasion, which was to unite "several constant and serious hearers at the new chapel" in "church communion," that they might enjoy "religious ordinances." The tone of the whole letter is devout and beautiful, and gives a favourable impression of the writer's character.

"On Sunday, March 8th, a special meeting was held at the chapel in the afternoon, of as many as were desirous of joining as members and communicants at the Lord's Table, when Mr. Lake attended and entered into religious conversation with those present, to whom he also delivered a suitable exhortation. The service was begun and concluded with prayer, singing, etc."

"March 30th. The Rev. Mr. Lake, who had accepted the pastoral office some months ago, removed with his family to Kensington."

"On Thursday, April 9th (notice having been given from the pulpit the preceding Lord's Day), Mr. Lake was set apart and admitted to the pastoral office in this Church, in the following manner: The Rev. Mr. Moore began with prayer and reading some suitable portions of Scripture; then singing; Dr. Hunter prayed; singing; the Rev. Mr. Smith preached a suitable and excellent sermon from Ezekiel iii. 17–21; then singing, after which Mr. Rutledge concluded with prayer and benediction. Several other ministers, besides those who engaged, were present. The reverend ministers and some of the principal heads of families afterwards dined together. The service at chapel was conducted to the general satisfaction of all present."

"On Friday, April 10th, in the evening, a sermon, preparatory to the administration of the Lord's Supper, was preached by the Rev. Mr. Love, from Exodus iii. 5. A meeting was afterwards held to consult about the choice of elders, when, after some deliberation, it was thought proper to postpone the choice to a future opportunity."

"On Sunday, April 12th, the members enjoyed the long wished for opportunity of joining as a Christian Church at the table of the Lord. The Lord's Supper was dispensed in the chapel for the first time by the Rev. Mr. Lake, in the following manner: After preaching a suitable discourse from 1 Corinthians xi. 26, and giving out a Psalm, he came from the pulpit to the communion table, where a linen cloth and the elements had been previously laid, the great pew, as well as three or four of the adjoining pews, were filled with communicants. After rehearsing the words of institution, with some useful remarks, Mr. Lake prayed what has been called the consecration prayer; then, with further address to the communicants, he distributed the elements of bread and wine. After which, during the singing of a hymn, he returned to the pulpit, gave an exhortation to those who had received, and concluded the whole with prayer, benediction, and a collection, as is usual on such occasions."

The record of that first communion is very interesting. I have seen the solemnization of the Holy Supper after different methods: at Rome, before the high altar of St. Peter's, amidst lights, flowers, and incense, with attendant cardinals, and all the pomp and splendour of a Roman court, and have there witnessed theatrical effects; in England, within the choir of a Protestant cathedral, I have beheld a bishop and his clergy administering the eucharist to kneeling worshippers, and have recognised in the scene much picturesque beauty. But I must say, that while reading the entry in the Kensington Church book, illuminated by my own memories of its communion Sundays during more than thirty years, I have before me a mode of administration, not only different from those just indicated, but in simplicity approaching, in my estimation, as near as possible to the Passover feast in the upper room at Jerusalem. It adds greatly to the interest of this unpretending record, to recall to mind contemporary events. The Church was formed, the minister was ordained, and the Lord's Supper was administered just at the period of "the Reign of Terror" in Paris and throughout France; and, I may add, a different reign of terror in London and Great Britain. The revolution storm had been breaking in wild fury over our continental neighbours. Blood had been poured out like water by a ferocious tribunal of madmen calling themselves patriots. In two months, out of seven thousand political prisoners, five hundred and twenty-seven had perished under the guillotine. Neither sex nor age, neither rank nor obscurity, neither wealth nor indigence had shielded the most innocent from vengeance. Exiles had swarmed over to England, and were hiding their poverty and shame in the country village, the English capital, and the Court suburb. Tales of change after change had reached our shores, and filled thousands of hearts with terror. English rulers of that day, terrified by what they heard, may be really said to have lost their heads, for they adopted such tyrannical measures for repressing sedition and treason, that Charles James Fox said in reference to the trials of Muir and Palmer in Scotland, that if the law enforced there should be brought into England, it would be high time for "him and his friends to settle their affairs and retire to some happier clime." It was just afterwards, and whilst order on the one side and freedom on the other were in jeopardy, that the humble fathers and founders of the Church at Kensington met to choose a pastor and to celebrate the Lord's Supper in their new fellowship. "God," says the forty-sixth Psalm, "is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God." As political storms roared around, the Kensington company enjoyed that Divine consolation.

The names of the first communicants are preserved, and in the course of the year 1795 eight others were added. In 1796 nine more, in 1797 five, and in 1798 three. One of the earliest members was a Mrs. Schmae whose husband was living when I went to reside in Kensington. He was a pious old man, full of faith, hope, and love; and when I visited him on his death bed, he told me he had been many years member of Dr. Steinkopf's Lutheran Church in the Savoy, and showed me a German Bible he valued, which was given to me by the family after his death.

The principal persons in the management of affairs at the earliest period were Messrs. Forsyth, Broadwood, and Grey, all Scotch Presbyterians. Mr. Broadwood was the famous pianoforte maker. Mr. Grey was a proprietor of the "Brompton Park Nursery," spoken of as famous for plants of all sorts, "which supply most of the nobility and gentry and gentlemen in England." John Evelyn visited the nursery in 1694, with Mr. Waller, who "was in admiration at the store of plants, and how well the nursery was cultivated."

Amongst early secular incidents connected with the chapel, was an attempt made on the part of the parish to include the building in the poor-rate assessment. This was in 1795. But the trustees resisted the imposition; and on the case being considered by the magistrates at Hicks Hall, they decided that the place being supported by voluntary contributions, could not be justly liable to the parish rate. Similar attempts were made afterwards, with a similar result.

In 1798 the general monthly prayer meeting of the London Missionary Society was held at Hornton Street, and the Rev. Dr. Haweis, it is stated in the Church book, preached from the text, "Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord." [23a] The entry deserves special remark. Dr. Haweis was rector of Aldwinkle, in Northamptonshire, and an intimate friend of the Countess of Huntingdon. At that period a few Evangelical clergymen were accustomed to preach in Nonconformist pulpits. The famous John Berridge, rector of Everton, was of the number; and Fletcher of Madeley frequently ministered the word of life to Methodist congregations. Dr. Haweis delivered the first annual sermon on behalf of the London Missionary Society in Spafields chapel; and on previous occasions preached in places of worship belonging to the Countess's connection. Whether it was owing to that circumstance, I do not know, but as early as 1767 an unpleasantness arose, which raised a question as to whether he ought to retain his rectory; and the Rev. Martin Madan, of the Lock Hospital-who, by the way, is buried at Kensington-advised him to retain it, a piece of advice which, we are told, subjected Mr. Madan "to much obloquy." [23b] Preaching by clergymen in dissenting chapels was deemed an irregularity, but some bishops winked at it. Whether or not the practice be legal became a topic of inquiry a few years ago, and counsel's opinion was taken on the subject. My friend Dr. Stanley at that period expressed a wish to occupy Kensington pulpit before I resigned the pastorate, and an arrangement for the purpose was deferred in consequence of a controversy on the general subject, which arose at the time. Counsel's opinion proved unfavourable, and the matter dropped. But I may mention that the Rev. Samuel Minton, whilst still a Church of England incumbent, preached for me one Sunday evening not long before counsel gave the opinion to which reference has been made.

It is interesting to remember that Dr. Haweis was a warm friend to the London Missionary Society, and that after having offered four hundred pounds for sending the Gospel to Tahiti, he said: "For many years I have planned, prayed, and sought for an opening for a mission among the heathen. My dear Lady Huntingdon has concurred with me in attempting it." [24a] And again: "My former experience has convinced me that only by a general union of all denominations could a broad basis be laid for a mission." [24b]

That at so early a period of this history such a service should be held was an augury for good. It showed that the insignificant band of Christians worshipping in Hornton Street cherished sympathies so large that they swept over the world, and offered prayers that the proclamation of the Gospel might reach the ends of the earth. From the beginning the Kensington Church associated itself with the history of missionary trials and missionary success. Disaster at the antipodes sent a thrill of pain, and success there created a pulsation of joy amongst the obscure worshippers. Hearts mourned over the capture of the Duff, and in after years over the massacre of Tongataboo, the imprisonment and death of Smith in Demerara, the murder of John Williams on the beach of Eromanga, and the persecutions of early converts by the Queen of Madagascar. From time to time the countenances of worshippers have brightened on the arrival of good tidings from the South Seas, from India, from China, from Caffreland, from the West Indies. And I mention this because I believe that much of the prosperity enjoyed by Kensington Congregationalists is owing to their early and ever since continued co-operation in missionary work. The keynote of their zeal and joy was struck at that meeting which it is so gratifying to remember.

Mr. Lake's ministry at Kensington ceased in 1800 or 1801; and the only notice I have found of his subsequent history, is that he at length quitted "the Dissenting interest for a curacy in the Established Church, where he sustained a respectable and useful character to the day of his death." [25]

THE REV. JOHN CLAYTON.

1801–1804.

"The congregation of Hornton Street Chapel, Kensington, being deprived of the ministerial labours of the Rev. John Lake, by his resignation, and remaining destitute of a stated overseer in the Lord till the month of May, 1801, united in a call soliciting Mr. John Clayton, assistant to the Rev. John Winter, of Newbury, Berks, to undertake the office of their pastor." [28] The invitation was in the name of "the trustees, church, and subscribers," and received about one hundred signatures. Mr. Clayton's reply is not given, but the records state that he paid a visit and preached two Sabbaths in the month of June; and on the second Sabbath of August, 1801, he entered upon his stated labours.

Mr. Clayton was educated partly at Homerton College, partly at Edinburgh University; and after the completion of his preparatory studies he spent a short time at Newbury, as assistant to the Rev. John Winter. He had only just come of age when he was invited to the Kensington pastorate. Having won for himself a good report from the people of the Berkshire town, as one who had done his work "with the ability of a theologist and the faithfulness of a minister of Christ," he was praised by the senior pastor, who wrote to the young man's father, saying, "I see that he has now a call to depart with a prospect of usefulness by preaching the Gospel in another place. I therefore readily commend him to the Lord, and the word of His grace, and shall rejoice to hear that all our hopes are realized among the people of Kensington."

Mr. Clayton was ordained in Hornton Street Chapel the twenty-first of October, 1801. The Rev. W. Humphreys, of Hammersmith, delivered the introductory discourse, and the charge to the minister was given by his father, the Rev. John Clayton, pastor of the Church assembling in the ancient Weigh House, not far from the London Monument. This gentleman, dignified and courtly, had come under the influence of Lady Huntingdon, and to the time of his death remained attached to the doctrines dear to the countess. His dissent was of a moderate type, and he did not share in political views prevalent amongst his brethren; in that respect his son resembled him. He cultivated friendships with evangelical clergymen, especially Newton and Cecil. When I was about to enter college I received from him counsel and encouragement; and I remember well a discourse which he preached at Norwich fifty years ago, from the words, "Let us go again and visit our brethren in every city where we have preached the word of the Lord, and see how they do." He had visited the place forty years before, and now came, he said, to see "how they did," and to make inquiries relative to their temporal as well as their spiritual welfare. "Have you made your wills?" asked the venerable patriarch, with his thickly powdered head.

"The charge he delivered at Kensington to his son was a most faithful and solemn exposition of ministerial duties, enforced with amazing vigour and pungency of expression; indeed at times there was a trenchant fearlessness of utterance almost amounting to invective against timeserving, hesitating, cowardly preachers who kept back the truth or proclaimed smooth things to gratify graceless spirits." [29]

"I have not language [he said] of indignant severity sufficiently strong to express the contemptible cowardice, hypocrisy, and soul-murdering cruelty of those who adopt an indefinite phraseology in order (such is the plenitude of their prudence and moderation) that none may suspend their devotion, but that a heterogeneous mass of nominal Calvinists and real Arians and Socinians may be assembled (for united they cannot be) in one society. Frost unites sticks and stones, moss, leaves, and weeds; the sun separates them. Into the secret of that frosty liberality may you, my son, never enter, and to the assembly of its advocates never be thou united.

"Your testimony is to contain nothing but the truth. Sermons should not consist in declamation, but be calculated to convey solid instruction. You must teach, and not trifle away time in exhibiting fine thoughts or playing upon words. Let not your testimony be encumbered with what is foreign. Be like Paul, who could say, 'Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have obtained mercy, we faint not; but have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.'

"Your testimony should be borne with zeal, in the heat of which do not lay aside Christian meekness towards opposers. At the same time, take care that you do not grow lukewarm and indifferent under the specious pretext of meekness. An unfaithful, accommodating pastor, perhaps, applauds himself for carrying it fair with all sorts of people, whereas this peaceable kind of preaching, in neither condemning heretics and worldly-minded persons, nor being condemned by them, is no other than a sign of his being himself in a state of condemnation and death. That person betrays the truth who ceases zealously to defend it, or to oppose its professed adversaries, either from fear of giving occasion of offence, or through a false love of peace. The shepherd should not only feed the flocks, but also drive away the grievous wolves."

When Mr. Clayton had spent a year and a half in the seclusion of what was then a rural hamlet, he met with an accident whilst riding on horseback, an exercise to which he was addicted throughout life. The accident suspended his work for a while, and during that period his brother George helped to supply his lack of service. There was considerable resemblance between the two brothers. Each had a commanding appearance and a sonorous voice. Both were accustomed to express themselves in measured, ornate sentences, the style of which was caught in a measure from their good father, who loved his sons, and discriminated between them by saying "John had the best stock of goods, but George had the best shop window." The attainments and mental abilities of the elder certainly were superior to those of the younger; yet perhaps the younger presented what he had to say in a manner more ingenious and with even more attractive diction than his brother John. They became, as they grew older, types of a class at the time large and influential, chiefly known by their intense and popular evangelical ministrations, their exemplary discharge of pastoral duties, their zealous support of catholic institutions for the spread of the Gospel, their gentlemanly demeanour in society, and their large intercourse with ministers and people of all denominations.

Let me avail myself of the following reminiscences of Mr. Clayton's preaching by my beloved friend, the Rev. J. C. Harrison, who attended at the Poultry when Mr. Clayton was minister there. They will, with some slight modification, apply to his preaching at Kensington.

"He was an admirable preacher. In the course of the year you were sure to hear all the main doctrines of the Christian faith clearly explained, or if not formally expounded, thrown into a fuller light by some practical appeal of which he made them the foundation. When he took up a book of the New Testament, like the Acts of the Apostles, and founded on it a series of discussions, he would draw out the spirit of the narrative with great fidelity and effect, and would rise not unfrequently into real eloquence. He was amongst his flock hearing the tale of their sorrows or their joys, their mental conflicts or their bodily sufferings, and becoming thereby acquainted with all varieties of life and experience, all kinds of spiritual disease, all phases of Christian character: seeking meanwhile how to meet difficulties and soothe sorrow, and correct morbid feelings, and turn tears of sadness into smiles of joy, and thus he got together the materials for portraitures of spiritual character drawn to the life, and these he wrought into the texture of his Sunday sermon. It is difficult to imagine the help which such discourses afforded to all classes of true Christian hearers. He mixed with all sorts and conditions of men, lawyers, doctors, merchants, tradesmen, mechanics; and as he was a felicitous and ready converser, he not only threw out shrewd hints and sparkling sayings for their advantage, but gained from them a vast amount of information respecting their mode of life, their opinions and practices, their weak points and strong points, their gains and losses, their desperate anxieties and temptations, or their exhilarating successes; and with these facts from life, in his memory, he spoke in his sermons, 'not as one that beateth the air,' but as one who had been behind the scenes, and knew whereof he affirmed. His strokes were not delivered at random, but went straight to the mark. He could reprove, exhort, advise, comfort, as if he were himself involved every day in the whirl and wear of life. True his usual style of speech was rather Johnsonian, intermingled with forms of expression so entirely his own that you could only call them Claytonian; but those who knew him well, found that he talked very much as he preached, in rhetorically shaped sentences, with a singularly felicitous peculiarity of phrase coined in his own mind, and occasionally with a good-humoured subsidence into some pointed colloquialism which told all the more forcibly from its contrast with his ordinary mode. They felt, therefore, that what he said was thoroughly genuine, the utterance of a true man and not at all of a quack, or as he would have said, of an empiric. But whether experimental or practical, his sermons were richly and heartily evangelical, full of the very spirit of the Gospel. As some of his old-fashioned hearers used to say, 'You could always reckon on sixteen ounces to the pound.'"

Mr. Clayton was an exemplary pastor. After he removed to Camomile Street and the Poultry, he visited his people in a most methodical way, dividing London into districts, and going from house to house, week after week, to comfort sorrowing hearts, to share in domestic joys, to guide the perplexed, and to stimulate the lukewarm; this I know, and therefore it may be inferred that he looked well after the few sheep in the Kensington fields, feeding them by day, and watching over them by night. He used to talk of the large "ring fence" round his church in the city; the ring fence round his church in the suburb was small, and hence we may be sure that his pastoral duties were, during his pastorate at Hornton Street, thoroughly performed. A gentleman by birth and education, with large sympathies easily evoked, tears and smiles coming at a moment's bidding, apt at telling anecdotes, full of humour if not wit, he was a companion loved in a circle wider than his own congregation; his genial friendliness and neighbourly visits helped no doubt to promote the cause of Evangelical Nonconformity.

A number of minutes occur in the record of affairs, relative to matters of a temporal kind, during Mr. Clayton's ministry; but there are no entries relative to the admission of members or other strictly religious proceedings. One subject in particular excited the pastor's solicitude, namely, that the chapel property should be put in trust, which accordingly was done; and in connection with this many discussions arose touching what was needful for discharging pecuniary liabilities. It is plain from what follows that Mr. Clayton was not satisfied with "the mixture of temporals with spirituals," as he called it; and on Christmas Day, 1804, he publicly assigned reasons for relinquishing the pastoral office. Various rumours were afloat, which he briefly contradicted as "untrue," and then told his friends that if they were asked "Why has Mr. Clayton left Kensington?" they were to reply, "That it was his earnest wish to be nearer the immediate circle of his ministerial connections and religious friends; that his desire was to be united to a Church whose members more fully coincided with him in sentiment on several subjects, more especially on the sacrament of the Lord's Supper; and particularly that he might find a place where he might not be habitually perplexed with secular arrangements, and where he might in some degree enjoy that tranquillity which he deemed so necessary in the present state of his health." "I have the pleasure," he added, "to inform you all, that last year this chapel was vested in the hands of nine trustees, who are engaged to see that no minister shall ever be settled here who does not preach the gospel agreeably to the tenets of the Assembly's Catechism."

Mr. Biggs, the collector and secretary, also resigned his office, and Mr. Walker was appointed in his room.

On the 31st of October, 1805, it was resolved, "at a meeting held in the vestry," that Mr. Hamilton, of Brighton, should be invited to become pastor, and an invitation accordingly was drawn up, and signed by two deacons and between eighty and ninety other persons.

To the invitation Mr. Hamilton sent a negative reply, addressed to "the Church of Christ assembling for religious worship in Hornton Street, Kensington, and the subscribers to that interest."

Meetings afterwards occurred at intervals for the settlement of pecuniary affairs, until the month of January, 1807, when by the direction of "the managers, with the members and subscribers approving," the secretary, Mr. Walker, wrote to Mr. Leifchild, a student at Hoxton Academy, who had occupied Kensington pulpit with great acceptance, to become minister of the chapel. Mr. Leifchild replied that he could not leave the Academy before the next Christmas, nor accept any call before the next midsummer. In August of the same year a meeting was held at Mr. Broadwood's house, and it was resolved to secure Mr. Leifchild not less than ￡160 per annum, with an addition of whatever the chapel might bring in above that sum. On the 3rd of January, 1808, the members of the chapel resolved to invite Mr. Leifchild to the pastorate, and in March he accepted the invitation.

THE REV. DR. LEIFCHILD.

1808–1824.

"Before accepting the call to Kensington," he said, as we learn from the Memoir by his son, "while returning from a visit to that place, I heard at the house of a friend that Rowland Hill had announced me to preach at Surrey Chapel on the following Tuesday evening." He went and preached, and was surprised at the risibility of the audience, which was explained when he heard that Mr. Hill had crept up into the gallery behind the pulpit, and in his own comical way expressed assent to one part and dissent from another part of the discourse. The veteran came into the vestry and asked the young man to become his curate at Wotton-under-Edge. The latter declined the overture, when the former replied, "That reminds me of young men setting up in business before they have served their apprenticeship." [37] Just before that evening service, the minister of Surrey Chapel had written to Mr. Wilson, Treasurer of Hoxton Academy, saying, "I hear much of a young man of the name of Leifchild. It was supposed that he was going to settle (a bad word for a young recruiting spiritual officer) at Kensington; but that there is a set of formal stupid Presbyterians there, who by no means suit his taste, and that he is consequently still waiting for the further directing hand of Providence, to know where he is to go." [38a] Mr. Hill was mistaken. John Leifchild did settle at Kensington, and was ordained there in June, 1808, when Dr. Simpson, his tutor, delivered the charge. Dr. Simpson, it may be remarked, was a man of singular spiritual power. Many can argue, illustrate, persuade, and impress, but he could inspire; and the accounts given of him in this respect by his students were enthusiastic. "I received a charge from his lips at my ordination over the Church at Kensington," says his admiring pupil, "which I can never forget. Much of the attention I afterwards met with in that official connection I ascribe to the affectionate manner in which he addressed me." [38b]

The new pastor does not give a flattering account of the congregation which formed his maiden charge. "There was a great prejudice," he says, "in the town against Dissenters. Many of my hearers resided at a distance or held situations in London, and some of the managers of the chapel, who were Scotchmen, were not very spiritual. Of the deacons, some resided in London, and one was very old. He also was a Scotchman, but a very good man. He had been a gardener on a nobleman's estate, and now lived on a small income, respected for his piety and integrity. He was my best help, but died after a long and lingering illness." "During that period I never found him otherwise than pious, resigned, and cheerful. He always had a guinea to spare for any religious object of importance, although his income did not exceed ￡50 per annum. One of the managers was worth at least ￡20,000, and was as niggardly as Duncan was generous. 'Here, Duncan,' exclaimed this wealthy man, on the occasion of an important collection at the chapel, 'Here, Duncan, will you put this in the plate for me?' handing two half-crowns. 'I will, sir,' replied Duncan, 'with my own guinea.' This was said with a good intent, but it hardly agreed with the Master's precept, 'Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.'"

Within little more than a year after the new pastor's settlement, George the Third's jubilee was held,-an event which of course produced excitement in Kensington, for whilst the royal old gentleman was popular all over the country, beyond what the present generation is apt to believe, he stood particularly high in the affections of the Kensingtonians, who were familiar with his face and figure, as he dashed along in his coach and four, attended by his body guard, through the Court suburb. The cry of his approach, and the distant sight of the soldiers and outriders brought people to the front, lifting their hats as he passed by. With Dissenters he was especially popular, and the Hornton Street congregation loved him all the more because he liked Saunders, the coachman, and read his tracts. So in the loyal demonstrations of October, 1809, they came prominently forward, and established on the 25th of the month a school for "children of both sexes and of all religious denominations."

Soon after the jubilee had been celebrated, the Nonconformist part of English Christendom was thrown into excitement by Lord Sidmouth's Bill for abridging the liberty of preaching, under pretence of rectifying an abuse. He complained that licences to preach were sought in order to evade parish duties and militia service, and urged that there should be put upon grants of licence certain restrictions which Dissenters did not approve. The deputies of the three denominations rose in determined opposition to this intermeddling with religious liberty, and petitions against it poured into the Houses of Parliament. The Kensington people joined other Nonconformists in resisting the mischievous scheme, and promised the London committee "the utmost assistance and cordial co-operation"; they also subscribed towards defraying expenses incurred by this "well meant and well timed" assertion of religious freedom. [40]

Amongst the families connected with the Church during Dr. Leifchild's pastorate, two in particular may be mentioned, noteworthy on their own account, and whom I can describe from personal knowledge.

The Talfourds attended for some years. The mother was one of those saintly women who when once seen can never be forgotten. She belonged to the class of matrons immortalized by Solomon. "The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her." "She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her." All this is eminently true of Mrs. Talfourd; and there she used to sit and listen to her pastor in one of the square green pews at Hornton Street, with her "children about her"; one of whom, when a matron and mother, was, during my own ministry, a comfort and a joy. The most distinguished of her sons-others became distinguished in other ways-was Mr. Justice Talfourd, who for some time not only adorned the judicial bench, but before doing so made a mark on literature and politics, by authorship and eloquence. The good old lady told me of his boyish days, of his school-life at Mill Hill; read to me one of his letters, in which he spoke of his school-fellows, especially "one Hamilton," who joined a party that met for worship privately, and was "very flowery in his prayers." This Hamilton was no other than the subsequently famous Nonconformist minister of Leeds. The young barrister wrote an article on pulpit oratory, in which he fully described the preacher to whom he listened on Sundays:-

"Mr. Leifchild is one of those who feels 'the future in the instant.' He has almost as intense a consciousness of the world to come as he has of the visible objects around him. He speaks not only as believing, but as seeing that which is invisible.

"His manner of level speaking is slovenly, sometimes bordering on the familiar; but when he is aroused he pours forth a torrent of voice and energy, and sustains it without intermission to the end. His whole soul seems thrown into every word. He does not stop to explain his expressions, or give all his qualifications to his doctrines which he might think requisite in a confession of faith, but gives full vent to the predominant feeling, and allows no other to check its course, which in every kind of oratory is wise. He thus occasionally, it is true, rushes headlong against some tremendous stumbling-block, or approaches that fine division where the pious borders on the profane. But, on the whole, the greatest effect is produced by this abandonment to the honest impulse of the season."

"I remember," says Mr. Leifchild, "that my father told me, upon his return from the Serjeant's house in Russell Square, where he had been dining, that this then well-known orator of the law courts had relaxed and refreshed himself by referring to the old Kensington days, and the old chapel, and singularly enough, the old hymns of Dr. Watts, which he had once rather disdained. 'Do you remember,' said he to my father, 'how we used to sing that hymn-one of Watts's best-

"When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of Glory died,

My richest gain I count my loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride"?

And do you remember how heartily we used to join in the last verse:

"Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so Divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all."'?"

Another family, less known to fame, was Mrs. Bergne, of Brompton Row, and her two sons. The eldest of them was John Bergne, for fifty years clerk in the Foreign Office, and during the latter part of the time superintendent of the French department,-an office which brought him into association with many foreign and home celebrities. A man of high culture, great conversational power and exuberant wit, he was nevertheless decidedly religious, and remained steadfast in his nonconformity to the end of life. He was a most attentive hearer, and wrote down many of his pastor's sermons, chiefly from memory. He carefully preserved two quarto volumes filled with a course of lectures on "The Acts," which I read when I was young, and they gave me a good idea of the preaching then heard at Hornton Street. A younger son, Samuel, entered the ministry during Dr. Vaughan's pastorate, and with him, as well as his brother John, I enjoyed a lifelong friendship most intimate, most endeared. He became well known as pastor of the Poultry Chapel, and as Secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society. The family lived at Brompton, but year after year made their way morning and evening to Kensington Chapel; and with them I may couple the family of the Gainsfords, who resided in Piccadilly. Such circumstances show the distances which in those days people walked to the house of God. It is remarkable how many branches of old Nonconformist families included in our history have since risen to eminence. Here I may mention Dr. Bruce, the learned arch?ologist in Newcastle, who married Miss Gainsford; also their son, the present Recorder of Bradford.

Another family may also be mentioned, though not I believe members of the Church, as were most of those whom I have just recorded:-

"Amongst the attendants on his ministry (says Mr. John Leifchild, speaking of his father) were Lord and Lady Molesworth. They had derived benefit from his pulpit instruction, and became his attached friends. He often referred in particular to the mother, Lady Molesworth, a truly pious elderly lady, who had apartments in Kensington Palace. She had two strong reasons for her attachment to my father's ministry: one being the benefit which she herself had obtained from it; and the other being the influence which it had exercised on a favourite son-Lord Molesworth. Lord Molesworth, her younger son, had heard Mr. Leifchild at Hornton Street Chapel, and though very wild and thoughtless at that time, was so affected by what he heard as to alter his mode of life. Another, and the elder son, was then in India, where, being laid on a sick bed, he remembered the psalms which his father, Viscount Molesworth, had read and expounded when he was a child at home, showing their reference to the Messiah, and thus confirming the truth of Scripture. I believe he came home, and it was then that he also attended the ministry at Hornton Street Chapel. He now became devoted and useful; and having obtained an appointment in Ceylon, he repaired thither, and there continued his usefulness by distributing religious publications. His father dying, he succeeded to the title, and having acquired property in Ceylon, he determined to return home, assist at the chapel, and spend the remainder of his days with his aged mother. He notified to his mother the time of his embarkation, and she, calculating the length of the voyage, expected at a certain day to enfold her son in her embrace. She was disappointed, and the reason soon appeared in the reception of the melancholy intelligence that the vessel in which he had trusted himself, his wife, and all his acquisitions, had gone down at sea, and every life had been lost. 'I feared,' says my father, 'on hearing the sad news, to call upon her; but on doing so I found her calm. And with erect and majestic figure, looking at me, she said: "Dear pastor, God sustains me. I utter not a murmuring word. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord."'"

When I first went to Kensington, I was requested to visit an old member of the Church, a shoemaker by trade, who I learnt had been converted under the ministry of Dr. Leifchild. I went and found him bedridden. He was a remarkable man, with a handsome face, but a cripple. In very humble circumstances, and uneducated, except in things pertaining to the kingdom of God, he had a good deal of that natural politeness which appeared all the more striking from its humble surroundings. He won my affections; and I delighted to sit by the good man's bed when he would describe, in emphatic language and with strong emotion, his strange life-story. Good-tempered from a boy, ready for fun and frolic, and of a daring spirit, he plunged one day, if I remember right, into the thick of the traffic in the high road, and was so crushed under a cart wheel, that it was a wonder he survived the accident. He had mixed with dissolute company, and been accustomed, as he loitered about the end of an alley opposite the church, to insult those who passed by on the way to worship. His habits did not improve when he became a married man, and his notoriety for evil was a village scandal. But two of his children went to the Sunday school, and they persuaded their father to come to chapel. Dr. Leifchild preached from the words of St. Jude: "Preserved in Jesus Christ, and called," and spoke of the remarkable preservation of sinful people before they were called and converted. He happened to relate an anecdote of Mr. Cecil, who, previously to his becoming decidedly religious, narrowly escaped with his life, when thrown by his horse across the track of a wagon, which in passing only crushed his hat. The incident struck the listener. It resembled his own experience, and rivetted his attention. When the preacher followed up the illustration with a characteristic appeal, addressed to such as were still unconverted after signal providential deliverances, the cripple trembled from head to foot. Greatly impressed, he went to chapel again and again, till he found himself another man, "a new creature in Christ Jesus." He would weep as he told the story, and go on to speak of his subsequent spiritual joy. "I am a wonder unto many," he would say, and then sing:-

"Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me;

I once was lost, but now am found;

Was blind, but now I see."

Before I knew him a chair was made, in which he was wheeled from place to place, and was conveyed to the chapel where God's grace touched his heart. He loved the memory of the minister who had led him to Christ; and that minister relates: "Whenever he heard that I was about to re-visit the town, which I had subsequently left for another sphere of labour, he caused his little carriage to be wheeled out to meet me. I saw his eyes glistening with emotion, and the tears rolling down his cheeks, as I approached him, and then he invariably exclaimed aloud, 'I am a wonder to many, sir; but God is my strong refuge.'" [47]

This remarkable conversion came to be common talk, and reached the ears of the Vicar, the Rev. Thomas Kennell.

"Shortly afterwards (says Dr. Leifchild) the Vicar called upon me and entered into familiar conversation with me on the great truths of the Gospel, evidently as the result of the impression which the shoemaker's wonderful conversion had produced. Thenceforth his kindly feeling toward me never decreased, and this was the more to be remarked on account of his standing in the Episcopal Church, as respected his learning, oratorical power, and zeal for God according to his knowledge. He was comparatively young, but with a magnanimous mind he had early determined to appreciate truth and goodness wherever they were to be found, and to follow them whithersoever they might lead. Soon afterwards he fell into a decline, and one evening while we were holding a prayer-meeting, news was brought us of his dangerous illness. I immediately requested those who led our devotions to bear him on their minds before God, and afterwards desired that no mention might be made of this circumstance, as I did not wish to draw attention to ourselves. But a report of it reached his sick chamber, and shortly after, upon the occasion of his removal for the benefit of change of air, I received from him the following note:

'April 29th.

'I cannot leave Kensington without expressing to you my grateful feelings for the truly kind and Christian manner in which, during a very critical period of my illness, you were pleased to direct the prayers of your congregation to the throne of grace for my recovery. It has made a deep impression upon my mind.

'Those prayers were mercifully heard, and, by the blessing of God, I trust that I am in a state of progressive amendment. Slow indeed have been my advances, insomuch that even now I am totally incapable of the ordinary exertions of life; but I trust that a good Providence, whose mercies have indeed been around my path and about my bed, will, in His good time, perform the perfect work of restoration.'"

Another remarkable fact must not be passed by:

"One sabbath morning (says the pastor) a singular lapse of memory befell me, which I had never before and have never since experienced. When I rose from sleep I could not recollect any portion of the discourse which I had prepared on the day before; and, what was most strange, I could not even remember the text of the prepared sermon. I was perplexed, and walked out before breakfast in Kensington Gardens. While there a particular text occurred to my mind; and my thoughts seemed to dwell on it so much that I resolved to preach from that without further attempting to recall what I had prepared, a thing which I had never ventured to do during all my ministry.

"From this text I preached, and it was 'Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.' I preached with great liberty, and in the course of the sermon I quoted the lines:

'Beware of desperate steps! the darkest day-

Live till to-morrow-will have passed away.'

"I afterwards learned that a man in despair had that very morning gone to the Serpentine to drown himself in it. For this purpose he had filled his pockets with stones, hoping to sink at once. Some passengers, however disturbed him while on the brink, and he returned to Kensington, intending to drown himself in the dusk of the evening. On passing my chapel he saw a number of people crowding into it, and thought he would join them in order to pass away the time. His attention was rivetted to the sermon, which seemed to be in part composed for him; and when he heard me quote the lines alluded to, he resolved to abandon his suicidal purpose."

Another incident deserves relation:

"A bricklayer came one evening drunk, yet towards the close was impressed. The next Sunday he came again, and I noticed him as one of the two young men who had behaved rudely the Sabbath evening preceding; but he had been cut to the heart. 'I,' said he to himself, 'am the man intended.' He soon fell ill, when the good work deepened. He is now consistent."

Dr. Leifchild left a list of thirty-two persons to whom he had been useful, and under each name a notice of particulars connected with it. [49]

There lived in one of the stately houses in Kensington Gore a gentleman, commanding in person and polished in manners, who was drawn towards the Dissenting pastor, though he had no affection for Dissenters. "He laughed at them and liked him. He was a staunch churchman, but came occasionally to the chapel, where, as also in other places, he might be distinguished by the flower always fastened in the buttonhole of his coat."

At the table of this hospitable gentleman the Kensington pastor met Serjeant Goulburn, then a young man; Mr. Stephen, of anti-slavery renown and Wilberforce's friend; Miss Edgeworth, the novelist; and the John Owen, early Secretary of the Bible Society. The cheerful host experienced a great reverse, lost a fortune on the Stock Exchange, but bore it with equanimity, saying, when he came home and was asked by his wife how he was, "Pretty well, my love, for a ruined man." Dr. Leifchild, through the medium of rich neighbours, befriended him in his trouble, for which he was ever afterwards grateful; and in subsequent years I enjoyed the friendship of one of his daughters, who with her husband, a Governor of the Bank of England, attended Hornton Street Chapel when I was minister. Her sisters also, who attained rank and fortune, always felt kindly towards the place where their father worshipped; but I knew nothing at that time of the circumstances respecting him described in the "Life of Dr. Leifchild."

Mr. Leifchild met with curious characters in Kensington:

"The Honourable Mrs. S- lived next door to him. One morning she said to him, looking over the garden wall, 'Leifchild, can I come in; I want to speak to you?'

"'Certainly, Mrs. S-,' was the reply, and they were soon together in my father's parlour, when the following conversation took place, the lady commencing abruptly as follows:

"'Leifchild, I want a spade.'

"'A spade, madam!' exclaimed her neighbour in astonishment.

"'Yes, a spade!' was the rejoinder.

"'But, Mrs. S-, your garden is always in good order.'

"'Nonsense! you know what I mean.'

"'Well, I will send the servant round with a spade.'

"'Nonsense! you know I do not mean that.'

"'Excuse me, Mrs. S-, I really do not know what you mean.'

"'Well, then, you frightened me yesterday by saying that very few were converted after fifty years of age, and I am now forty-nine. And then you spoke of the diligent husbandman, and said we must all set to work. Now, I mean to work, and that is why I want a spade.'

"'You shall have one, madam, and gladly too. We have abundance of work, and shall be most thankful for your help.'" [51]

Prosperity attended the labours of Dr. Leifchild. The congregation greatly increased; galleries had to be erected and enlarged; and the income, once estimated at ￡160 a year, rose to more than double that amount. Many were admitted to communion, but in what way exactly does not appear, as the record of affairs respecting that period deals more in temporal than spiritual matters. No ecclesiastical contentions, properly so called, ruffled the stream; but there seem to have been frequent debates in the vestry about the state of the exchequer as regards paying for the gallery, and defraying other incidental expenses. Music created more serious strife. Mr. Broadwood, naturally enough, wished for an instrument to help the singing, and liberally offered to place an organ in the chapel, which Mr. Grey, a more true blue Presbyterian, did not approve. Correspondence arose and vestry meetings were held, in all of which Mr. Broadwood appears to have acted most kindly, but the conscientious scruples of his colleague could not be overcome. The latter left the chapel, and ultimately an organ was erected; but that did not end all trouble, for the organist incurred criticism; and whilst some good folks aimed at musical harmony, they were the occasion of considerable social discord. It is the old story; but no serious division occurred, and after a slight storm there came a pleasant calm.

In our historical sketch it would be bad taste to pry into domestic secrets, but the married life of Dr. Leifchild was so mixed up with the interests of the congregation, that this part of our narrative would be incomplete if no notice was taken of Mrs. Leifchild. She was his second wife, whom he married during this his first pastorate, and the idea he entertained of this excellent lady appears in memoirs of her from his own pen, entitled, "The Minister's Helpmeet." She lightened his cares by undertaking, at his request, the management of pecuniary matters, in which, according to his son's account, he does not appear to have been particularly skilful. "He abhorred all figures, but those of speech, and the latter were too unsubstantial for the support of a household. He would prefer any book to his bank book (a figure of speech, for in truth he never required one); and though not to be accused of extravagance, he certainly was chargeable with some thoughtlessness." [52] "She was a shrewd, discerning woman, with a keen insight into character-a quality of priceless value in a minister's wife. She was generally correct in her opinions of people, and her boldly pronounced forecasts of merits and demerits in the circle of her acquaintance made a deep impression on her family, whatever might be thought of them outside if revealed, which one would hope they were not always." Her share in conducting the psalmody, visiting the congregation, and promoting religious and charitable objects was a topic of talk for years after she left the neighbourhood; and the mutual affection of the genial couple supplied materials for pleasant reminiscences in the minds of many an old friend. Dr. Morison, of Brompton, used to relate how he walked home from Kensington one old year's night or new year's morning, as the moon shone brightly over the frosty road, and hearing in the distance musical voices, he found, as he came nearer, that two people were singing,-

"Come, let us anew

Our journey pursue,

Roll round with the year,

And never stand still till the Master appear."

What was Dr. Morison's surprise to find at last that the words proceeded from the lips of the Kensington pastor and his wife. As she was beloved of him, so he was beloved of her. I have heard her in later days extol, in no measured terms, the excellences of his preaching, and also tell how she liked to accompany him to village services, and visit cottages in the neighbourhood, beating up recruits for the rustic congregation. Once, after a sermon in a little country chapel, I saw her go into the vestry and lovingly kiss the old prophet, exclaiming with genuine fervour, "God bless you, John." Such affection and admiration in an ancient lady seem to me truly beautiful, and I trust no reader will think the incident two trivial to be noticed here.

Some difference of judgment between the pastor and managers respecting the mode of meeting incidental expenses led to a conference, when Dr. Leifchild hinted at the possibility of his removing. He did not approve of the management scheme, and the managers immediately retired. Their letter of resignation was accepted at a Church meeting in December, 1821. It was in August, 1824, that he received an invitation from Bristol, and his acceptance of it he thus intimated to his people:-

"Mr. Leifchild addressed the meeting, and stated that, from a variety of circumstances, he had seen it his duty to accept of an invitation to the pastoral office of Bridge Street, Bristol. He assured the meeting that this step arose from no uncomfortableness in his present situation inducing a wish to depart; from no decay in the interest here; no want of attendance; no diminution in the affections of the people; nor from any pecuniary motives, as the salary proposed at Bristol was the same which he received here, ￡350 per annum, and that he had no prospect of its increase there which he had not here. But his chief motives were the state of his health, which he hoped might be improved by a residence at a greater distance from the metropolis; the prospect of more extensive usefulness at that city; and above all, many indications to his mind that such was the will of Providence. He concluded by requesting any one who was not satisfied, and wished for further information, to put any question to him to that effect, as he had nothing to conceal. No question having been put, the meeting was dissolved with prayer." [54]

Mrs. Leifchild might well be proud of her husband; and here, in conclusion, let me repeat what I have said elsewhere: his sermons were constructed upon the principle of reaching a climax in the peroration. All prepared for that, and he used to lay down this maxim for pulpit oratory: "Begin low, proceed slow; rise higher, catch fire; be self-possessed when most impressed." Though he produced wonderful effects at public meetings, the pulpit was his throne, where he ruled his audience with a kind of imperial sway. His skill in the introduction of religious topics into common conversation was very remarkable, and he abounded in anecdotes illustrative of scripture truth and spiritual experience. On his death bed he fancied himself entering within the everlasting doors, and exclaimed, "Why, don't you hear it, those beautiful harps? You can't all go in with me. I must go first; but keep close behind me, and open the gates wide, wide, wide for all." On his tombstone are inscribed these words of his own: "I will creep as well as I can to Thy gates. I will die at Thy door. Yea, I will be found dead on the threshold of Thy mercy, with the ring of that door in my hand." [55]