All over, there are many who consider themselves Christian brethren;
but the number taking up the name specifically, with a determination
to stick to it denominationally, is small. In all large towns a few
of this complexion may be found; and in Preston odd ones exist whose
shibboleth is "Christian Brethren." We had a spell with them, rather
unexpectedly, on a recent "first day"--"Christian Brethren" always
call Sunday the first day. And it came about in this way: we were
on the point of entering a Dissenting place of worship, when a
kindly-natured somewhat originally-constituted "pillar of the
Church" intercepted our movements, and said, "You mustn't come here
today." "Why?" we asked, and his reply was, that a fiftieth-rate
stray parson, whom "the Church doesn't care for" would be in the
pulpit that day, and that if we wished for "a fair sample" we must
"come next Sunday." We didn't want to be hard, and therefore said
that if "another place" could be found for us, we would take it
instead. Violent cogitation for five minutes ensued, and at last our
friend, more zealous than erudite, conjured up what he termed, "them
here new lot, called Christians."
We had heard of this section before, and at our request he
accompanied us to a small, curiously-constructed building in Meadow-
street. At the side of the doorway we observed a strangely-written,
badly-spelled sign, referring to the different periods when the
"Christian Brethren" met for worship, &c.; and above it another sign
appeared, small and dim, and making some allusion to certain
academical business. Hurrying up fourteen steps we reached a dark,
time-worn door, and after pausing for a moment--listening to some
singing within--our guide, philosopher, &c., opened it, and we
entered the place with him. The room was not "crowded to
suffocation;" its windows were not gathering carbon drops through
the density of human breathing; there were just fourteen persons in
the place--four men, three women, two youths, a girl, and four
children. A Bible and a hymn book--the latter, according to its
preface, being intended for none but the righteous--were handed to
us, and our friend want through the singing in a delightfully-
dreadful style. He appeared to have a way of his own in the business
of psalmody--sang whatever came into his head first, got into all
manner of keys, and considering that he was doing quite enough for
both of us, we remained silent, listening to the general melody, and
drinking in its raptures as placidly as possible.
Prior to describing either the service we witnessed, or the
principles of those participating in it, we must say a word in
reference to the building. It stands on the northern side of Meadow-
street, between sundry cottage houses, retiring a little from the
general frontage, and by its architecture seems to be a cross
between a small school and a minute country meeting-house. It was
originally built in 1844 by Mr. John Todd of this town. He started
it as a chapel on his own account--for at that time he had special
theological notions; and probably considered that he had as much
right to have a place of worship as anybody else. We have been
unable to ascertain the primal denominational character of the
building; the founder of it is unable to tell us; all that we have
been able to get out of him is, that the place "had no name," and
all that we can, therefore, fairly say is, that he built it, and did
either something or nothing in it. Mr. Todd did not occupy it very
long; he struck his colours in about a year; and afterwards it was
used by different Dissenting bodies, including some Scotch Baptists,
on whose behalf the building was altered. Originally it was only one
story high; but when the Baptists went to it a second story was
added, and, having either aspiring notions or considering that they
would be better accommodated in the higher than the lower portion of
the building, they went aloft, leaving the ground floor for
individuals of more earthly proclivities. Two years ago Mr. Todd
sold the building, and about six months since certain Christian
Brethren hired the top room for "first day" purposes, week day work
being carried on in it by an industrious schoolmaster.
Like the Quakers, Christian Brethren are a "peculiar people." They
believe more in being good and doing good than in professing
goodness formally. They recognise some forms and a few ceremonies;
but vital inherent excellence--simple Christianity, plain,
unadorned, and earnest--is their pole-star. They claim to be guided
in all their religious acts solely by the Scriptures; consider that
as "the disciples were first called Christians at Antioch," their
followers have no right to assume any other name; think, baptismally
speaking, that whilst there may be some virtue in sprinkling and
pouring, there can be no mistake about absolute immersion, inasmuch
as that will include everything; think baby baptism unnecessary, and
hold that none except penitent believers, with brains fairly
solidified, should be admitted to the ordinance; maintain that, as
under the apostolic regime, "the disciples came together on the
first day of the week to break bread," Christians should partake of
the sacrament every Sunday; call their ministers "evangelists;" hold
that at general meetings for worship there should be full liberty of
speech; that worship should be perfectly free; and that everything
should be supported on the voluntary principle. Those now
worshipping in Meadow-street are the first "Christian Brethren" we
have had, regularly organised, in Preston. How they will go on we
cannot tell; but if present appearances are any criterion, we are
afraid they will not make very rapid progress. They have about ten
"members" at present; when the "baker's dozen" will be reached is a
mystery.
The executive business of Christian Brethren is managed by deacons;
but the diaconal stage has not yet been reached in Preston. There
are branches of the body in Blackburn, Southport, Bolton, &c.; but
none exist in Lancashire north of Preston. The brethren here have no
Sunday-school; but the establishment of one is contemplated, and it
may be in time fairly attended. What the number of attendants will
be we can't tell, but this may be fairly said--that if each of the
ten members happens, in the lapse of time, to have 12 children, and
if all are sent to school, 120 scholars will be raised, and that
this would constitute a very good muster for a small denomination.
But we must return to the subject.
After the singing, which our friend so improved--and he continued
"in the werry same tone of voice," as poor Sam Cowell used to say in
his "Station Porter's" song, through every hymn--a bearded,
mustached, and energetic young man (Mr. W. Hindle), originally a
Methodist town missionary, at one time connected with Shepherd-
street Ragged School, Preston, and now an "Evangelist" belonging the
Christian Brethren, labouring at Southport, Blackburn, &c., but
generally engaged for Sunday service at Preston, read several verses
from the Bible; then be prayed, his orison being of a free and wide-
spreading type; and afterwards he asked if any "brother" would read
from Holy Writ. A pause followed, doubt and bashfulness apparently
supervening; but at length a calm, thoughtful gentleman got up, and
went through sundry passages in Isaiah. The singing of a hymn
succeeded, and Mr. Hindle then asked if "another brother" would
read. A gentleman, spectacled, with his hair well thrown back, and
very earnest, here rose, and having put a small Bible upon a little
table in front, and taken up a larger volume which the minister had
been perusing, diced into Corinthians, and gave a tolerably
satisfactory reading. The minister then commenced discussing certain
antithetical points in St. Paul's writings, and next asked if "two
or three brethren" would engage in prayer. Thirty seconds elapsed,
and then one of the brethren made a prayer. The sacrament--bread and
wine--directly followed, and after a purse, suddenly pulled out from
some place by the minister, had been sharply handed round for
contributions, a serious young man gave out a hymn, which the
company genially sung. More speaking ensued: but the minister had
it all to himself. He said--"Will any brother speak; now is the
time; if you have anything to state utter it; lose no time, but say
on." Never a brother spoke; eye-squeezing and thumb-turning, and
deep introspection followed; and in the end the minister rose, took
his text from three or four parts of the Bible, and gave a lengthy
discourse, relieved at intervals with genuine outbursts of
eloquence, relative to Christian action and general duty. He seemed
to have a poor notion of many Christians, and somewhat fantastically
illustrated their position by saying that they were, spiritually
troubled with consumption and apparently with diabetes!--were
continually devouring good things, constantly wasting away, and
doing no particular good amongst it at all. We felt the force of
this; but we didn't ejaculate; quietness, except on very excited
occasions, being the rule here. His discourse lasted about 30
minutes, and it was well and forcibly delivered. At the conclusion
two or three of the Brethren came out of their circle--they were all
round a table before the parson--and shook hands with us.
We shortly afterwards retired, leaving our "musical" friend engaged
in a hot discussion with the parson as to the propriety of certain
observations he had made in his sermon. How the matter was fought
out we cannot tell. The Brethren assemble every Sunday morning and
evening in the building; sometimes they have a Bible class meeting
on a Sunday afternoon; and occasionally a week night service. They
are a calm, devout, forlorn-looking class; are distinctly sincere;
have strong liberal notions of Christianity; seem to love one
another considerably, and may at times greet each other with a holy
kiss; but they don't thrive much in Preston. In time they may become
a "great people," but at present their status is small. Ten
Christian Brethren up 14 steps may grow potent eventually; but they
may, figuratively speaking, fall down the steps in the meantime, and
so injure the cause as to defy the influence of theraputics.
A few words now as to Brook-street Primitive Methodist Chapel, which
we visited the same day. This is a tiny building, and appears to
stand in a dangerous region. On one side all the windows are
continually shuttered, so as to prevent the mischievous action of
stones, and in front the door is railed in closely so as to
frustrate the efforts of those who might be inclined to kick it. The
chapel, which is also used for Sunday school purposes, was built in
1856. It is a very humble, plain-looking edifice externally; and
internally it is equally unassuming. You get to it collaterally,
through a pair of narrow doors, which bang about very much in stormy
weather. The roof is supported by two iron pillars, with which a
tall stove pipe keeps company. In the centre there are 16 pews, each
capable of holding three persons, and a large pew which will
accommodate six. Rows of small forms run down each side. Those on
the left are used by men and boys; those on the other side are
principally patronised by women and little children, some of whom
are too young to engage in anything but lactary pursuits. Green is a
favourite colour here. The inside of the pews are green; portions of
the walls are green; some of the windows are similarly coloured at
the base; the music stands in the orchestra are green; and there is
a fine semi-circular display of green at the back of the pulpit. At
the south-eastern corner there are sundry pieces of old timber piled
up; at the opposite side there is a cupboard; and over the entrance
numerous forms, colour poles, and a ladder are placed. These
constitute all the loose ornaments in the chapel. About 150 persons
can be accommodated in the place. When we visited it--the time was
rather unfavourable, owing to the roughness of the weather--sixty-
six persons, exclusive of the choir and the parson, were in it.
The congregation is a very poor one, but it is singularly sincere
and orderly--is not refined but devout, is comparatively unlettered
but honest. There is neither silk, nor satin, nor diamond rings, nor
lavender kids, in the place; a hard working-day plainness, mingled
with poverty, pervades it; but there is no sham seen: if the people
are poor, commonly dressed, noisy--if they effervesce sometimes, and
shout "Hallelujah" with a fiery joyfulness, and pray right out, as
if they were being ship-wrecked or frightened to death, why let them
have their way, for they are happy amongst it. Their convictions are
strong, and when they are at it they go in for a good thing--for
something roughly exquisite, hilariously pious, and consumingly
good. They don't mince matters; are neither dainty nor given to
cant, but shout out what they feel at the moment whatever may become
of it afterwards. Sunday services, prayer meetings, and class
meetings are held in the chapel regularly. The pulpit is occupied by
various persons.
The minister stationed at the place is the Rev. J. Hall--colleague
of the pastor at Saul-street Chapel--but he only takes his turn in
it. A strong-built man, plainly attired, earnest, and not so given
to flights of violent fancy as some preachers, had charge of the
pulpit during our visit. His style was homely, and in his easier
periods he had a knack of putting his left hand into his breeches
pocket, and talking in a semi-conversational Lancashire dialect
style. He dilated for thirty minutes upon the horn-blowing at
Jericho, the siege, the wall-falling, and the sin of Achan; and then
wound up by telling his hearers--drawing the moral from Achan's
fate--that if they did wrong they would be sure to be found out. The
sermon was quite equal to the bulk of homilies given in Primitive
Methodist Chapels, and it seemed to go right home to the
congregation. The plundering of Achan was well told, and when it was
announced that he was stoned with stones, and then burned, the
congregation sent up a mild, half-sighing groan, shaking their heads
a little, and apparently determining to do right as long as ever
they lived.
The music at the chapel was strong, and, remembering the nature of
the place, satisfactory. Three men, three young women, and a boy
managed it. The women sometimes drowned the men; the boy often got
into a shrill mood; but the men finally reached the surface, the
women quietly subsided, the boy toned down his forces somewhat; and
on the whole the singing was well done. After the sermon there came
a prayer meeting. We determined to see it out, preserving that
quietude and respect which one ought always to evince towards those
believing in the great cardinal points of Christanity, however
peculiar may be, the modes of their expression. Only about twenty-
five, who assembled on the southern side of the chapel, joined the
prayer meeting. The proceedings were of a most enthusiastic,
virtuous, hot, and bewildering character. Singing, feet-beating,
praying, hand-clapping, and reciprocal shouting constituted the
programme. One elderly man went fairly wild during the business. He
shook his head, doubled his fists, threw his arms about, ejaculated
with terrible rapidity and force, and appeared to be entirely set on
fire by his feelings. A thorough craze--a wild, beating,
electrifying passion--got completely hold of him for a few minutes,
and he enjoyed the stormy pulsations of it exceedingly. At the end
somebody said, "Now, will some of the women pray?" Instantly a
little old man said, "God bless the women;" "Aye," said another,
while several gave vent to sympathetic sighs. But the women were not
to be drawn out in this style; none of them were in the humour for
praying; they didn't even return the benediction of the little old
man by saying "God bless the men;" they kept quiet, then got up, and
then all walked out; the last words we remember being from a woman,
who, addressing us, said, "Now, draw it mild!"