The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1881-03-26 00:00:00

ROWLAND HILL' S (SURREY) CHAPEL.

A correspondent of The Times writes :--" This
famous old building, by the lapse of the lease of the
land, reverts this week to the freeholders, and will
soon be a thing of the past. It was opened as a free
church by the Rev. Rowland Hill on June 8, 1783.
He continued to minister in it during 50 years,
and died at the age of 88, in the parsonage adjoin-
ing. He was frequently assisted by eminent
clergymen both of the Established and Nonconformist
Churches Venn, Berridge, Thomas Scott being
among the former; Jay, James Parsons among the
latter. The worship was a modified form of the
Anglican Liturgy. Surrey Chapel was never iden-
tified with any denomination, but was a sort of
neutral ground for all Christians. Rowland Hill's
body was interred under the pulpit. Lord Hill,
his nephew, then Commander-in-Chief, was chief
mourner. After an interval cf four years the Rev.
James Sherman was appointed the minister. He
was followed after 17 years by the Rev. Newman
Hall, who has been the pastor nearly 27 years. In
anticipation of the expiration of the lease, the con-
gregation, aided by generous contributions from
outside, purchased a freehold site about half a mile
distant on the Westminster - bridge - road, and
erected the present "Christ Church" with its adjoin-
ing " Hawkstone-hall," so-named from the birthplace
and ancestral seat of the first founder, and the Lincoln
Tower, commemorative of the abolition of American
slavery. The total cost was £64,000, of which i;4,000
still remains unpaid. It was opened for worship
July 4, 1876, when the congregation of Surrey Chapel,
with their minister, migrated to it. Surrey Chapel
has since been occupied by the Primitive Methodists,
who have just been conducting farewell services. On
Wednesday, in last week, a valedictory service for the
whole congregation was conducted by the Rev. 'New-
man Hall and the Rev. Henry Grainger, the former
preaching to a crowded congregation from the text
selected by Rowland Hill at the opening—"We
preach Christ crucified." On Sunday the Rev. Mr.
Senior preached; and in the evening there was a
united Holy Communion service, at which the Rev.
Newman Hall gave a closing address.

Rowland Hill introduced a variety of philanthropic
agencies, which are now in enlarged operation. The
almshouses for 23 poor women are well maintained.
The Sunday-schools which at Mr. Hill's death had
2,400 children, now instruct 5,800, by 433 teachers.
The number of communicants, which was 500, is now
1,150. The Benevolent Society visits annually 500
of the sick poor without regard to religious opinions,
and above £5OO is distributed among the poor.
Secular lectures and entertainment are provided for
working men. Temperance aid clothing societies
and penny banks promote their temporal welfare,
Upwards of 1,500 services especially for the poor are
held annually in lodging-houses, mission-rooms, and
the open air. The sums raised for religious and
philanthropic purposes exclusive of the pastor's salary
amoant to 4500 annually. This varied work, now
perpetuated at Christ Church, owes its origin to the
devoted zeal of the venerated founder, who "being
dead yet speaketh."
The last public gathering was held in Surrey Chapel
on Monday night, when the building was densely
crowded, many of the old Surrey Chapel congre-
gation being present. The meeting was of a religious
but semi-public character. A fine choir sang selected
pieces of sacred music, and there were also hymns in
which the whole meeting joined. The chairman, Mr.
A. Hawkins in the course of his address said the
occasion of their meeting was marked with exceeding
sadness. That was one of the most sacred and hal-
lowed spots in South London—sacred from the
enormous amount of spiritual good done with-
in its walls, and hallowed because lying under-
neath their feet was the body of Rowland Hill,
who spent 50 years of his life in the service of his
Master. Rowland Hill was half Churchman and half
Methodist. From Surrey Chapel the first Sunday
school which blessed the metropolis had been started,
and out of it had arisen 13 other schools, giving
instruction to 5,000 children. During the existence
of the Benevolent Society which grew out of Surrey
Chapel, over 90,000 poor families had been visited by
by the society, and over £40,000 had been distributed
among the poor.
The Rev. B. Senior and other clergymen also spoke
of memories to which the last meeting in Surrey
Chapel gave rise.

The Times, in a leader, noticing the closing of Surrey
Chapel, makes some remarks upon the founder of the
chapel :
" Rowland Hill, of quaint and pious memory. For the
first thirty years of this century few people came rip to
London from the provinces without intending, if possible, to
hear the man whose preaching was reckoned as one of the
religious opportunities, privileges we should say, of the age.
The building was a simple "meeting house." Sixty years
ago Rowland Hill was enjoying a green old age,
softened may be, but not weakened by time. All
who heard him and can remember him must be
conscious that much injustice has been done to him
by the very fragmentary and exceptional character of the
anecdotes told of him, and the observations made by
strangers. •He has come down to us in books as a man of
sudden thoughts and strange utterances, who might at any
moment interrupt the tone of a discourse by an attack on
his wife's head-gear, or by an ejaculatory prayer for the soul
of some well-known actor or man of the world discovered in
the congregation. Within a mile of his parsonage he might
be seen on the pavement as homely and even slovenly in his
attire as any rural vicar stepping out of his study into his
garden. Of course the absolute independence of his
position fostered the belief in his rough eccentricity. But
there were things about him, constituting in fact his power
and his charm, that could not be so easily told as an odd
phrase or an unexpected episode. The truth is he was a
man of great tenderness and gentleness, and with that
habitual sympathy which is necessary for friendships, for
conduct, and for style. His tone was persuasive; his
language was idiomatic and often racy; his topics were at
once solemn and interesting. His eloquence was far from
ambitious, but it came from the heart, which was the common
heart of the congregation. Be was Wesley, indeed, without
his talent for domination and organization, and with no
scope beyond the little family sitting under him. They who
went to hear him, and to take home a report of him, went
also, sometimes out of their way, to hear others. Edward
Irving, about that time, could enthrall for hours as many
as could crowd into his little chapel at Hatton-garden.
Robert Hall charmed the intellectual hearers with his un-
failing fluency, propriety, and force of language. Jabez
Bunting and Newton were heard everywhere, and with
pleasure, though it might be the same sermon which much
practice had perfected. People went to Leicester, to Leeds,
long before Hook's days, to the Temple Church, to the Lock
Chapel, and even to Brighton, to hear good sermons. As
the Establishment was very much more hide-bound in those
days than it is now, there was more recognized liberty of
worship, and even clergymen could tell their parishioners
of the great Nonconformist preachers they had been hearing
in their month's holiday. Indeed, we were approaching
very near to that bifurcation of the sacred office implied in
the words priest and prophet.

"Rowland's Hill's congregation was more congregational
than most, if not all, so denominated in these days. It is
very rarely possible to maintain a congregation by the mere
force of one intense individuality. There must be assistance
of one sort or another from without, and that assistance
inevitably brings influence, if not actual interference. Here
and there an able man preaches his own opinions, and has
at least a good succession of hearers. But Rowland Hill
was regarded as an orthodox and well-affected member of the
Church of England, preaching what every true son of that
Church ought to preach, and no schismatic in either will
or deed. True, he took a course independent of the Church
In its established sense, and independent of the State too, as
he believed. He acted as one who had seen a heavenly
vision and received an apostolic mission, and who could not
but deliver what he had seen, heard, known, and felt. but
there was no novelty or fanaticism in his preaching, not, at
least, in those days that came within living memory, for he
was about as grave, as quiet, and as cautious as the most
jealdus country squire would desire the village pastor of his
choice to be. His hold on his congregation was dip which
has never been found to fail yet. He seemed to believe
what he said, to think it very important, and to be resolved
to act up to it.' . . .