I will deal at once with the objection which Mr. Charrington made to

the renewal of the licenses to the Empire Theatre of Varieties in

Leicester Square. In order to make certain references in the report

intelligible to the reader, I must say that one of Mr. Charrington's

inspectors--a Mr. Frye--was a grocer by trade. Half the ribald press

of London, for many days, constantly referred to this fact. "Mr.

Charrington and his Grocer" became a byword in the columns of purely

worldly newspapers. It was a cheap enough joke, and I entirely fail to

see why a grocer should not be as efficient a critic of morals as any

one else. But if Mr. Frye had been a solicitor, a banker, or a vendor

of smoked spectacles, through which to look at an eclipse, the

comments would have been just the same.

Mr. George Edwardes applied for the renewal of the music and dancing

license held by the Empire Theatre, Leicester Square.

Mr. Charrington: I oppose this license.

Mr. Forest Fulton, M.P., who appeared for the applicant, said no

notice of opposition had been received.

The Chairman asked whether Mr. Edwardes would prefer to have the case

adjourned.

Major Probyn: I think it exceedingly unfair to applicants not to have

had notice of opposition. It is not at all in conformity with English

ideas of fair play.

Mr. Beachcroft thought that as the option of having the case adjourned

was given, there was no case of complaint.

The Chairman: The Theatres Committees were not aware of any opposition

until this moment.

Mr. Forest Fulton said the difficulty of course was that they had no

knowledge whatever of the nature of the complaint which was made,

whether it was that they were harbouring prostitutes, or allowing

indecent songs.

The Chairman observed that it was quite as inconvenient to the

Committee as it was to the applicant.

Mr. Charrington said that the reason of his opposition was that the

Empire was not only the resort of prostitutes, but that the

prostitution was of a most dangerous character to those who went to

the house. The license he had opposed previously affected the poor of

the East End of London, whereas in this case the license was

particularly dangerous to young men of the better class. He was told

on good authority that there might be seen in the hall young fellows

from Oxford and Cambridge, who there saw vice and prostitution in its

most attractive form. The prostitutes, who were often in evening

dress, were to be found in the best parts of the house, and not, as in

other music halls, in the cheaper seats. If the committee did not see

their way to withdraw the license, he trusted that they might draw

attention to the state of matters and so deter many from being

inveigled into this place. It was also a frightful source of

temptation to young women of the poorer classes. The evidence of his

informant would show that the dresses of the performers were very

indecent, especially in the ballet called "A Dream of Wealth." He

opposed the licenses so that he might not again be accused of

partiality in attacking poor places of entertainment only.

The Inspector Bartlett was then called.

Mr. Forest Fulton: Oh, this is the grocer again.

Witness, in answer to Mr. Charrington, said he visited the Empire, and

thought that the dresses were very objectionable as they exposed the

shapes of the performers very much. He thought them very indecent.

That was in the ballet called "A Dream of Wealth."

Did you see any people who were disgusted besides yourself?--There was

a lady sitting before me with her daughter, and I heard----

Mr. Forest Fulton: I believe I am in the presence of a judicial

tribunal, and the statement of this witness as to what he heard

somebody say who is not to be called is in defiance of the first

principle of law and justice as administered in this country.

Mr. Charrington: Did other people show by their behaviour that they

were disgusted? Did you not hear them?

The Chairman: Objection is taken to the question, and we must be

governed, as near as may be, by the practice in courts of law.

Mr. Forest Fulton said he objected from every point of view. The

witness could give the impression upon his own mind, but not upon the

minds of other people.

Witness: Some people went out.

Mr. Forest Fulton said the witness was not able to peer into the minds

of other people. He said some people went out, but they might have

gone out for fifty reasons.

Mr. Charrington: Have you not evidence that they said they were

disgusted?

Witness: I only heard----

The Chairman: You must confine yourself as to what this witness saw

that he thought of an objectionable character.

Mr. Charrington: Tell us what you saw, especially as to the indecency

of the dresses.

Witness: My impression was that the dresses were indecent.

Mr. Charrington: I will ask what was the impression upon the audience,

because I think that is important.

The Chairman: The witness has stated that he considered the dresses

were objectionable, but he has not said why they were objectionable.

Mr. Forest Fulton: He said that the dresses were objectionable as

disclosing the shapes of the performers.

[Illustration: MR. CHARRINGTON APPARENTLY SNUFFED OUT

A widely circulated cartoon during the Licensing Fight on the London

County Council

[_To face p. 142._]

Replying to further questions by Mr. Charrington, witness said he

found in the dress circle a number of prostitutes, respectably

dressed, walking about in twos. They were very well-dressed indeed. In

the dress circle he counted twenty or thirty. He did not see them in

other parts of the house, but he saw one come downstairs, look about,

and go up again. He was there about three hours. He did not see them

drinking with gentlemen. He went outside, and saw them go away in

hansom cabs--some with gentlemen. He saw one come down with a decanter

of brandy under her "harm," get into a hansom, and drive away with a

gentleman. He believed she was a prostitute.

Cross-examined by Mr. Forest Fulton: I only once visited this place. I

have been many times in a theatre. I have never seen a ballet at the

theatre or the opera. I have seen ladies in evening dress at the

theatre. There was nothing very different in this case from the

ordinary evening dress worn by the people of this country as a matter

of habit. I do not know that it is possible for any ballet to be

performed without the performer wearing tights underneath the dress. I

believe that it is the practice in every country in the world that

where a ballet is being performed, tights are worn under the dress.

That was what was done here.

The tights are worn under the short dresses?--They had long dresses,

but they opened down the side.

What do you mean?--The dresses were drawn up at the sides.

You were shocked?--Not shocked, but I think it was indecent.

You thought it was indecent?--Yes.

But you were not shocked?--No.

In further cross-examination witness said he submitted his report to

Mr. Charrington a few days ago. He did not do so sooner because he had

several places to visit, and he was told to send in all his reports

together, and Mr. Charrington had been out of town. This was his first

visit to the Empire. He knew the women were prostitutes by their way

of walking round. It was different from the way ordinary people

walked, in respect that they walked in twos.

Do I understand you to ask the committee to say that they were

prostitutes because they walked in twos? And the manner they were

going about, and, when they passed by people, the suggestions they

made with their eyes.

Did they look at you?--I do not know as they did.

Did they look at you in the manner you have suggested?--I was hardly

swell enough for that.

Did you see anything come of the looking?--No. I did not see that

anybody took notice of them. I may say I saw one walk away and sit

down beside a gentleman and get into conversation with him. That was

the only case I observed. I cannot say I observed any of the

undergraduates who have been spoken about. Beyond the case I have

mentioned, I saw the women do nothing except walk about. The lady who

went downstairs turned back. I cannot say if she saw me when she

turned back. I cannot say if this is the reason she turned back.

Nobody spoke to her. My impression was that she was a prostitute. She

never solicited me--none of them ever did. The contents of the

decanter the lady brought down might have been sherry: it might have

been toast and water. I cannot say whether I said in my report that

the decanter contained brandy. I saw the lady in the place earlier in

the evening. She did not have the decanter then. She did not solicit

anybody as far as I saw."

Several members of the Committee stating they did not wish any more of

this class of evidence.

Mr. Charrington said he wished to call the responsible manager of the

Empire.

Mr. George Edwardes was accordingly examined by Mr. Charrington, and

stated that he was responsible manager of the Empire. They did not

knowingly admit prostitutes to the Empire. They turned away ten or

twelve every night. An inspector of police was stationed at the

money-box to refuse them admission.

If a member of the committee says he has been there, and has seen

fifty or sixty prostitutes, you would say he was a liar?

The Chairman suggested that Mr. Charrington should not put such

questions.

Mr. Charrington: If a gentleman went into the Empire and said there

were seventy or eighty prostitutes there, you would say he must have

made a mistake?

Mr. Edwardes: I should ask him to go with me and point them out. I

deliberately say we do not admit women into the Empire if we know them

to be prostitutes. The same applies to brothel-keepers and bullies. We

keep a large staff of police and detectives to stop that.

Mr. Charrington: We know all about the police. We do not want any

evidence from them. I do not think I need ask you any more. I shall,

however, ask the police to come forward and swear, probably as usual.

Several members warmly protested against this as an insinuation

against the police.

Inspector Burke was then called, and stated that the report to the

Commissioner of Police was that the house was well conducted. He

testified that, in his belief, every effort was made to keep out

prostitutes. Prostitutes might be admitted, but they were women who

were not known as such.

Mr. Davis, who said he was interested in the welfare of the people of

London as any member of the Council, said he went there one Saturday

night and found the place well conducted. He was not accosted there,

although he was when he got into the street.

Mr. Charrington said his contention was not as to the behaviour of the

prostitutes, but as to their presence.

Mr. Davis said it was the case that prostitutes were to be found at

fashionable West End churches.

The Chairman then announced that the Committee were in favour of

recommending that the license be granted. He wished to say that the

Committee generally did not agree with what had been said as to the

evidence of the police, and that it was not just to say their evidence

was untrustworthy.

* * * * *

In opposing the licenses at the London County Council of some of these

more notorious music halls, Mr. Charrington, according to the regular

procedure of the council, had to conduct the whole case himself

without any legal training, and was not able to have a barrister to

speak for him. On one occasion he had Sir Charles Russell opposed to

him, and also Mr. Grain, these eminent counsel representing the music

halls. During the case in question some point arose in regard to one

of the halls, and Mr. Charrington said to Sir Charles that the noise

was so great on the other side that it drowned the counsel's voice and

perhaps he did not hear correctly what Sir Charles had just said. But

if he _had_ said so-and-so, Mr. Charrington thought that he would find

that he was misinformed. Sir Charles thereupon consulted his

solicitor, and rising to his feet, bowed, and said, "That is so, Mr.

Charrington." At the conclusion of the case Mr. Grain came over to Mr.

Charrington and said, "I really must congratulate you, Mr.

Charrington, on the way in which you have stood to your guns."

One can read this story, this official account of Frederick

Charrington's noble efforts to rid London of what he firmly believed

to be a plague-spot, from two points of view. But one can only come

to one conclusion about the earnestness of the man himself.

I am personally not very sympathetic to this effort of Charrington's,

in those days. I think he would have been better advised to have

realised that men and women cannot be made good by any Act of

Parliament. Of the personal campaign outside Lusby's Music Hall I

think very differently. He was then endeavouring to oppose the views

and the solace of Religion to the forces of Evil.

No crowd encircled him about,

He stood despised with two or three--

But like a spring in summer drought,

The word he uttered, quickened me.

Since then I tread the pilgrims' way,

Still plodding on through sun and rain,

But, like a star shines out that day,

The day which saw me born again.

Here, he was making a well-meant endeavour to do something which the

experience of life shows to be impossible. But whatever we may think

of the method, one cannot but admire the courage which made this man

hold himself up to public obloquy, misrepresentation, misunderstanding,

in the way he did. I am writing the life of Frederick Charrington as

it has occurred, and the more I engross myself with his splendid and

fearless history, the more I admire the man himself. I am of another

generation. Social circumstances have altered since the time of which

I write. Other ideas occupy the public mind. But I do ask you, who

read this book, to think with me, and to join with me, in an

admiration for such a stern and uncompromising fighter for what he

believed to be the truth.

I have said that Mr. Charrington's name was bandied about among the

sensual and the vulgar--all over England--as a term of reproach. It

will be as well if I give some concrete instances of this. For one

thing he was cruelly caricatured in all sorts of illustrated

papers--many of the drawings quite passing the limits of legitimate

fun; and at certain of the theatres grotesque and hideous figures were

brought upon the scene designed to represent him and introduced to the

audiences in that way. The opposition went as far as it dared. Of what

was said _a vive voix_ I can only surmise, but it can be estimated

from the virulence and bitterness of the printed attacks made upon Mr.

Charrington at this time.

The _Scots Observer_, for example--and the paper, as every one knows,

was most brilliantly served by the best young literary blood of the

day--wrote as follows--

"By the gracious condescension of the London County Council,

that august body which includes all bright, particular stars

of vestrydom and watches with maiden-auntish tenderness over

the public morals, we are permitted for another year at

least to expose ourselves to the perils of the music halls.

But thankful as we are for thus much of mercy, to

contemplate the future without apprehension is impossible.

That bright band whose microscopic vision detects indecency

on the chastest hoarding, has not at present the support of

a compact majority. But the sentimentalists of all

denominations are rallying round the chieftains of the

fig-leaf, and when Mr. Charrington and the great M'Dougall,

scourge of the music-hall, are put in power, the fires of

Smithfield will soon be set ablaze for all whose costume and

deportment do not satisfy the modest County Council.

Meanwhile, the defenders of virtue--in others--are crippled

and helpless. They cannot hope to carry the citadel of vice

at the first assault. They must perforce content themselves

with enacting scenes which are nothing less than a national

scandal. And the protagonist is Mr. Charrington's Grocer.

"This person has been suborned to do what he himself would

call the 'Alls. His business is to seek out impropriety

wherever it may be found. Mr. Charrington is himself far too

good to pass the porches of sin. For him it is enough to

shout in the doorway and distribute handbills. But his

Grocer is made of sterner stuff. Did he not declare on oath

that he was not easily shocked? He has been 'winked at' by

'bad characters' at the Popular Palace of Varieties. He has

clamoured for recognition in the lounge of the Empire; but

the 'lydies' of the West End Music Hall declined to waste a

look upon him. 'He wasn't swell enough,' he complained. Of

course he wasn't. Does the man not know his betters?

However, he was quite sure the performance was indecent,

because some people went out and the dresses were not what

he was accustomed to see at Mile End. He is absolutely

convinced that the 'lydies' who frequent the Empire are no

better than they ought to be, and his reasons are ingenious,

if not entirely conclusive. It is worth while to set them

forth with some circumstance; (1) the 'lydies' were

respectably dressed; (2) they wouldn't look at him; (3) they

walked two and two; (4) one of their number was observed

carrying a brandy-bottle under her 'harm'! A 'lydy' with a

bottle under her 'harm' is likely to arouse suspicion, and

when she is accompanied by another 'lydy' (not a gentleman)

her character is gone for ever. That Mr. Charrington should

employ the service of the creature who wrote this testimony

is not surprising: a fanatic is capable of anything. But

when you read that the Grocer is now the accredited agent of

the County Council, you can only conclude that that

respectable body has marked out the music hall for

destruction, and devoutly believes that any stick is good

enough to beat a dog withal.

"Reason does not seem to have played a conspicuous part in

the deliberations of Mr. Charrington and his friends after

the case of the Empire was cleared away from vice. War was

declared against the Aquarium, because Mr. Coote, Cardinal

Manning, and the faddists, have smelled out impropriety in a

poster. The fact that posters are outside the jurisdiction

of the Council was no bar to the discussion. The great

M'Dougall observed, with a characteristic touch of Zolasim,

that all was not well with Zaeo's back. Another sensitive

Councillor objects to snakes, and begged that Paula's

portrait might be withdrawn. And finally the Council

threatened (its action cannot be otherwise described) that

if the directors did not suppress their posters, it would

not renew their license. To impose this condition were

_ultra vires_; but Mr. Charrington and his Grocer are the

ultimate arbiters of morality, and we can but submit."

Thus the howl of the witty, the brilliant, yet the thoroughly

irreligious.

The _Saturday Review_ had its say in an article so stupid in its

bitterness that I do not wish to quote it here. But I should not be

giving a complete picture if I did not include one or two of the

remarks made by the professedly anti-Christian press--newspapers

which owed their very existence to their pandering to vice.

For example, an amusing print--long since fallen into oblivion--but,

during its brief space of life, known as _Sporting Truth_, was pleased

to remark as follows--

"The best censors of morals are the public, who are quite

able to get along without the aid of the Council. We do not

want to be made moral by a paternal Council any more than we

wish to be made sober by Act of Parliament. And the sooner

the Council turns itself to its own work--to the better

drainage of the city, to the improvement of the water

supply, and the thousand and one other urgent needs of this

mighty town--the better we shall be pleased. And if they

must have the spies and informers they appear to have so

plentifully engaged--the Peeping Toms, the Paul Prys, the

key-hole listeners, the dirty-minded, leprous beings they

seem so pleased to patronise--the man who can never see a

couple crossing a field but he scents immorality in the air,

the lineal descendants of those revered elders in God who

concealed themselves in order to descry Susannah's

nakedness--if they must have these writhing, detestable

_police de moeurs_ in their employ, let them withdraw them

from music halls, and send them to the sewers; and the

quicker they are poisoned in that foul, mephitic atmosphere,

the better for the business of the world."

This is enough.

It is necessary to have indicated the nature of the opposition to Mr.

Charrington's work for the purification of the music halls, but it

serves no good purpose to particularise further. Let me rather turn

to another side of the evangelist's fighting life. Let me tell, as I

am impatient to tell, of his wonderful purity crusade, and its

results. It is a terrible story, and shows Frederick Charrington,

perhaps, in the greatest peril of his career, yet--as always--undaunted

and unstayed.

CHAPTER VII

THE FIGHT FOR THE PURITY OF THE EAST END

In 1885, the late Mr. Stead, whose death this year in the "Titanic"

suddenly closed so brilliant a career, startled the whole of England

by the publication of his "Maiden Tribute" in the _Pall Mall Gazette_,

of which he was editor at that time.

When the Criminal Law Amendment Bill was talked out just before the

defeat of the Ministry it became necessary to rouse public attention

to the necessity for legislation on this painful subject.

The evidence taken before the House of Lords Committee in 1882 was

useful, but the facts were not up to date; members said things had

changed since then, and the need for legislation had passed. It was

necessary to bring information up to date, and that duty--albeit with

some reluctance--Mr. Stead resolutely undertook. For four weeks, aided

by two or three coadjutors of whose devotion and self-sacrifice,

combined with a rare instinct for investigation and a singular

personal fearlessness, he explored the London Inferno.

"It has been a strange and unexampled experience," he wrote. "For a

month I have oscillated between the noblest and meanest of mankind,

the saviours and destroyers of their race. London beneath the gas

glare of its innumerable lamps became, not like Paris in 1793--'a

naphtha-lighted city of Dis'--but a resurrected and magnified City of

the Plain, with the vices of Gomorrah, daring the vengeance of

long-suffering Heaven. It seemed a strange inverted world, that in

which I lived in those terrible weeks--the world of the streets and

the brothel. It was the same, yet not the same, as the world of

business and the world of politics. I heard much of the same people in

the house of ill-fame as those of whom you hear in caucuses, in law

courts, and on 'Change.' But all were judged by a different standard,

and their relative importance was altogether changed. It was as if the

position of our world had suddenly been altered, and you saw most of

the planets and fixed stars in different combinations, so that at

first it was difficult to recognise them. After a time the eye grows

familiar with the foul and poisonous air, but at the best you wander

in a Circe's isle, where the victims of the foul enchantress' wand

meet you at every turn. But with a difference, for whereas the

enchanted in olden times had the heads and the voices and the bristles

of swine, while the heart of man was in them still, these have not put

on in outward form the 'inglorious likeness of a beast,' but are in

semblance as other men, while within there is only the heart of a

beast--bestial, ferocious, and filthy beyond imagination of decent

men.

"For days and nights it is as if I had suffered the penalties

inflicted upon the lost souls of the Moslem hell, for I seemed to have

to drink of the purulent matter that flows from the bodies of the

damned. But the sojourn in this hell has not been fruitless. The facts

which I and my coadjutors have verified I now place on record at once

as a revelation and a warning--a revelation of the system, and a

warning to those who may be its victims. In the statement which

follows I give no names and I omit addresses. My purpose was not to

secure the punishment of criminals, but to lay bare the working of a

great organisation of crime. But as a proof of good faith, I am

prepared to substantiate the accuracy of every statement contained

herein."

. . . . . . . . . .

I can only paraphrase and hint at the nature of the burning pages

which heralded the most awful revelations of London life ever

presented to the public, revelations which ended in a revolution in

the laws affecting immorality. And I must not stay to do more than pay

a slight tribute of respect to the brave and courageous man who did so

much for womenkind.

As some of my readers may be aware, in the earlier part of this

year--1912--I had occasion in a public work of mine to pay a man whom

I never saw, but with whom I had been in intimate correspondence about

various social matters for a very considerable time, a tribute of

respect I had long wished to make. One of the last letters, upon a

subject affecting public thought, ever written by Mr. Stead was

written to me--just before he made his final voyage in the Titanic.

I am telling here, for the first time, some of the secret history of

that "Maiden Tribute" movement--for it was _to Mr. Charrington_ that

Mr. Stead came in the first instance in order to find out the truth of

what was going on in the East End. Up to that time, Mr. Charrington,

though, of course, he had been painfully aware of many of the horrors

that surrounded him, had been too occupied with his other campaigns,

and his evangelistic work, to take sword in hand, himself, against

this particular aspect of the immorality of the darkest portion of

London.

Do not misunderstand me. You have just read of what Mr. Charrington,

with the most fearless courage, did in the case of the Battle of the

Music Halls. What I mean is that he had not yet begun the

extraordinary campaign against the brothels of the East End, of which

I have to tell in this chapter.

At any rate, he was able to respond to Mr. Stead's request, and it was

he who first--if I may so use the word--"introduced" Mr. Stead to the

erst-while ruffian of whom the editor of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ goes

on to speak.

It is of some historic interest, and I wish my readers to remember

that it was Mr. Charrington who first put Mr. Stead upon the path

which had such magnificent results.

The man of whom I speak, and who told Mr. Stead of the horrors that

went on in the East End, was converted in the Great Assembly Hall by

Mr. Charrington by means of that magnetic and spiritual power which he

has on so many occasions wielded like a veritable Apostle. The fellow

was led from the dark byways of unnamable infamy and brought to Jesus.

At the present moment of which I write, he is an active worker for

Christ, and holds an official position in one of our great over-sea

colonies, to which he was shipped by Mr. Charrington.

It was owing to this conversion that when the late Mr. Stead came to

Mr. Charrington for information, the evangelist was able to put him

into communication with this man.

Mr. Stead used this man's revelations in his "Maiden Tribute of Modern

Babylon," under the heading "Confessions of a Brothel-keeper." The

statement was to the effect that the man had formerly kept a noted

house of ill-fame near the Mile End Road, but was now endeavouring to

start life afresh as an honest man. Mr. Stead saw both him and his

wife, herself a notorious woman, whom he had married off the streets,

where she had earned her living since an early age.

He gathered that the white slave traffic, more particularly in regard

to very young girls, was in the most flourishing and lucrative

position. He exposed all the details, the working of this infernal

machinery, and all England was thrilled with horror. This man made it

a part of his daily business to go away into the country, and to decoy

girls from their parents for bad purposes. Among his patrons were many

wealthy men who paid him large sums--monsters of iniquity, who stood

at nothing to gratify their evil desires. The whole story is a

systematic confession of a depravity which can hardly be equalled, and

yet we see how, before the man was put into communication with Mr.

Stead and confessed, Frederick Charrington was able to rescue even

such an one as this, and bring him to Jesus!

I have quoted other testimonies elsewhere, but I think this is

probably the most striking instance upon record of the exercise of Mr.

Charrington's God-given power.

Never was a more striking amplification of the saying, "It is never

too late to mend." Never was a more extraordinary instance of the

power of Jesus to cleanse and purify, than in the case of this man.

He owes everything, his whole chance of Eternal Life, his veritable

salvation, to Frederick Charrington, through the working of the Holy

Spirit.

If the evangelist in all his long career had done nothing else than

this, even then, I beg leave to think, his career would have been a

marvellous one.

Miracles still happen. This is one of them. I have gone into some of

Mr. Stead's efforts in the furtherance of this bill for the protection

of young girls. After his publication it was deemed advisable to

further influence public opinion by holding a great demonstration in

Hyde Park. A public meeting was accordingly held, at which the project

was considered. At this meeting Mr. Charrington was unanimously

elected chairman of the executive to carry out the necessary

arrangements, Mr. Samuel Morley, M.P. acting as treasurer. Everything

was organised successfully, and a gigantic meeting was held in Hyde

Park, noted clergymen and ministers, leading laymen, and members of

Parliament, presiding or speaking on the platforms erected for the

occasion. Huge processions were formed and came from all parts of

London. It must be remembered that this demonstration was for the

furtherance of a bill for the protection of young girls, and, perhaps,

the most noticeable and touching feature of the processions was the

van-loads of quite young girls dressed solely in white. Mr.

Charrington tells me that he will never forget the effect this

particular feature had on one of the opponents of the bill, who came

out of one of the great clubs in Pall Mall, and who turned perfectly

white as he saw these groups of innocent children.

In 1887, the state of the East End was still appalling. It was then

that our "Valiant-for-Good" began a furious, God-inspired onslaught

upon the dens of East London, which actually resulted in the closing

of two hundred brothels and in purifying the East End to an extent

that can hardly be realised by those who knew it in those days, and

who know it now.

Alone, or occasionally accompanied by a friend or two, always unarmed,

Charrington penetrated to the foulest sinks of iniquity.

He came this time as an avenger of Christ in the first instance. He

came to reprove the blackest evil--he came with a sword in his hand to

destroy it.

And destroy it he did.

I am told by those who remember that strenuous fight that the bullies,

the keepers of evil houses, the horrible folk who battened upon shame,

and enriched themselves with the wages of sin, feared Frederick

Charrington as they feared no policeman, no inspector, no other living

being.

They ran from him. They hid themselves like frightened birds at the

mere rumour of his approach, as he marched alone among them.

His name actually excited the same sort of terror as the name of

Napoleon excited in England in 1813. The blackest scoundrels in London

trembled both at his footsteps and his name.

And it was not only that he came determined to sweep them out of

existence, to destroy their horrid trade, armed with all the powers of

his organisation and the majesty of the law--the supine law which he

himself had stirred to activity--it was that he came among them as a

man of God, radiating the wrath of the Almighty against sinners, and

by that mere force of personal magnetism which was actually testified

to in a surprised court of law, insisting upon the fulfilment of his

commands!

I am not going into too many details, but let me tell of one street

alone which was purged and cleansed by the evangelist.

I think no more striking record than this could possibly be found.

"Lady Lake's Grove, Mile End, has long been notoriously the most

disorderly and the most irreclaimable of any of the streets or roads

of East London. A mere lane, running almost parallel with a portion of

the Mile End Road, it contains about eight houses, while, near the

middle of the Grove, and running off at right angles, is another but

an infinitely smaller lane, only some four feet in width, known as

Cottage Row, nearly the whole of the houses in which are devoted to

the shelter of loose women, and what are colloquially known as their

'bullies.' These 'bullies' are men who, for the purpose of having some

sort of a legal claim upon the proceeds of the shame of these women,

either marry or live with them, or, when the earnings are small, take

up the profession of thieves. For this latter purpose the houses in

Cottage Row are peculiarly adapted; the whole property is somewhat

like a rabbit-warren, communicating, as the houses do, with each

other. The rooms contained in each of the five houses in Cottage Row

number but one or two, and it is in these rooms, crowded with women

and children, that scenes of the grossest immorality frequently take

place. The eight houses known as 22, 24, 26, 28, 30, 32, 34, and 36,

Lady Lake's Grove, are but little better than those in Cottage Row.

They contain about six rooms each, of the most dilapidated

description, each of which are let off to one, two, three, and even

four girls, and women of loose character, and at rents varying from

four to six shillings for each person occupying the rooms. In none of

these houses are there less than ten girls and women carrying on their

nefarious trade, and in some there are as many as twenty. The scene on

every night of the week at Lady Lake's Grove is one of the most

unqualified bestiality, the women occupying the houses in the Grove

being largely reinforced lately by those whose former haunts have been

indicted. Worse than all, an extensive system of procuration has been

carried on at some of these houses for a long time past, the agents of

'Continental houses' finding at the 'Grove' their largest and cheapest

supply of 'goods.' Hitherto, owing to the fear of the 'bullies' who

reside in the locality in large numbers, there have been none

sufficiently courageous as to lodge information against the houses in

the Grove, and it was reserved for Mr. F. N. Charrington, of the Great

Assembly Hall, to take up the cudgels against the Grove. This he only

did after long and careful personal inquiry had convinced him of the

character of the houses. The summonses were taken out this week

against the owners of the houses mentioned in the 'Grove'--amongst

them William and John Loman, Emma Breeson, and Charlotte Squire,

together with the owners of the houses in Cottage Row--and were made

returnable at the Thames Police Court yesterday afternoon. On the

receipt of the summonses, however, the owners of all the houses in

Cottage Row decided that the better policy would be to close their

houses, which was at once done. The owners in Lady Lake's Grove,

however, decided to hold out a little longer, and accordingly four of

them waited until Wednesday to close their premises. The owners of the

four houses, 22, 24, 26, and 28, a little more determined, perhaps,

refused to close their houses even then.

"In the meantime, Mr. Charrington, to show that he was actuated by no

animosity towards the girls and women themselves, determined to give

them a breakfast on Thursday at one o'clock--the usual hour of

breakfasting with these women. No formal invitations were issued, but

on Thursday morning Mr. Charrington, accompanied by one or two of his

fellow-workers, went into the 'Grove' and personally invited the women

and the girls there to the breakfast. The reception accorded Mr.

Charrington and his colleagues was by no means flattering--on the

contrary, it was in the highest degree threatening. The women standing

on the steps openly laughed at him, while the bullies hanging about

began to close round them in a decidedly 'ugly' manner.

"The discreet appearance of a policeman's helmet at the further end of

the 'Grove,' however, induced the bullies to move away to a

respectable distance, while Mr. Charrington proceeded from house to

house, begging and entreating the women to come. The invitation was at

first viewed with some amount of distrust, and open expressions of its

being 'a plant' were frequently heard, but as Mr. Charrington

proceeded to tell them that his only desire was to show that he was

not their enemy, they began to get a little more confident, and

finally, about twenty-five girls who had been plying their trade

outside the four enclosed houses made their way to the hall--the

majority of them confessing that their only object was 'to have a lark

with Charrington.' Arrived at the small hall, they found two long

tables laid out with piles of bread-and-butter and ham and beef, with

two large coffee urns steaming at either end. Mr. Day-Winter was

sitting at the organ at the time, and by a happy inspiration he

proceeded to start the refrain 'For Auld Lang Syne.' The reception was

somewhat different from what the women had expected, and after a brief

pause of surprise they joined heartily in the refrain. And then they

proceeded to attack the viands placed before them--an operation in

which the latter suffered the greatest damage. It cannot honestly be

said that the talk and the general remarks indulged in were of the

most carefully chosen or elevating character, but, bad though it was,

Mr. Charrington and his friends patiently bore it, nor ventured to

protest when matters went considerably further, and the coarsest of

jokes were cut. One satisfactory feature, however, there was,

deserving of mention. The girls and women who had met Mr. Charrington

that morning with expressions of open and undisguised hostility now

began to see that he was sincerely anxious for their welfare, and

treated him accordingly. It was, perhaps, a mistake--though a

well-intentioned one--to start the singing of hymns at the close of

the meal; Sankey's solos and a very recent connection with disorderly

houses do not always agree, especially at such short notice. Mr.

Charrington saw at once that the attempt at reformation was too

premature, and proceeded accordingly. He asked the girls whether they

had any objection to leaving their names and addresses for the purpose

of ascertaining whether something might be done for them in the

future, and the information was furnished to the best of their

ability, considering that some of them had no other names than 'nick'

names, such as 'Aunt Sally.' And then they were asked if they had any

objection to their photographs being taken in groups--a request to

which they assented with even more avidity after they had extracted

from Mr. Charrington a promise that they each should have a copy. They

were rather rough and very coarse-speaking groups that were formed

before the photographer's lens--groups in which every colour under the

sun might have been found in a proximity at utter variance with all

the prevailing laws of fashion--but taken they were. Then, while the

photographer examined his proofs, Mr. Charrington and others

questioned the girls as far as possible as to their future prospects,

and, without a word of rebuke, asked them whether they intended to

continue their present lives, or whether they really wished to become

a little better. These inquiries had to be conducted in the quietest

possible manner, for there was, among the women present, one who

owned a house in the 'Grove,' the girls in which had practically sold

themselves to her, body and soul, and who seemed in no way disposed to

allow them to be taken to a place where they were not likely to

increase her shameful receipts. One such instance was that of a

light-hearted Irish girl, who, on some pretext or other, ran round a

corner to where a gentleman connected with one of the Refuges was

standing, and, in a few excited words, told him that she was tired of

the life she was leading; that she would see him a few days later, but

that she must not be seen talking to him on any account. It was with

sad hearts that the little party saw the girls troop out from the hall

into their old haunts of vice."

These details are almost too dreadful for amplification, but I must

conclude this story of Charrington's battle for purity with the

extraordinary incident of a woman known as Mrs. Rose.

Mrs. Rose was a procuress and brothel-keeper of the worst description.

She was told that Mr. Charrington had her name in his "black book,"

and was coming, as indeed he was, for the purpose of warning her that

he was taking proceedings.

The woman was standing at the door of her house when the news of Mr.

Charrington's approach was brought. She at once ran indoors, fell upon

the floor, and died within the space of a very few minutes.

There are some who will say--and far be it from me to disagree with

them--that terror of detection acting upon a weak heart caused this

evil woman's sudden death. This is the way in which it might be

scientifically accounted for. But, science, which so often thinks

itself the destroyer of religion, is, after all, only the

handmaid--the unconscious handmaid--of the Unseen. It was surely the

power of God, approaching in the person of His servant, who "pressed

God's lamp to his breast," that struck down this woman, as a terrible

example to all the others?

It must be an august and terrible thing for a man to know that, filled

with the power of the Holy Ghost, he was the medium of so sudden and

awful a death.

During the Purity Crusade such dramatic instances were of constant

occurrence. Two girls rescued by Mr. Charrington--who afterwards gave

evidence in the Battle of the Music Halls case--were decoyed into a

public-house known as the "Red Cow" which still exists quite close to

the Great Assembly Hall, by the publican to whom the place belonged.

They remained there all night. The man, who had previously publicly

cursed Mr. Charrington in the most appalling way, took poison, and was

found dead in his bed on the very next morning.

There was also a humorous side to all this strenuous campaign.

Mr. Charrington on one occasion set out to rescue a young girl who was

being detained in a house of infamy. He was accompanied by two

detectives disguised as water-inspectors. The girl was duly rescued,

and upon the mantel-shelf of the principal room of this abominable

house the evangelist discovered his own portrait. He was naturally

considerably startled, but still more so when one of the detectives

told him that there was not a house of this description in the East

End which had not such a portrait.

The explanation, of course, is very simple. The keepers of these

places wished to have a ready means of identifying the man who was

breaking up a dreadful trade.

Altogether two hundred brothels were swept out of existence. The

rescued girls were sent to the beautiful home provided for them by the

liberality of Lady Ashburton. Souls and bodies were saved.

A man had come into dark places, in the words of St. Paul: "Giving no

offence in anything, that the ministry be not blamed; but in all

things approving yourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience,

in affliction, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in

imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in watchings, in fastings; by

pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy

Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God,

by the armour of righteousness, on the right hand and on the left, by

honour and dishonour, by evil report and good report; as deceivers,

and yet true; as unknown, and yet well-known; as dying, and behold, we

live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet always

rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet

possessing all things."

CHAPTER VIII

FRUITION!

All the work of years, all the successes, the fact that Frederick

Charrington had become an acknowledged leader--perhaps I should say

"_the_" acknowledged leader of the armies of Christ in the East End of

London--are now about to culminate in the erection of that last, and

permanent, "Great Assembly Hall."

We have seen him in all his earlier periods. We approach the moment

when his work for our Lord is to be consolidated in a concrete form.

The huge machinery for good inspired by him, invented and directed by

him, is to be centralised. A new temple of righteousness is to arise,

built by hands indeed, but far more by prayer and self-sacrifice.

The present chapter marks a very definite stage in the career of which

I am privileged and happy to write.

The subaltern has become a commander-in-chief, and a

commander-in-chief who, for the first time, is about to have a

commissariat.

The time has arrived when the words of the Wisdom of Solomon sound

strangely true.

"Then shall the righteous man stand in great boldness before the face

of such as have afflicted him, and made no account of his labours.

"When they see it, they will be troubled with terrible fear, and shall

be amazed at the strangeness of his salvation, so far beyond all that

they looked for.

"And they repenting and groaning for anguish of spirit shall say

within themselves, This was he whom we had sometimes in derision and a

proverb of reproach:

"We fools counted his life madness, and his end to be without honour:

"How is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among

the saints!"

The foundation stones of the frontage of the _final_ Great Assembly

Hall were laid in November 1883, the Right Hon. the Earl of

Shaftesbury, K.G., the president of the mission, taking the chair.

Over five hundred ladies and gentlemen, including many of the local

clergy and ministers, witnessed the ceremony, in which the venerable

earl himself, Lady Blanche Keith-Falconer, Miss Cory of Cardiff, Mr.

John Cory, Mr. George Williams, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Bevan, the late

Lady Hobart, and others, took part.

The foundation stone of the great Mission Hall itself, which is the

centre of the whole group of buildings, was laid by Her Grace the

Duchess of Westminster, on July 4, 1885, and opened by John Cory,

Esq., J.P., February 4, 1886.

I am anxious that readers of this book shall have a very complete

picture in their minds of this centre of Mr. Charrington's work.

They must see it as it was then, from a contemporary's reminiscences;

they must also see it as it was when, only three or four months ago,

I, Mr. Charrington's biographer, made a comprehensive experience of

it.

Let the first chronicler, at the moment when the largest mission hall

in the world was thrown open to view, speak before me.

"'Does it really hold five thousand people?' was a remark I overheard

in the crowd which had gathered outside the entrances to the New Great

Assembly Hall, on the day of the opening, the 4th of February, 1886.

The doubter was soon set at rest upon that point by those who had had

the advantage of a private view. A few days earlier I had availed

myself of Mr. Charrington's invitation, and had noted the carpenters

putting the finishing touches to the magnificent building which, like

some Aladdin's palace, had risen in the space of ten months. I was

prepared for surprises, but not such a surprise as the one here

provided. The effect the first view of the hall produced upon the mind

was one of amazement.

"Size, beauty, and simplicity, are its three great qualities. But, so

true are the proportions, its vast capacity is not at once

discoverable. It requires some little effort to impress upon the mind

the idea that a ground-floor area, seventy feet wide by one hundred

and thirty feet long, is very seldom secured unbroken. All the seats

on the ground floor are movable, and not fixed as pews, so that when

occasion requires, an extensive promenade under one roof can be in a

few minutes commanded. And so again the large accommodation furnished

by the two galleries is not immediately perceived, the curving lines

of the architecture making no feature too prominent. The beauty of the

proportion subordinates every part of the building, and all unite in

a pleasing effect.

"From two spots a capital view of the hall can be obtained. Standing

in the centre of the uppermost gallery, looking towards the organ, the

eye notes the depth, forty-four feet in the clear, from the flat

ceiling to the parquet floor. The lines of the galleries converge upon

the double platform, with the choir space behind it, and the organ

recess, now concealed by the painted drop curtain. Placing oneself

upon the upper platform, the width of the building can be seen at a

glance, but not the length, the platform itself extending a good way

outward. If the length but not the height is to be seen, the point for

the spectator to station himself is at the entrance from the

vestibule, or a sweeping perspective may be even obtained from the

iron gate in the Mile End Road, the centre passage-way having an

uninterrupted line from the pavement to the organ; few such buildings

can boast as much.

"The illumination of the hall I heard frequently and favourably

commented on. There are upwards of 130 windows, which, being glazed

with yellow glass, admit a pleasant-toned light, whilst they wholly

exclude any objectionable view. The bright orange, complemented by

chocolate, of the decorations assists the aerial effect thus obtained,

and there is an additional benefit secured by the adoption of ground

glass windows. By shutting out external surroundings the hall is

rendered self-contained. No mean neighbours, murky atmosphere, nor

curling smoke distract the attention, which is left free to

concentrate itself upon the life within the building itself. In a

word, it will be quite possible for a visitor to imagine himself far

from the squalor of the East End of London, from the moment he enters

the Great Assembly Hall.

"The windows, especially the clerestory windows over the galleries

beneath the flat ceiling, breaking the line of the coved sides, serve

also to enhance the pleasing effect produced by the graceful lines of

the architecture.

"At night the artificial lighting is not less striking, a continuous

row of gas jets following the outlines of the clerestory arches. A

skilful arrangement of subsidiary lights destroys all shadows, and the

effect is that of bright sunshine. An alternative system dispenses

with the upper jets and substitutes a row at the level of the first

gallery which is sufficient to give light to the ground area, when

small meetings only are to be held.

"With regard to ventilation, the plan selected seems most effectual.

Every part of the building is under separate control, and there are

numerous cunning little contrivances which are simple and not

patented, but which do their work extremely well.

"In an accoustical sense the hall is perfect. I am told that the flat

panelled ceiling, which resembles in form that of the House of

Commons, contributes to this result.

"I was curious to know the truth of the assertion that from every

seat, and there are four thousand three hundred, a view of the speaker

upon the upper platform could be gained. I found it a fact.

"Three prominent adjuncts of the hall remain to be described. The

first is the great organ, containing 2178 speaking pipes, erected at

the cost of L1000 by Messrs. Bevington & Son. The natural steel colour

of the pipes has been preserved. It is a very fine instrument, and is

not dwarfed or spoilt by the platforms in front of it, nor hidden in

the recess which it fills. This shell-shaped alcove acts as a sounding

board.

"Over the great arch there are bas-reliefs representing groups of

angels in the act of praise. From this arch falls the painted drop

curtain, the subject of the picture thereon being the Feeding of the

Five Thousand on the slopes of the Sea of Galilee. The curtain gives

colour to the hall, and protects the organ when not in use.

"Under the choir platform there is a large inquiry room, a part of

which is partitioned off to provide space for a gas engine to work the

great organ.

"Another unusual feature is the octagonal Italian loggia or lobby,

which intervenes between the frontage buildings and the hall. It is

forty-four feet each way, by thirty-four feet high, and is lighted

from the roof. The landings from two of the four great staircases, at

each corner of the hall have exits into two galleries or balconies,

looking down into the lobby.

"The warming of the building is by an improved hot-air method, and the

exits for use in case of fire are ample."

The opening meeting, an occasion fraught with a significance that only

Mr. Charrington and the thousands of friends who support his work can

realise--for the outside world has known but little of the great work

compared with its knowledge of other, and more largely advertised,

agencies for good--was of an extraordinary character.

Mere lists of names do not convey much, and yet, in an archive such as

this, I suppose some indication--at any rate--must be given of those

who were present, or, unable themselves to be there, were keenly

interested in the great thing that had come to pass.

Among those names which will still have an interest for the readers, I

may mention the Duke of Westminster, Duchess of Westminster, Earl of

Aberdeen, Lord Mount Temple, Lord and Lady Cameron, Lord Justice Fry,

The Lord Mayor, Lady Alexander, Lady Augusta Montagu, Lady Victoria

Buxton, Lady Aitchison, Lady Abercromby, Lady Harrowby, Sir R. Owen,

Sir W. Bowman, Sir J. Coods, Sir E. Colehart, General W. Hill, Bishop

of London, Canon Mason, Rev. Webb-Peploe, Rev. J. T. Wigner, Rev. H.

A. Mason, Rev. Hugh Price Hughes, Rev. A. J. Robinson, Rev. F.

Hastings, Rev. W. Glenny Crory, Dr. Armitage, Dr. Adler (Chief Rabbi),

Dr. A. Grant, Mrs. Henry Fawcett, Miss Robinson (Portsmouth), John

Hilton.

Mr. Charrington, having asked for silence, announced that Mr. John

Cory (the well-known millionaire colliery proprietor) would take the

chair, and face the enormous crowd of jubilant people that thronged

the mighty hall to its utmost capacity.

Lord Radstock engaged in prayer, and then the chairman began his

address.

He said--

"I have received some letters since I have been in the

hall, and I will give you an extract from one, as it may

interest you, and especially the workers. It is addressed

from St. George's Infirmary, and the writer says: 'Three

years ago I gave myself to the Lord in the old Great

Assembly Hall. On the opening of the new structure, in which

you are engaged to-night, my heart goes out with love and

sympathy to all the workers there. Would that I were among

you to-night.'

"God bless that good man. It is an encouragement to the

workers here to know of one such who has received blessing

on this spot. I do not intend to detain you long. We have

eloquent speakers on the platform, whom you wish to hear,

but I would remark that I only express the feeling of my

friend Mr. Charrington, and of all the workers here, in

saying that we have to lament to-night the absence of one

who took a hearty interest in this Mission, and who would no

doubt, if the Lord had spared his life, have occupied the

position that I have the honour to occupy to-night. I refer

to the Earl of Shaftesbury. (Applause.) We can quite

imagine, by the words our late president spoke at the laying

of the foundation stone of the frontage, how delighted he

would have been to inaugurate the opening of this beautiful

and splendid hall, and I would like to remind you of his

words. He said: 'Mr. Charrington has said that he desires a

larger building, and so do we desire it, and so let every

one desire it, and pray for it heartily, and do what in him

lies to get it. I trust you will have that building.'

"We have now to thank God we have this large building, which

has been prayed for so long, and was so much desired by our

esteemed and good friend, Lord Shaftesbury. This splendid

building will, I am sure, always remind us that we must not

despise the day of small things.

"Mr. Charrington commenced this glorious and

self-sacrificing work about seventeen years ago in a

night-school, and afterwards in a hayloft. Then in a large

upper room, next an iron hall, later on in a tent, again in

a bigger tent, to seat 1500, and finally he purchased the

present site at a cost of L8000. I can well remember the

time that my friend came down to Wales, many years ago, in

great ecstasy of delight, having bought this land, and with

the idea of putting up a large Assembly Hall upon it. And

now he has his heart's desire! On this site, I understand,

he erected a temporary building, to hold about 2000 people.

"Even this place was not large enough, and he rented a

music-hall to seat 3000 on Sunday evenings, the temporary

hall being open every night for seven years. This temporary

building, being condemned, was taken down, and then comes

this last effort--the erection of this magnificent hall to

seat 5000 people. I am sure that our united prayer will be

to ask the Lord that thousands of souls may be saved in this

place.

"I am delighted to find the splendid frontage building

consisting of the Coffee Palace, without intoxicating

drinks, and the Book Saloon, where pure literature is sold,

with various club rooms, Young Men's Christian Association

and Young Women's Christian Association Rooms, besides three

fine entrances.

"I must say that the sums which have been subscribed

towards this building I feel have been a very good

investment, and I am exceedingly pleased with the whole

undertaking.

"But I feel more than thankful to God to-night, and I am

sure every one will join in the thanksgiving offered by Lord

Radstock, and I am more than satisfied when I remember the

hundreds, nay, I may say thousands, of souls that have been

saved through the instrumentality of my friend Mr.

Charrington, and his helpers. The good that has been

accomplished here, of course, no one can tell, and I rejoice

to know that the same gospel--the old, old story--will be

continued to be preached here. But Mr. Charrington not only

offers salvation to the sinner, for he has undertaken

operations on a large scale, in periods of distress, to feed

the famishing and the starving; and I observe that in a

short season of six weeks six hundred pounds were spent in

bread and cocoa. Blessed is he that considereth the poor.

(Applause.) What the late Earl of Shaftesbury said at the

laying of the foundation stone fully expresses my feeling.

"Take, then, for your motto, 'Forward, in the name of the

Lord,' and with energy, perseverance, and unflinching

reliance on the promise, 'I am with you,' go and seek each

one in his own place, each one in his own sphere, and also

by united action, to win sinners for Jesus. Remember that in

the East End of London, with its million of inhabitants,

there is room--not only for this large hall, but for many

more.

"I say, then, 'Forward, in the name of the Lord,' and

continue, as hitherto, to rescue the perishing. Duty demands

it. The strength for your labour the Lord will provide. I

have now to declare this hall open, and may the Lord bless

the workers, and everybody connected with it."

It is getting on for thirty years now since those stirring words were

spoken, and still the Great Assembly Hall stands in the Mile End Road,

close by the old brewery, and is the greatest centre of Christian work

in the whole of East London. From its first building until the present

time, the work that has gone on there has never diminished in power

for good, the energy of the workers has never flagged. The

ramifications have been enormous. The Assembly Hall has become, as it

were, the hub of a great wheel, with spokes extending in every

direction, and I now propose to give an epitomised account of some of

these stupendous activities, to present the Great Assembly Hall to my

readers as it was and as it is.

From accounts of its beginnings in the earlier days I have gathered

many quaint and even amusing stories.

One of the preachers whom Mr. Charrington enlisted under his banner

was known as "Hellfire Tom." This man was an engine-driver on the

Brighton line, a skilful mechanic, and, at the same time, a great

drunkard. Upon one occasion, when driving his engine at full speed, he

was so drunk that he missed a warning signal, and dashed through two

gates upon a level crossing, thus endangering his own life and those

of all the passengers in the train. He was tried for the offence, and,

very rightly, received a sentence of three months' hard labour.

However, he was converted, and became a strict teetotaler, an earnest

preacher for Christ, and would relate his experiences with a

rough-and-ready eloquence that touched many hearts and led others to

find the salvation that he himself had found. In connection with this

man there is a curious story, which seems singularly a propos to tell

here, when, as one reads, certain alterations in the Burial Service of

the Church of England are proposed, and it is suggested that a

modified form of the beautiful words of committal should be used in

the case of evil-livers--thus constituting the officiating clergyman a

sort of judge-in-advance of a person who has departed this life, and

whom he may be called upon to bury. This man, "Hellfire Tom," lived

before his conversion in a house of ill-fame. He related that one of

the poor girls there died, and two or three of her friends attended

her wretched funeral. These girls had no good influence whatever in

their lives, Christ was little more than a name to them, but one of

them came back to Hellfire Tom, and said that "it was all right with

Sal, as the parson had said she had sure and certain hope of

everlasting life"--words which seemed to comfort the poor creatures

very much.

Another man who addressed Mr. Charrington's congregations in the

earlier days was a certain Harvey Teasdale in private life. In public

he rejoiced in the proud distinction of being the "Chief Man Monkey of

London." He earned his bread by leaping and climbing round the

galleries of Sadler's Wells Theatre, and was, it seems, a most

disreputable character until he came under the influence of the gospel

and definitely embraced a Christian life. He became one of the

preachers at the hall, and numbers came to hear him who had known him

in his theatrical days.

Yet the most remarkable of all the preachers of this period was Henry

Holloway. He was a convicted burglar who had spent seven years in the

hulks at Gibraltar. In connection with the Mission he was always

announced as "A voice from the convict cell," or as "The returned

convict," and was naturally the means of reaching an enormous number

of the criminal classes. On one occasion Mr. Charrington found a crowd

of rough-looking men at the door of the new hall, waiting to gain

admission. They at once said, "Oh, Mr. Charrington, you must let us

in. We are all returned convicts and do want to hear Henry Holloway."

The evangelist managed to take them round to the back of the hall, and

let them in by a side entrance.

All these preachers were converted to the gospel before Mr.

Charrington first knew them. He used them as the instruments of his

work.

And what will my readers say when I tell them that, on several

occasions, an old and extraordinary looking man in picturesque

clothes, and with a strongly marked face, like a grotesque caricature,

was in the habit of giving temperance addresses, and was none other

than the great George Cruikshank himself! the most famous caricaturist

perhaps that England has ever known? This, of course, was in the quite

early period, but I like to think of the odd trio I have

mentioned--and, did space allow, there are many, many others equally

as strange--as testifying to the power of God upon them under the

auspices of the evangelist.

As I am speaking of personalities, it will not be out of place here to

quote the testimony of a well-known preacher as to what Mr.

Charrington did for him.

This gentleman is a personal friend of mine, and he preaches

constantly at the Great Assembly Hall to-day. His name will be known

to many of my readers. I give it here, and print his story in his own

words, at his own request. It is his own wish that his name should

appear, and I can but bow to it, and myself point out the personal

self-sacrifice his decision must have entailed.

But it was ever thus--any one whom Frederick Charrington has

influenced for good has always been ready to come forward at the hour

of need and testify to what he has done for them.

In the chapter entitled the "Battle of the Music Halls," you will

remember another instance of this loyal readiness, this time on the

part of two poor girls who had been rescued from a horrible life, and

restored to health and to respectable society by Mr. Charrington.

Mr. J. B. Wookey said to me, and my secretary took his words down in

shorthand exactly as they appear here: "I was at one time Senior

Deputation Secretary to Dr. Barnardo. It was while I was in the midst

of that work, often suffering from strain of voice and nerves, that I

began to take a little intoxicating drink to produce sleep. Then I was

frequently the guest of people who pressed drink upon me, and slowly

but surely it gained a terrible hold. I really could not do without

it. I had to be stimulated by this means for work. Up to that time I

had never publicly made a fool of myself. But it became necessary to

keep on increasing the dose. Well, about that time my mother, who was

a member of the Society of Friends, was taken sick, and ultimately

died. To her I was very passionately attached, and being left alone in

the room looking at her dear, dead face, I asked myself, if she could

speak, what would she be likely to make as a last request? I knew too

well what she would say. I procured a sheet of notepaper, and wrote on

it a most solemn vow that I would never again touch the intoxicating

cup. I folded the paper and placed it in her dead hand, where it now

remains in the grave. And yet, within a week, so strong had the

appetite for drink taken hold of me, that I broke that most solemn

vow. Then it appeared as if all was over. 'There came a mist within

the weeping rain, and life was never the same again.' From that time

onwards my descent was rapid. My good friend Dr. Barnardo died. I felt

that there was only one thing for it, and that was to put the Atlantic

Ocean between myself and my past; which I did. Then a terrible

domestic calamity made it imperative that I should return to this

country, and after months of anxiety of mind which no words of mine

can describe, I felt that I was utterly lost, body and soul. I

purposely avoided everybody I had ever known, and buried myself in a

neighbourhood to which I had hitherto been a complete stranger. I

could open the Bible, but could not read. Did often kneel, but could

not pray. Could sit down to food, but could not eat. There seemed to

be one thing and one thing only that could calm a guilty conscience,

and give me sleep of mind, body and soul, and that was drink. In the

midst of saner moments I often prayed that I might die, and yet I knew

too well I was not worthy. One day, however, I was most anxious to see

Mr. Charrington's secretary, and having reason to believe that my old

friend Mr. Charrington, whom I had known intimately for nearly thirty

years, was out of town, I ventured to call at his house. To my utter

amazement, Mr. Charrington himself opened the door. The very sight of

him who knew all my troubles almost paralysed me. He, however,

insisted on my coming inside. He preached no sermon, asked me to read

no tract, but gave me a warm grip of the hand, offered me a seat at

his table, treating me with the utmost possible brotherliness and

kindness, and spoke words of hope and good cheer. He took me down to

his beautiful home on Osea Island as his guest for a few weeks. I came

and remained nearly eighteen months without a break. During that time

I regained my mental balance, and once more felt the tight and loving

grip of my Saviour and my God. I feel now that the old enemy has been

finally conquered, and that all that is left for me to do to work out

my own salvation, is to obey the sacred injunction to 'watch and

pray.' Out of the last thirteen months I have been preaching for five

months at the Great Assembly Hall, and although it has cost me

something to open my old wounds, I have been able to do it for the

sake of other victims of strong drink, and I have been privileged to

see hundreds of men sign the pledge of total abstinence and yield

themselves to God. I have also visited other centres of Christian

work, and hope to give the remainder of whatever time is left me to

do all that in me lies to dethrone the drink fiend, and to draw lost

ones to the Saviour who came to seek and to save them."

And while I am still dealing with people, I must quote the words of

Dr. Waldo, the well-known American missionary, who for some years now

has crossed the Atlantic to hold a short mission season at the hall. I

had many interesting conversations with him about Mr. Charrington and

his work, and shall not easily forget his genial and masterful

personality. His words are deeply interesting, and show how much

America is in sympathy with the work at the Great Assembly Hall.

"The first thing I felt when I entered the Great Assembly Hall was a

sense of the immensity of the building. Mr. Joe Clarke, who was then a

missioner, and burning with enthusiasm, showed me through the

building, and particularly took me straight to the pulpit, and said,

'Every big building has a key, and you must receive the key of the

Great Assembly Hall.' He went to the extreme end, and I read from the

Book, and from this key I have preached for eleven successive years in

the Great Assembly Hall. The next gentleman I saw was Mr. Charrington,

who, in his hearty way, received me into his home at 41 Stepney Green.

That was eleven years ago. His hearty reception, the cordiality and

good-will beaming from his bright and searching eyes, made a profound

impression upon me as he asked me to take a seat in his simple home.

"After preaching my first sermon on the word 'Sympathy,' Mr.

Charrington said that his pulpit was free to me to preach anything

that I wished. The thought of preaching in a hall capable of holding

five thousand people made me feel somewhat timid, and I shrank from

the responsibility of facing the congregation in the greatest

evangelistic centre in the world. But after attending the

Saturday-night prayer meeting that has been famous all over the East

End of London as the centre of its spiritual life, as I heard the new

and old converts lift their hearts in grateful prayer to God, and

heard the petitions offered on my behalf, soon the feeling of timidity

lifted, and a courage filled my being that enabled me to be inspired

with the thought of the great Apostle of olden days who said that 'I

am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God,

and salvation to every one that believeth.'

"The morning service at eleven was largely attended, and the old fear

of the multitude left me. I was caught up in the spirit of devotion

that seemed to pervade the entire company. Then came the evening

service when the congregation of between four and five thousand people

assembled to hear the first message from me, the young American who

hailed from Chicago.

"The service, which was a sample of the whole of the services held in

this magnificent centre, left a profound impression on my mind. First

I was conducted to the vestry, where a score of deacons and others met

for a word of prayer, led by the hon. superintendent, Mr. Charrington,

who asked that God's blessing might rest upon the multitudes, and upon

the speaker. Whilst engaged in prayer, the music burst forth from the

tremendous audience, led by Mr. Winter. He sat at the vast, pealing

organ, directing the enormous waves of sound. Led by a huge choir, all

joined in the magnificent hymn, 'Sinners Jesus will receive,' which

gave the cue to the entire service, and, in fact, every service in the

great hall. We soon found ourselves upon the top platform. Behind us

were a hundred voices, male and female. The deacons and lay preachers

were on the platform, and Mr. Charrington sat in front on the one

side, and myself on the other. A spirited service of wonderful power

began, and when the time came for the message of the evening, as I

looked at the sea of faces stretched out before me, I was thrilled in

the extreme, and realised that I was there, listening and facing the

greatest opportunity of my life, in speaking to these people.

"The text of the evening was, 'God forbid that I should glory, save in

the Lord Jesus Christ.' The message came free, as if directed by the

Spirit of God in answer to the prayer of the people. It was easy to

preach. The surroundings demanded the best that was in a man, and the

occasion furnished ample opportunity to make a profound impression.

"After the message was delivered, Mr. Charrington followed in his

magnificent way, and in a voice that was heard in every corner of the

great hall, and out into the street, he made his tremendous appeal for

all to meet the preacher and workers in the inquiry room, where the

opportunity would be given to sign the pledge of total abstinence, to

yield themselves to God, and receive a higher and a grander life.

Dozens that night surrendered themselves. Even after the service was

over, the religious work was not done. Three or four bodies of workers

were on the Mile End Waste preaching the gospel.

"During every summer Americans have visited this Mission, having heard

of it in their own country from me and from others, particularly the

_Ram's Horn_, of Chicago, and several other noted papers of America

which have "written up" this work of Mr. Charrington's, and brought it

close to the hearts of the leading philanthropists throughout the

entire Republic. On one occasion fifteen school teachers from

Cleveland visited the hall with a well-known educationalist in charge,

and were so enthusiastic about it, and with the service, that, in

spite of the fact that dinner was waiting for them at the Hotel Cecil,

they would not fulfil their engagements, but lingered to see the East

End Londoners in devotion in the Great Hall, and in the streets. The

universal testimony of these travellers, who had visited ten different

nations of the world in their travels, was that they had never met

anything in all the world like the work of the Great Assembly Hall of

the East End of London.

"On one occasion, Mr. Charles Herrendeen, of Chicago, with his wife

and son, came to the hall. He is a well-known millionaire and

philanthropist. They sat upon the platform during the entire service!

A handful of gold was afterwards found in the collection plate, which

was rather unusual. He was a personal friend of mine, having been

trustee of a church of which I was pastor in Chicago. He was perfectly

amazed with the enormity of the work, and said that he believed that

'God was nearer to the work of the Great Assembly Hall than any

portion of His work throughout the kingdom.'

"Another time, J. L. Campbell, another famous preacher, visited the

hall during the evening of the day on which King Edward was crowned,

and listened to the discourse that was delivered by his friend. He sat

upon the platform with his face beaming with joy. He said as he left,

that he believed 'God Almighty smiled as much upon that service as He

did upon that which was held in Westminster Abbey at the coronation of

the king.'

"At another time, Mr. Brown, the great wholesale bootmaker, who

resides in St. Louis, became greatly interested in the whole work, and

particularly with the boy Jack Cook, who held several missions in the

great hall. He adopted him and sent him to a school, and generally

fitted him out for his life's work. When he had attended his first

service and listened to all the enthusiasm that emanated from the lips

of Mr. Charrington and the boy preacher of the evening, he said,

'Surely the Lord is in this place. Surely this is the gate of Heaven!'

"I remember one night that a man, who was a great drunkard, came in at

the request of Mr. Charrington, and promised that he would come back

again the next night, which he did. Finally, after his conversion,

through his zeal and eagerness he became one of the leading officials

of the mission, and chairman of the Board of Deacons. He bore the

testimony that it was not anything that he had _heard_ at that

meeting that made the profound impression upon him, but the

extraordinary _personality of Mr. Charrington_, who took him by the

hand, and led him to the place of worship, and to the Saviour of the

world. He said, 'I shall never forget the handshake of the great man

of God, who invited me to prayer with him.'

"Another millionaire from America, in attending service at the Great

Assembly Hall recently, said, 'We have most of the biggest things in

the world in America, but we have got no place anywhere in our country

for the benefit of humanity like this.'

"Yet another American visited the hall when I was conducting my yearly

mission, and took the march through the streets, and witnessed the

seven hundred poor enjoying a bountiful meal, and remained to the

evening service. Upon leaving, he said, 'I have travelled into

different parts of the world, and I confess I have never seen anything

like this at home, or abroad. It is a great need handled in a Christly

way.'

"And I myself have for twelve successive summers preached during the

month of August, and I have no hesitation in saying that this is the

greatest field I know of on earth for sociological study, and for

Christian service. Here sin is rampant, and here Grace is having the

victory, 'For where sin abounds, Grace doth much more abound.'"

There have been very many preachers, of course, during the long life

of the Great Assembly Hall. It would be almost impossible to mention

them by name, and perhaps invidious also. But Mr. Charrington has

been, especially of late years, much indebted to the Evangelisation

Society, who have sent him many of their most powerful preachers.

All these preachers have given due testimony in their time and place,

not only to the good that they are able to do to others by their

mission under Mr. Charrington's direction, but also to the spiritual

good that has resulted to themselves, and to that feeling of "home,"

that sense of companionship and union, which will never leave them

when they think of the vast building, and those who worked there so

nobly and so long.

It is absolutely impossible, and it is outside the scope of this book,

to go into any details of the thousands and thousands of people,

living and dead, who have been led from a life of wretchedness and sin

to happiness and peace. Of the thousands and thousands of people who

have been _materially_ assisted, I can only speak, generally, a little

later on. These facts, however, are evident in every line of this

biography. What I have not hitherto insisted upon, but which,

nevertheless, is a curious and interesting fact, is that the Tower

Hamlets Mission, which centres in the Great Assembly Hall, has always

been an _aristocratic_ Mission.

Charrington himself has never sought publicity. He has lived a very

humble and quiet life, scarcely known personally outside the East End

of London, and even during late years, since the beautiful island of

Osea has passed into his possession and he has a noble country house

there, he has by no means lived constantly upon the Island. He is firm

as ever in his devotion to the East End, and his visits to Osea are

only occasional. And yet, though Mr. Charrington is so little

personally known, his institution of "The Great Assembly Hall" is

known the world over. He is known by his works, "his works do follow

him." He has never gone beyond his work.

This is an undoubted fact. And yet, throughout his whole labours, he

has been supported by some of the leading people of the country.

Except in cases of very rare and intimate friendship, such as that

with the Hon. Ion Keith-Falconer, and the Earl of Kintore, his

father--with a few others--Mr. Charrington has always refused to enter

into the _social_ life of the great people who have shared his

_Christian_ life and helped in his _Christian_ work. One memorable

visit to "Broadlands," the seat of Lord Mount Temple near Romsey,

deserves mention. Among the guests were the great Lord Shaftesbury and

the late Mr. Wyndham Portal, then Chairman of the South Eastern

Railway. Mr. Portal told Mr. Charrington that he had often played

billiards with Lord Palmerston, who on returning from the House of

Lords--generally at a very late hour--always played a game.

The billiard room at "Broadlands" was preserved exactly as Lord

Palmerston had left it when he played his last game there. This, of

course, was a private visit, but Mr. Charrington afterwards attended a

religious conference held at the house. Men of all shades of opinion

were present, and Mr. Charrington spoke on the same day as Canon Body.

He is not unsocial, however--you have a pen-picture of the man as he

is in the last chapter of this book. It is simply that he cannot,

_will_ not, spare a minute from active good works in the East End.

Yet it would be wrong of me, as his biographer, if I did not draw

attention to the support he has had, and this is a fitting place in

which to do it.

I certainly ought to mention the late Lady Ashburton. This lady,

famous in her lifetime for her good deeds, was always a patron of Mr.

Charrington's work. In 1881 she paid the whole expense of taking two

thousand five hundred members and friends of the Great Assembly Hall

to Southend-on-Sea, and at the time of the Battle of the Music Halls

she bore all the expense of the Rescue Home for Girls, besides giving

large donations to the work.

It was when present at the opening of a beautiful hall which Lady

Ashburton built at Canning Town, that Mr. Charrington first met the

late Duchess of Teck. After the proceedings, the Duchess turned to the

Marquis of Northampton, and said, in that breezy and genial way, for

which she was so well known, "But where is Mr. Charrington? No one has

introduced me to Mr. Charrington! I _must_ see Mr. Charrington. Please

bring him to me."

Mr. Charrington had the honour of being presented to the Duchess, who

was accompanied by the then Princess May, now Queen of England, and

had a most interesting conversation with the royal couple.

Subsequently the Duchess and the Princess visited the Great Assembly

Hall, accompanied by Lord Dorchester, and were shown over that noble

building.

It is interesting to note that our beloved Queen Mary has herself

stood in that great East End centre of sweetness and life. It is more

interesting still to record that King George himself gave the first of

those regular "feedings of the hungry," which have continued without

intermission every Sunday for so many years, and have literally saved

people from actual starvation, time after time.

A good deal has been said in this book about the late Earl of

Shaftesbury--the good Earl, as he was known to every one. The present

Earl of Shaftesbury, Chamberlain to the Queen, has continued his

predecessor's interest in the work of the Great Assembly Hall. As many

people know, Lord Shaftesbury has a very beautiful voice--indeed, an

enterprising American syndicate once offered him a thousand pounds a

night to go to the United States and sing in public!! It is needless

to say that this offer was refused, but in interesting contrast to it

is the fact that Lord Shaftesbury one night came to the Great Assembly

Hall from the West End during a furious tempest which would have

deterred nine men out of ten, and sang "The Star of Bethlehem," and an

excerpt from "Elijah," to the poor people who were being fed at the

time.

I wish I could recount the innumerable incidents which have occurred

when great or famous people have visited the hall. It is impossible to

do so, however, for they in themselves would make another book. But,

as showing the extent of the help Mr. Charrington has been able to

command, I will at least give a list of famous names--a list for which

I recently wrote to the secretary of the Mission, Mr. Edwin H.

Kerwin.

Such names as these have a definite weight, which is the sole reason

why I give them.

H.R.H. Princess Mary, Duchess of Teck; H.R.H. Princess May,

Duchess of York (now Queen Mary); The Duchess of Bedford,

The Duchess of Sutherland, The Rt. Hon. the Earl of

Shaftesbury; Louisa, Lady Ashburton; Lord Radstock, Lady

Radstock, The Hon. Ion Keith-Falconer, Lady Hobart, Hon.

Hamilton Tollemache, The Earl of Kintore, Hon. Granville

Waldegrave, Lady Beauchamp, Lady Blanche Keith-Falconer, Sir

R. Beauchamp, The Earl of Aberdeen, Lady Rosslyn, The Hon.

E. Waldegrave, Princess Lina and Olga Galitzin, The Countess

of Warwick, Lady Eva Grenville, Hon. A. Ayrton, Count A.

Bernstorff (Berlin), Princess Alexander Paschkoff, The Duke

and Duchess of Westminster, Prince Oscar of Sweden and

Norway, The Baroness Burdett-Coutts, The Countess of

Seafield (Georgina), Lady Henry Somerset, Baroness Langenan,

Lord Esme Gordon, Prince Galitzin, Lady Hope, Lord and Lady

Carrington, The Earl of Westmoreland, Hon. G. Kinnaird, Hon.

Emily Kinnaird, Hon. Elizabeth Kinnaird, Lord Kinnaird, Hon.

Mary Waldegrave, Sir Arthur Blackwood, The Earl and the

Countess of Dudley, The Countess Amherst, The Countess of

Portsmouth, Sir George Williams, Lady Algernon

Gordon-Lennox, The Marchioness of Ripon, Lady Gray, Sir

George Cooper, Bart., Julia, Marchioness of Tweedale,

Dowager Countess of Warwick, The Hon. Harry Lawson, Lady

Cooper, Lady Rookwood, Lady Brownlow Cecil, The Viscountess

Dupplin, The Hon. Randolph Adderley, Lord Brabazon, Lord

Rosebery, K.G., Lady Macnaughton, Lady Warren, Lord

Rothschild, Lord Beresford, Lord Coleridge, Q.C.; Lady

Pullar, Lady Ernestine Bruce, Lady Mary Lawson, Count

Paschoff (Berlin), Sir James Whitehead, Bart., Sir Wilfred

Lawson, Bart., Sir James Anderson, Bart.; The Hon. Montagu

Waldegrave, The Hon. F. Bridgeman, M.P.; Sir John Pullar,

Major-Lieut. Sir Charles Warren, Rev. Canon Wilberforce.

I will also add that one of the most munificent of Mr. Charrington's

millionaire supporters was the late Mr. John Cory. He gave Mr.

Charrington two hundred a year as a regular thing. In addition to

that, from time to time he bestowed large sums upon the Mission

entirely independent of his yearly subscription. Shortly before his

death he sent Mr. Charrington a cheque for a thousand pounds to cover

the expense of the village hall on Osea Island, and, when recently

staying with Sir Clifford Cory, Bart., Mr. Charrington ascertained

from him the fact that his father gave away in charity nearly a

thousand pounds each week!

Yet Mr. Charrington has found that the millionaires of to-day are not

nearly so ready with their cheques as those of the past. The great

growth of material comfort, the increasing love of magnificence and

splendour, seems indeed to have deafened the ears of the very rich to

the piteous cry of the starving poor in the East End. If only this

book awakens some of those so abundantly blessed with riches to what

has been done, and is being done, by Mr. Charrington, then its

publication will indeed be blessed.

Did not the late Lord Shaftesbury say--and is it not true

to-day?--"This is a great and mighty work. I can only say that I

rejoice to think that such a work as this is to be extended, and well

does our friend Charrington deserve it. No man living, in my

estimation, is more worthy of success for the devotion of his heart,

the perseverance of his character, the magnificence of his object, and

the way in which he has laboured, by day and night, until he has

completed this great issue."

I went, a few weeks ago, during the time of the great dock strike of

this year--1912--to see the actual feeding of the hungry in Mr.

Charrington's hall. I wish I could have taken with me a dozen of the

richest men in England. I defy the most flinty-hearted Dives in

existence to see what I saw, and remain untouched.

And, remember, that what I saw has gone on regularly for a long space

of time.

I arrived at the Great Assembly Hall just after lunch upon a Sunday.

Outside the hall a uniformed band was gathering, and by it stood a

large, portable hoarding, mounted upon a handcart, bearing the words,

"The Great Assembly Hall," and inviting all and sundry to visit the

hall that evening and attend the service.

Even at that early hour--the "feeding" was not to take place till two

hours later--along the railings which border the small ornamental

garden which forms an oasis in the roaring Mile End Road, and are

immediately in front of the hall, a crowd of patient, silent men had

formed a _queue_, extending for many yards, and shepherded by a couple

of watching policemen. There they stood in line, men of all ages, from

the very old to the mere lad, the faces of each one of them pinched

and gashed with hunger. The eyes had a dull, hopeless stare, the weary

figures in their rags expressed the utmost dejection in every curve.

[Illustration: THE GREAT ASSEMBLY HALL

Feeding thousands of London's poor

[_To face p. 196._]

The band started a stirring march, Mr. Charrington and I at its

head, together with various other workers of the Mission, who

distributed handbills of the evening service as we went along.

We marched a little way down the Mile End Road, and then we turned

into some of the narrowest and most dreadful slums of London. In some

of these slums the policemen have to patrol in couples for fear of

aggression. At every door, at every window of these rookeries, were

dozens upon dozens of faces, with the marks of drink and deep poverty

upon them. Children swarmed everywhere like bees in a hive. And yet,

among all that misery and destitution, it was most pathetic to see how

many of them--the little girls especially--were as neatly dressed as

their parents could manage, and how their shining hair was brushed and

tied up with odds and ends of ribbons.

We passed a large group of young men openly gambling upon the

pavement. We passed a little house where, not so very long before, two

young men had entered at seven o'clock in the morning, and murdered an

old woman who lived there for the sake of a few shillings. We passed

innumerable drunken men, some of them fighting and quarrelling among

themselves, and more than one drunken woman leaned, leering and

nodding, against the wall of her house.

And yet, not a word was said against us. In no single instance, during

that two hours' progress, was even an insult hurled at Mr. Charrington

or his friends. On the contrary, people waved cheerily to him from

upper windows, and he brandished the inevitable umbrella, which he

carries as a sort of baton upon these occasions, with a merry

greeting. The little children ran to him and hung to the tails of his

frock-coat, proud to hold his hand, and to march with him at the head

of the music. In streets where at least half of the population were

known to the police, and were of the definitely criminal classes,

there was nothing but welcome for the evangelist and his music. There

was no preaching whatever. Now and again, where two or three foul,

dark streets converged, the band stopped and played, very touchingly

and sweetly, for it is composed of first-class instrumentalists, that

beautiful hymn, "Lead, Kindly Light." That was all, though on all

hands the eager helpers were distributing handbills and inviting

everyone to come to the Great Hall in the evening.

We had started upon the last part of our march, after one of these

halts, when a very drunken man came up to me, and thrust his arm

through mine. He had not lost the power of his legs--at any rate with

my assistance--and for half an hour or more he insisted on walking

thus with me, by Mr. Charrington's side and at the head of the band,

pouring out praises of the evangelist in a thick, but sufficiently

intelligible voice! It was a curious experience--to me, at least--but

it did not seem anything out of the way to my new friends. Suddenly

the head of an old man protruded from an upper window, and a voice

hailed Mr. Charrington in loud and friendly greeting.

"Who's your friend?" I asked, and when the answer came I looked with

added interest, for every one who reads newspapers has heard of the

old gentleman known as "Bill Onions,"--that writer of curious

doggerel verse, who has been imprisoned something like 480 times for

drunkenness, and who, for many years now, has been a convinced

teetotaler, and every year attends at the police court of his last

conviction to receive the congratulations of the magistrate!

When we got back to the Great Assembly Hall the crowd of the hungry

had enormously increased, as also had the attendant policemen. The

gates leading into the smaller hall, where the feeding takes place,

were opened, and the men filed in, shepherded by the policemen, and

delivered their cards of admission.

I stood outside and watched, and it was explained to me that only a

certain number of men--and women, in another hall which I did not see

on this occasion--were able to feed each Sunday. I think the number is

somewhat over seven hundred. But it always happens that a certain

number of the tickets which have been distributed on the previous

Sunday are not used. There are generally about twenty. The recipients

may have got work, may have left London in search of it, or may, alas,

have succumbed to their privations, and be where hunger can tear them

no more, as was the case with one poor woman who came to the hall on a

Sunday, and had her first meal for that day. On the following Monday

and Tuesday it was afterwards ascertained that she had nothing

whatever, and she died on the Wednesday.

This is known, and, in consequence, a large number of poor outcasts

join the _queue_ in the hope that there will be room for them.

When all the regular ticket-holders had been admitted, the tickets

were counted, and, upon this occasion, it was found that some

seventeen more invitations were available.

Seventeen men were counted off from the _queue_, their faces

brightening with an inexpressible relief as they marched into the

hall. But I never saw, in all my life, anything like the hopeless

despair that came upon the faces of the large number of men who were

left, who had waited for hours upon this single chance of a meal, and

who must now disperse unsatisfied. It touched the very spring of

tears, and stabbed the heart with a pain that cannot be forgotten. It

was my first experience of anything of the sort, and it was at that

moment that I began to realise--though only dimly, then--what Mr.

Charrington was doing, and had been doing, for forty long years. The

excellent lunch I had just had at my club in the West End seemed to

turn to stone within me.

I have little space to devote to the actual meal. I shared it--it was

good and sufficient. I sat upon the platform and saw the ravenous

eagerness with which these poor men ate what they could. Many of them

saved a crust or two and wrapped it in their handkerchiefs to make

another meal later on. At the conclusion of the tea, a very short

speech was made by a gentleman connected with the Mission, who had, in

the past, nearly ruined himself with drink, but is now a happy and

prosperous Christian, helping to uplift others. It was not a

sensational speech, the emotions of the hungry were not worked up by

rhetoric. It was a simple, heartfelt statement.

At the conclusion, more than twenty men of their own accord walked up

to a little side table and signed the pledge. This goes on day by day

in the Great Assembly Hall, and the percentage of those who keep their

promise has been investigated! It is well over fifty per cent.!

Upon the evening of the next Sunday I attended the service in the

great hall itself.

The enormous place was packed with people. The upper gallery of all

was absolutely crowded by men, many of them in the last stages of

destitution, all of them quiet, reverent, and attentive. I was told

that a large number of them admitted, to use their own words, that

they had "done time." Of the service itself I will say little. I have

already quoted other opinions of such services. But, to me personally,

who had never been present in my life at anything of the sort, the

impression was wholly satisfying. The music was perfect. The singing

was by a vast trained choir, the finest that can be heard in the East

End of London. The enormous organ was assisted by a band as well as

the singers. There was absolutely nothing sensational, _nothing

bizarre, nothing vulgar or in bad taste_.

The gospel and the gospel only was preached. Any shibboleths

would--personally--have repelled me. Nothing but the story of Jesus

and His love for humanity was told. Mr. Charrington himself presided.

The preacher was my friend Mr. James B. Wookey, whose testimony to the

work accomplished by the evangelist's powers is given in another part

of this book.

I was sitting just behind him upon the high platform, surrounded by

the Deacons and Choir. I could not see the preacher's face, but his

voice, which went pealing out into the great Hall before me, reached

my mind as well as my ears with every inflection and change of note.

It was an occasion which I shall not easily forget. Here was a man

preaching to an enormous number of people in the first place. No

ordinary church would hold such a concourse. In the second place the

congregation was unique. There were well-dressed and prosperous people

not only upon the platform, but in the body of the Hall and first

gallery, and stretching right away to the roof were hundreds upon

hundreds of outcasts, the men and women for whom Society has no

place--the down-trodden and despised.

To these Mr. Wookey addressed an appeal, couched in very simple

language, yet it was his use of English which drove home in an

extraordinary way.

If we think of it, the greatest effect in all appeals to the heart

have been got by the use and arrangement of simple words. If one takes

that triumph of the English language, Milton's Lycidas, it is

extraordinary to notice how in the most tender and most beautiful

lines the monosyllable predominates.

It was just that fact which the preacher of this night thoroughly

understood. It was strong nervous English, capable of being

comprehended by the meanest individual in the Hall, and yet it was

tensely living English also. I confess to extreme surprise. In a

minute or two, however, my point of view was changed. I was touched,

and deeply touched by the intense pathos of an appeal such as I have

seldom heard. I was caught up, as many other members of the

congregation were also, by the almost painful driving force, the

tremendous earnestness behind the words. I watched the faces in the

gallery, row after row; I saw the tense and almost breathless interest

upon every one of them. Nobody moved or stirred. The congregation was

frozen into attention.

The subject of the sermon was simple enough. We were asked to give up

our sins, we were entreated almost with tears to give up strong drink,

and come to Jesus. Not simply in the hope of personal happiness and

future salvation--though this was, of course, implied--but because

every evil act we commit gives personal pain to the Saviour who died

for us. It was an intensely moving sermon, and it must have knocked at

the hearts of very many of us. There was a dead silence, and in tones

faltering with emotion, the preacher concluded by quoting the

well-known couplets--

"He died that we might be forgiven,

He died to make us good,

That we might go at last to Heaven,

Saved by His Precious Blood."

Afterwards, in a large room under the hall, I saw many fallen men and

women kneeling quietly with one or other of the helpers and confessing

all their sin and troubles to Him who alone can heal and pardon.

Strange experiences have been the lot of Mr. Charrington during this

part of the work. On one occasion a young man was about to commit

suicide, and had a bottle of poison in his pocket. Mr. Charrington

wrestled with him upon the floor of the room and took the bottle from

him by force, thus saving his life.

So much for my own experiences. Let me conclude this necessarily

circumscribed account of the living, burning activities of the Great

Assembly Hall at this day, by telling my readers that upon Lord

Mayor's Day, when the Chief Magistrate of London holds his Civic State

in the grand old hall in the city, two or three thousand of the very

poorest are also entertained at the Great Assembly Hall by Mr.

Charrington and his co-workers, on behalf of the Lord Mayor, the

Sheriffs, and the City Companies.

The poor have enjoyed this banquet for twenty-six years in succession,

and I take a typical account of one of these feasts from the columns

of a daily paper published in 1902.

"There was a pleasing though pathetic scene witnessed last

night in the Great Assembly Hall, Mile End Road, when a

large number of London's destitute poor were entertained to

supper. As the people of all ages trooped in to take their

seats at the long benches laden with good things, many a wan

face brightened, as it had probably never brightened before,

at the prospect of a good and nourishing meal. For the most

part the people came with freshly washed faces, and nicely

combed hair, and to one who did not know the vast metropolis

and its slums, it would be impossible to believe that these

were the people--or at least, many of them--who practically

lived in the streets, and helped to augment their own and

their parents' incomes by selling matches, flowers, and

other articles along the kerbside. There were about two

thousand guests, and when they once 'fell to' there was

almost a silence. This gradually increased into a murmur,

then into a general clatter of tongues as the good fare

began to warm them. Then, here and there, came a merry peal

of laughter. By the time the meal was finished, every one

was gay and happy; each was in a veritable fairyland, and

quite oblivious of the life of the morrow. But even such a

momentary ray of sunshine into the lives of toil and trouble

may help to fashion a character and teach not a few of them

what can be done by kindness and well-dispensed generosity,

while those who were responsible for the feast were amply

recompensed.

"This annual gathering was begun in the year 1887, when

three to four hundred people were fed, and from that time

onward, owing to the flow of contributions, for which the

Lord Mayors of London and their Sheriffs have been in a

large degree responsible, the number of people provided for

at this annual gathering has reached upwards of two

thousand. The task of finding out the most deserving has

been left to the clergymen, ministers, mission workers, city

missionaries and others. No distinction of sect is made.

Each recipient received a meat pie, a cake, two apples, and

a loaf, while tea was plentifully supplied. At the

conclusion of the meal, a very amusing entertainment was

provided. The following telegram was sent to the Lord Mayor:

'Two thousand guests send greetings and thanks to Lord

Mayor, Lady Mayoress, and Sheriffs.'"

The reply came speedily, and was as follows--

"Lord Mayor, Lady Mayoress, Sheriffs, and Ladies, greet the

guests at Assembly Hall, and thank them for telegram which

will be read by Lord Mayor to company at Guildhall. Lord

Mayor hopes guests are spending pleasant evening, and

regrets he cannot personally greet them.

"Lord Mayor."

"Shortly after nine o'clock these happy people for a while

went out into the Mile End Road and sought their squalid

homes, after threading their way through London's murky

streets on a typical November night. Who is responsible?

What is responsible? How shall the sufferings of the poor of

the East End of London be alleviated?"

The following appeared in the _Daily Graphic_, November 11, 1902--

THE OTHER BANQUET

"In the East End, when people speak of the Lord Mayor's

Banquet, they do not refer to the affair at the Guildhall,

but to the meal which has now been provided at the Assembly

Hall, Mile End Road, on sixteen consecutive Lord Mayor's

Days. Mr. Charrington is responsible for the organisation of

this treat to the East End poor--a treat which is doled out

to any who are deserving of it and need it, irrespective of

their nationality or religious belief. Two thousand

invitations were issued for the banquet held last night. The

tickets were given for distribution to any responsible men

and women who applied for them. All the two thousand

invitations were accepted, but, in addition to these, a very

few guests were invited at very short notice; in fact, they

came to the doors--hundreds of them--and clamoured for

admission. They had but one excuse to offer for their

behaviour--they were hungry. Some of them were brought

inside the gates and as many as could be fed, were fed, but

there were hundreds who had to be persuaded by the police to

go away. They came back to the doors again--and again--and

again. For what? A cup or two of hot tea, and a paper bag

containing a pork pie, a pound cake, a roll, and two

apples. After the meal there was some music by the students'

orchestral band, a few speeches, and a display of animated

photographs given by Mr. Luscombe Toms. The guests were

welcomed by Mr. Charrington, in the name of the Lord Mayor,

and a telegram of thanks and congratulation was sent to the

Lord Mayor and the Sheriffs. The Lord Mayor had contributed

twenty guineas towards the expenses, the Sheriffs ten

guineas each, Sir Horace Marshall twenty guineas, and

donations had also been received from several City

Companies, and members of the Common Council. When the

banquet and entertainment were over, all the paper bags had

gone, and the urns, which had contained three hundred and

fifty gallons of tea, were empty. Outside there was a

hungry, envious crowd."

There has always been a great Banquet at Christmas also, in addition

to that provided by the Lord Mayor upon his day.

It is interesting to remember that last year before King George left

these shores to proceed to the Great Durbar, he not only took thought

for the high business of State, but also for the needs of his poorer

subjects. He sent a cheque for ten pounds from Buckingham Palace to

aid the Tower Hamlets Mission in its work of feeding the East End poor

at Christmas. Mr. Charrington announced the fact to the guests and

intimated that the present was the third occasion on which King George

had sent a cheque for the purpose.

An enormous work has been done among the children of the East End in

connection with the Great Assembly Hall. There is the largest Sunday

school in London, there are many agencies for giving the little ones

holidays away from their sordid surroundings.

Quite adjacent to the Great Assembly Hall is another Hall capable of

seating 1000, known as the Children's Hall. It is used exclusively for

Christian and Temperance work amongst the children of the

neighbourhood, and is under the control of Mr. Edward H. Mason, who is

also Superintendent of the Sunday School, which is probably one of the

largest in the Metropolis.

Much attention is devoted to music. Complete Oratorios, and also Gems

from the Oratorios are frequently given, the large Choir and Orchestra

being composed entirely of the working people of the neighbourhood,

and have been brought to a high state of perfection by the Musical

Director of the Mission, Mr. G. Day Winter.

The Temperance work--Mr. Charrington's life-work--is unceasing. I have

thought it just to sum up all that the evangelist has done for the

cause of Temperance in another chapter, so I need not refer to it

further in this.

But I must certainly mention the emigration work which has been

carried on in connection with the Hall with great success. One of the

principal helpers in this work was Captain Hamilton, a retired Army

Captain, who for many years took an unceasing interest in the

emigration problem in connection with the Tower Hamlets Mission. Four

thousand people were sent out to Canada from the Hall, and finally, by

a curious turn of fate, Captain Hamilton himself emigrated to British

Columbia.

My endeavour in writing of the Great Assembly Hall is rather to give

a vivid picture of all that goes on there, without a multiplicity of

detail. But if this account leads any one to wish for further

information--as I pray that it may lead many people--a postcard to Mr.

Edwin H. Kerwin, the secretary, will immediately bring them all the

information he or she may wish to obtain.

"He who giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord."

CHAPTER IX

THE APOSTLE OF TEMPERANCE

Mr. Charrington's name is, of course, indissolubly linked with the

Temperance cause. His work for Temperance has been the most strenuous

of all his efforts. His hatred of strong drink, begun so many years

ago when he gave up the great fortune that was made from beer,

persists to-day with undiminished force.