Soon after the jubilee had been celebrated, the Nonconformist part of English Christendom was thrown into excitement by Lord Sidmouth’s Bill for abridging the liberty of preaching, under pretence of rectifying an abuse. He complained that licences to preach were sought in order to evade parish duties and militia service, and urged that there should be put upon grants of licence certain restrictions which Dissenters did not approve. The deputies of the three denominations rose in determined opposition to this intermeddling with religious liberty, and petitions against it poured into the Houses of Parliament. The Kensington people joined other Nonconformists in resisting the mischievous scheme, and promised the London committee “the utmost assistance and cordial co-operation”; they also subscribed towards defraying expenses incurred by this “well meant and well timed” assertion of religious freedom. {40} Amongst the families connected with the Church during Dr. Leifchild’s pastorate, two in particular may be mentioned, noteworthy on their own account, and whom I can describe from personal knowledge. The Talfourds attended for some years. The mother was one of those saintly women who when once seen can never be forgotten. She belonged to the class of matrons immortalized by Solomon. “The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her.” “She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.” All this is eminently true of Mrs. Talfourd; and there she used to sit and listen to her pastor in one of the square green pews at Hornton Street, with her “children about her”; one of whom, when a matron and mother, was, during my own ministry, a comfort and a joy. The most distinguished of her sons—others became distinguished in other ways—was Mr. Justice Talfourd, who for some time not only adorned the judicial bench, but before doing so made a mark on literature and politics, by authorship and eloquence. The good old lady told me of his boyish days, of his school-life at Mill Hill; read to me one of his letters, in which he spoke of his school-fellows, especially “one Hamilton,” who joined a party that met for worship privately, and was “very flowery in his prayers.” This Hamilton was no other than the subsequently famous Nonconformist minister of Leeds. The young barrister wrote an article on pulpit oratory, in which he fully described the preacher to whom he listened on Sundays:— “Mr. Leifchild is one of those who feels ‘the future in the instant.’ He has almost as intense a consciousness of the world to come as he has of the visible objects around him. He speaks not only as believing, but as _seeing_ that which is invisible.