THE PLYMOUTH BRETHREN, NOTTING HILL.
The meeting-place of this peculiar people is in an upper room, Clarendon-place, Clarendon-road, Notting-hill. It appears filled with 150 persons, and as far as we could incidentally learn they have about eighty acknowledged brethren and sisters. This society is the result of a division in the one formerly united in Bayswater, and is composed of what are termed the “Darbyite party” in that schism. The “Brethren” have been in West London over twenty years, but this part of their small body has been at Clarendon-place five or six years. They form the only congregation of that persuasion in the parish of Kensington. We found them on visit to be an extremely close and uncommunicative people, with the single exception of an amiable sister, next whom we happened to sit, and who politely tendered more information than we could subsequently extract from all the brethren. It was the usual Sunday morning service of “breaking of bread.” The loaf, which was a plain baker’s loaf, was in the centre of a table; in the coarse of the “breaking” the middle of it disappeared, and little but the shell remained. There were also two plain glasses upon the table. As a rule these services of bread-breaking are conducted in silence; but on this occasion some speaking was allowed, and two of the leading brethren in succession read and commented in a familiar way upon portions of Scripture. Some of the remarks we are obliged to notice were extremely simple, quite spontaneous, and were delivered under what the speakers appeared to think spiritual impulses. There was, however, nothing very instructive or useful in what was said. The speaking done, a brother engaged in prayer, and after another brother had read a list of names of persons who wished, on the next Sabbath, to break bread with them, one marriage of a brother and sister to take place on the following Saturday, and two burials for that day, the meeting terminated. In separating the amount of hand-shaking and friendly, and doubtless cordial, recognition of each other, was so protracted that we could not get from our extra saint seat for a considerable time. When at length we got near the table and encountered a few of the leading brethren, being invited thereto by our observant and kindly sister, we endeavoured with all humility to make acquaintance with the case as it stood; but, we are sorry to say, found ourselves impeded at every step. Our object was keenly and suspiciously canvassed. On being simply told that our design was in general to furnish through the Press a connective view of the Christian influences and operations at work upon this vast population, and by so doing to interest the public more fully on the subject, we were met with indescribable scorn at the mention of the “Press.” They would consider it “a sin” to give any information to the “Press.” It was the curse of the world, was the “Press.” On being asked if there was not a Christian side to the “Press,” they emphatically answered “No.” There was no such thing as a “religious Press.” It was “all worldly” from beginning to end. The magazines even of the religious bodies were only trying to unite religion and the world. With amusing simplicity one brother asked if by the “Press” we meant “that machine by which tracts, &c., were printed;” and we had to explain that by the “Press” in this connection we meant “a Christian literature as opposed to what was worldly, secular, or infidel.” With one voice they exclaimed there was “no such thing.” We asked if they did not hope to make some use of Christian literature in striving to effect the world’s conversion. The reply to this important question given by the principal brother very gravely was, “No; we have nothing to do with the world; our work is to gather God’s saints out of the world.” “But,” we rejoined, “is not the Gospel sent to the world? And did not the Son of God come to save the world?” The answer was unhesitatingly given by the same gentleman, “No; it was to collect his saints out of the earth.” After this we could not prolong the conversation and took our leave; but before we had left the landing to descend the stairs we were followed by a young man commissioned to ask us this question, “Have you eternal life?” In answer, we affirmed our belief and hope that we had, and asserted our experience of conversion many years ago. On this we were reminded that there “was but one way.” We replied that the “one way” was found in every Christian Church and in the Church Catholic; but, strange to say, this declaration was met with evident disbelief. “God,” it was said, “did not make sects.” We left, asking ourselves the question, How upon these principles could the great purpose of the Son of God in this world be answered?
After the above appeared in the Suburban Press a letter of explanation was received by the Editor from one of the brethren, which will be found among the supplementary notes. The latter appears to have been written upon reflection, whilst the preceding conversation was doubtless conducted upon the feeling of the moment. Yet, it faithfully reflected the peculiarities of the members, who appear to have no faith in anything but what is strictly identified with their own belief and practice; altogether too narrow for the expanding evangelistic tendencies of the age.