In the Sunday-school there are a little over 300 children on the books, and an average attendance of about 100 in the morning and 220 in the afternoon. There is a “Home Missionary Society,” which employs twelve tract distributors; a “Maternal Society,” a regular “Mothers’ Meeting,” and a “Dorcas Society.” In its late troubles, as a matter of course, the finances of the church became deranged and fell into arrears. Although surely improving, a rather heavy balance is still due to the treasurer. Yet, notwithstanding, we observe that the congregation contributed last year 43l. 18s. 7d. to foreign missions. The church draws its home support from pew-rents, which last year amounted to 185l. 11s., and a weekly offertory, a special fund, incidental sources, and collections, yielding in all, from July 1869 to July 1870, 497l. 1s. 11d.
The order of services is: Sunday—Prayer-meeting at 10.15, public worship at 11 a.m. and 7 p.m.; Monday, prayer-meeting at 7.30; Wednesday, “Congregational Bible-class,” a service intended for the simple exposition of any passage of Scripture upon which any person present might wish comment offered; alternating with singing classes, teachers’ meetings, church meetings, &c. Inquirers’ meetings are held on Monday evenings by the pastor in the Vestry, from 7 to 7.30. Communion on the first Sabbath in each month after the evening service, and on the third Sabbath after the morning service.
The Deacons are eight in number—viz., Messrs. W. Baynes, W. Knight, Charles Chambers, Dr. Pennell, Dr. Manning; Messrs. Catchpole, Hunt, and Healy.
THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH OF ST. FRANCIS D’ASSISI, NOTTING HILL.
This church is situated in Pottery lane, near the north end of Portland-road, bordering on the Potteries, from the poor population of which—more particularly the Irish portion—it draws its congregation. The building and the school attached occupy one side of the road, and a row of stables the other; and, as though not to be desecrated by looking on the latter, there is not a noticeable window in the road side of the church; consequently no architectural attraction in the exterior, which is about as uninviting as the site on which it stands. It is not until one has passed through a small enclosed courtyard, thence by an unexpected turn into a half-hidden portico, and again through a cloistered doorway—all impressing with a strong idea of seclusion—that he becomes really conscious of the presence of an ecclesiastical edifice. Everything to this point is plain as plainness itself—there being nothing to be seen but a heavy, bulky pile of common brickwork, wearing something of the aspect of a very poor monastic enclosure. But on reaching the interior a different impression is awakened, although still heaviness and gloom prevail. The principal nave is short, and that, with the side called “Our Lady’s Chapel,” are together not capable of holding more than about 500 persons. At the same time it looks overcrowded with pillars, which darken and intercept an otherwise limited view. The effect of the whole is that of strength, but dimness and lowness. The architecture is of a mixed kind, in which the Italian is prominent, with a slight blending of Gothic. The diminished effect of space and light are, however, of course relieved by the illuminations and ornaments peculiar to a Roman Catholic church—the numerous candles, the images, the high altar, its bright furniture, drapery, and ministrant priests, standing out conspicuously, and lit by daylight from the chancel-windows. Moreover, a strip of the walls through the full length on both sides is ornamented with some effective painting on slate, representing various passages in our Lord’s sufferings, by Westlake, who also executed a couple of frescoes at the back of the side altars, and the subjects of three or four stained windows. The decorations of the large side-altars to the Virgin and St. Francis are partially seen through the commingling columns. The body of the church is filled with plain benches and cane-bottomed chairs, all of which are much the worse for wear, and in their present state looking quite in keeping with the voluntary austerity and poverty of the famous mendicant friar of the thirteenth century from whom the church derives its name, and whom it regards as its patron saint, St. Francis D’Assisi. A charge is made for entering the seats, and be it noted that not one was observed to enter without dropping his coin, larger or smaller, in the plate. The fee appears to be considered in the light of a weekly offering. One of the most notable objects in the church is the baptistry, where there is a handsome marble font, with a large conical lid and fixed pulley machinery for raising it.
This church was built ten years ago, by Mr. Clutton, as a chapel of case to the larger Roman Catholic cause—St. Mary’s, Bayswater—which establishment was the first outcome of the late Cardinal Wiseman’s Ultramontane mission in London. The Rev. Father H. A. Rawse, M.A., then of the Oratory, Brompton, and previously an Anglican priest of Oxford, illustrated his zeal as a convert to Rome by the donation of 7,000l. to the St. Francis enterprise, and became its first resident priest. The Rev. Father Lescher is the present minister, who is occasionally assisted by priests from the parent church at Bayswater, or from the Oratory, and had present, on the morning of our visit, Father Robertson, from the former place. Father Lescher himself has lately given proof of his zeal by the handsome gift of 500l. towards 1,400l. for the purchase of the Silchester Hall, recently occupied by the Methodists, and being acquired by the Catholics for a school. Their present day-school, in Pottery-lane, has about 160 pupils, who pay, as a rule, a penny per week, the necessary balance being made up by other funds.
Father Lescher was the preacher for the morning, and prefaced his homily by several announcements, one of which had reference to looking after their pauper children who were taken to the Kensington Workhouse. On any child being taken there, notice was to be given to the priest, who would cause inquiry to be made as to the spiritual oversight of such children; and the congregation were earnestly exhorted to attend to this, as he said it would “prevent the proselytism of the poor.” He congratulated them that they had succeeded in sending some Roman Catholics to the Board at the last election, and so had fared better of late. But he urged them to endeavour to return more at the next election, in order that their prospects in regard to the children might be still more improved!
The rev. father took for his text Ephesians iv. 23, 24, “And be renewed in the spirit of your mind; and that ye put on the new man; which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness.” The discourse was a simple, pointed extempore address on regeneration, or, as the preacher sometimes called it, “conversion,” occupying about thirty minutes. There was “a great difference between the Christian and the heathen.” “We were not born Christians, but sinners; and sin would master us unless a change be wrought in us.” “Heresy always had some truth in it; but it was truth carried out without being duly limited by other truths.” Thus as to regeneration, which was wrought by the grace of God in the soul—no doubt that grace began to work in baptism. But a man was not regenerate or converted because he had been baptized, for he might be living in sin. Conversion was a thing to go on continually through a man’s life. Europe was covered all over with a race of baptized, but really unregenerate men. Sin should be completely taken out of our heart. From beginning to end regeneration was God’s work. He made us new creatures. Christ was a new man in this world, and was a pattern to which we were to be conformed; we must be like him, setting aside all worldly-vain, foolish, and vicious thoughts. St. Francis was an example, whose feast they had just celebrated, who, by the grace of God, was enabled to live a life of devotion and self-denial. “Let them pray to St. Francis, that he might help them to follow in his steps.” Apart from the exhortation to pray to St. Francis, many will take the essence, form, and language of this outline as thoroughly Evangelical. There appears to be a departure from the strict doctrine of essential sacramental efficacy, and a distinct insistence on the necessity of a change of heart and of a holy life. It was high mass, and one of Mozart’s formed the musical part. The organ is a small one, but sweet in tone, and played by a new organist—a pupil from the Pro-Cathedral. The choir did not contain any distinguished voice, but the singing, though less florid, was more appropriate than the extreme artistic affectations of the Oratory and Pro Cathedral. On the previous Wednesday—which was the Roman Catholic Feast Day of St. Francis D’Assisi—Archbishop Manning had preached in the church.
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?