The sermon was founded on 1 Cor. i. 20—“Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?” Having on the previous Sunday treated of bodily mortification and fasting, the preacher would now speak of the subjugation of human imagination, intellect and reason to the dominion of truth—of the folly of the “wise,” the “scribe,” the “disputer of this world,” in view of the “wisdom of God.” In what was mainly an extempore address, aided only by copious notes, and accompanied by much declamation and earnest action, Mr. Haines denounced the intellect and literature of the day as extremely sordid, timeserving, and egotistic. It was “a day of advertisements,” when intellect was “bought and sold over the counter,” when one might “buy all the intellect of England for gold, and for so many guineas have so many pages;” and if in any case pride prevented this degradation, literature was then “but the expression of an extreme egotism.” Periodicals and books were “pretentious and misleading;” the novels of the age embodied its “sensualistic intellect;” our art in its exhibitions handed down pictures and ideas of depravity. “It would be well if the scientific world would send forth no more theories.” In short the preacher held in the profoundest contempt all the ordinary exercises of the human mind and reason. Perverted intellect had produced anarchy in America, revolution and bloodshed in Europe; and in the history of Christianity there had been nothing but contention and division since the intellect of the church first departed from the “holy Catholic religion,” and so rendered government impossible. The preacher eulogised, indeed, intellect sitting at the feet of Christ; but this was so explained as to mean, in fact, sitting at the feet of “Holy Catholic Church.” This part of the sermon was, to our minds, a virtual denouncement of the Protestant Reformation. In speaking of the mysteries of religion against which the world’s intellect revolted, the preacher adverted to that one, “the sacrifice of the altar,” which they were then daily celebrating. “Christ was in Heaven, but he was also there, yea,” glancing round to the spot, “on that altar was the real body and the real blood of our Lord.” Would they deny these mysteries because they could not understand them? Were there not mysteries in all nature? and did not the saint see all around him the great sacrifice of nature—the outward and visible sign of the inward, present, and omnipotent God? After sermon the preacher returns to the altar, when a fourth functionary appears, whom we suppose must be termed an acolyte. He carries in his hand a taper, with which he proceeds to light the candles in the candelabra at either end of the altar, each having seven lights. A hymn is being sung and the collection made at the same time, and when ended the offertory bags are borne to the altar, and, being solemnly placed upon it, one of the priests, prostrating himself before it, raises the offering high towards the cross, and there holds it for some moments in the act of consecration, after which the Benediction is pronounced. The church in the morning is filled with a congregation chiefly composed of the higher middle classes of the people, and in the evening principally of the poor of the immediate locality.

ST. PHILIP’S, SOUTH KENSINGTON.

A pleasant walk on a Sunday morning from westward, through that fashionable part of Kensington known as the Addison-road and Warwick-gardens, brings us to the Church of St. Philip, which stands at the corner where the Earl’s-court and Pembroke-roads join. It is a brick structure in the perpendicular decorated style belonging to the fifteenth century; and as, with its modest spire, it comes into view, and the worshippers slowly moving up every main approach, in response to the “church-going bell,” the whole produces a very pleasing effect. As one silently views the interior a somewhat mystical impression imperceptibly steals upon him. The architect, Mr. Thomas Johnson, of Lichfield, would appear to have studied and followed out the ideal of a former period in the details generally. This is especially seen in the windows, the arcades, &c. The nave has a lofty aspect, much more so than would be expected from the exterior view.

This church was built in 1858, and its district taken principally out of St. Barnabas, with a small portion from the old Kensington parish. It originally had accommodation for 1,000, but, in consequence of the increasing demand, it was enlarged in 1862 to 1,400 sittings, 500 of which are free. The cost of both the original building and the subsequent enlargement has been almost entirely borne by the Vicar, the Rev. J. Dickson Claxton, M.A., of Trinity College, Cambridge, he having been aided only to the amount of 1,400l. or 1,500l. in subscriptions, which were towards the first erection. The enlargement was carried out at his own sole cost. The great need of this was manifest from the magic rapidity with which population increased in the neighbourhood of the church. It stood at 8,000 until recently—the spring of 1869—when the formation of the sub-district of St. Matthias reduced it to 5,000. But so rapid is the growth that it has already again risen to fully 6,000. There is at present but one curate, the Rev. J. C. Sykes, B.A., of Queen’s College, Cambridge.

Three schools are in part connected with the church, being maintained in conjunction with St. Barnabas, and containing altogether upwards of 600 children.

The other charities maintained alone by St. Philip’s are several. There are “A Provident Fund and District Visiting Charity,” a “Maternity Charity,” “Work Charity,” “Soup Charity,” “Blanket Charity,” and “Old Clothing Charity.” Taking the year round it would seem that a large amount of temporal comfort most be distributed over the poorer parts of the district by these benevolent operations. The church itself contains several objects of interest worthy of note. There is a splendid reredos of Caen stone and alabaster, and a peculiarly handsome altar-rail of vert antique and alabaster. Over the altar is a beautiful stained window by Heaton and Butler, at the west end an immense and magnificent one to the memory of the late Lord Holland, also two other small memorial windows, all by the same firm. The organ is a superior instrument by Walker, of the Tottenham-court road, and cost upwards of 600l. It is played by Mrs. Higgins—whose husband holds the post of master over a choir without surplices, chiefly voluntary, aided by a few paid voices. Under the same direction there a large choral association connected with church. The services are principally, through not exclusively, Anglican. In the morning the responses are intoned, and at night the choral is adopted. Daily prayer at 9.30 a.m. and 5 p.m. On Sundays there is a children’s service at 9.30 a.m., and full service at 11 a.m., 3.30 p.m., and at 7 p.m. The weekly offertory, and proceeds of the Communion Service twice a month, are solely relied upon for the maintenance of the charities and church expenses, in lieu of church rates.

The vestments of the clergy are of the simplest and most irreproachable kind, and the performance of the service according to the order of the Common Prayer. There is certainly no trifling with rubrics, and no need for dexterous evasion of ecclesiastical injunctions. Yet the service we attended was earnest and solemn. The curate read audibly, and the preacher, who happened not to be the Vicar, was scholarly and Evangelical. But, on the whole, the service might be deemed a little too quiet to be a perfect model of what a service in our English Church should be. As to the general ministry under the Rev. J. D. Claxton, whom we had not the pleasure of hearing in propria persona, its effects must be taken as proofs of its acceptableness and usefulness. Commencing, as we understand, with an original congregation of ninety, he has had the gratification of seeing it increase to 1,400, and that, too, whilst so many other churches and chapels have risen all around. The congregation appeared to our eye to bear that settled and orderly aspect which is one of the readiest proofs of ministerial success and pastoral fidelity; and not the least pleasing feature was the large number of the poorer people who filled the free seats, and regarded with attention and reverence every part of the service. An official kept the door, who cannot be termed a verger, scarcely a beadle, but who, if he had no rod or robe, or staff, had a coat with bright buttons fixed upon a brown cloth. He handed the stranger over to the care of a matronly-looking female inside, with a white cap, who very courteously led the way to a seat. When there, the general effect upon us undoubtedly was that we were in a church of the people—one where the people were to be found quite at home in their worship of the Creator, and free from the stiffness and restraint of more tinselled and conventional forms.

ST. STEPHEN’S, GLOUCESTER ROAD.

St. Stephen’s, close to the Queen’s-gate-gardens in the Gloucester-road, South Kensington, is a very handsome and well-proportioned church, and is a pretty object seen from the Cromwell-road. The composition of its west front is remarkably good, and indeed there exists an agreeable harmony in the design and in the quiet general tone of colour in the stone of which it is built that is pleasing to the eye. There is a refined look about the building, and perhaps it would not be too much to say that it seems accustomed to good society. To the architect there are some portions of the detail rather interesting. The cloistered doorways beneath the buttresses, the triplet and rose-windows of the east front, and the north porch and back turret are all worthy of remark. The interior is exceedingly effective and elegant. Again the harmony strikes one as perfect; there is a peaceful influence produced by the quiet colouring and grey columns and excellent proportions of the church, such as ought to belong to the house of God. There is nothing glaring, nothing particular to arrest or attract the eye, yet every part is worthy of inspection, and the parts taken together produce one of the best and most exquisitely charming interiors with which we are acquainted in this neighbourhood. The plan of the church may be said to be cruciform, and is divided into a nave and aisles, north and south transepts, and chancel and aisles. The grey columns of the nave support the arcades and clerestory, and the light nave roof springs from angel-corbelled columns. The chancel arch is well-proportioned, and the dog-tooth enrichments harmonise with the caps of the columns. The chancel is parted from the aisles by light screens supported by alabaster columns, and on the north side above the screen is the organ loft, and the south side is occupied by a gallery. The chancel itself is simply decorated, the Communion-table space without any colouring other than of the softest kind. Three figures of saints occupy the triplet—St. Stephen filling the centre, and St. John and St. Paul the side lights; the rose window over has the Saviour in His Ascension scene. The stone pulpit on the north side of the chancel arch is well designed, and its little alabaster and coloured marble columns relieve the still colour of the stone. The font, of similar design, occupies a slight recess in the baptistry, close to the north porch door. An octagonal vestry is at the south east angle of the church. A new west gallery is not exactly an improvement to the effect. The pewing and stall seats are of good design. The passages are floored with tiles of simple pattern. The architecture is early English.

The one drawback to the external appearance of this church is its want of relative elevation. Its base appears to drop about two feet below the level of the roads and ways which form its approaches. The fault was that of the architect, who did not calculate on the effect of making-up roads where they had not previously existed. In 1866, when the church was built, that part of South Kensington was only beginning to open up. The base of the edifice should, therefore, have been raised. But instead of this the architect appears to have proceeded in utter disregard of the near and certain future of the locality. The result is that whereas originally steps upward were required to enter by the gates, it is now necessary to descend in reaching the interior; and a flat and depressed aspect is thus given to a building which would otherwise have been a most prominent and pleasing object in the view. We understand it is intended to add a spire to the edifice very shortly, and this will probably somewhat relieve to the eye the defect of which we have spoken.