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.