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]