Did these exist in former times? I recollect when we
     propounded nineteen years ago that the theatres should be
     opened for divine service on every successive Sunday, we
     were treated by some with scorn, by some with doubt (very
     sincere doubt), and by all with misgiving. What has been the
     result? Such gatherings as these. Thus the Gospel of God has
     been sounded out in the metropolis, and I, in going the
     rounds of our great cities in the dark hours of the night,
     have found that by such means as these many have come to
     know of the Gospel.

     "The grand leading principle is to deal out to the hundreds
     and thousands of these districts a knowledge of the Lord
     Jesus Christ. And let me tell you how low people may fall,
     even as it were in the centre of religious light, unless
     that truth is brought home to them personally and
     individually. Some years ago, when our commissioners were
     making inquiry into the mines and collieries of this
     kingdom, one of the commissioners--a most excellent man, and
     very anxious about the religious welfare of the
     community--told me himself that in one of the largest
     colliery districts of England, he descended into a pit, and
     spoke to the man there--a hard-working man; and being
     anxious to know something of his religious state, said to
     him, 'Do you know Jesus Christ?' 'No,' was the reply; 'does
     he work on the bank, or in the pit?' Such was the state of a
     man in the middle of one of the most populous districts in
     England, in the mines and collieries, the centre of hundreds
     and thousands so utterly ignorant of the first elements of
     religion that he had never heard the name of the Saviour of
     mankind. But if none go forth to the highways and to the
     hedges to gather them in; if there be none to invite them to
     places such as these; none to reveal to them the nature of
     sin and the fallen condition of man in his present state,
     they will certainly not learn it by intuition. Man has to
     preach the Gospel to man; and it is a sense of this duty
     that is occupying such men as Mr. Charrington and others in
     their endeavours to communicate to you the blessing God has
     so abundantly imparted to them. I am delighted to see such a
     meeting as this, because I see the enthusiasm with which you
     come: and when you joined in those hymns, I saw that you
     sang them from your hearts, that you knew what you were
     singing, and that the hymns were not merely exercises of
     music, but the expressions of true devotion. It is a mighty
     thing to have achieved such results in the wild and remote
     districts of the East of London, and would to God we had a
     hundred halls such as this! _where men of God should stand
     and daily preach the Word of God, and minister consolation
     to those who come_. Mr. Charrington has said that he desires
     a larger building, and so do you desire it, and so let every
     one desire it, and pray for it heartily, and do what in him
     lies to get it. Every person, I say, every woman, and every
     child may be a centre of influence. And recollect what that
     means. Your influence may be small, but if it be a centre it
     makes a little ring of itself, and these concentric rings
     one after another will at length cover the whole space of
     London, and will produce a feeling that will issue in the
     accomplishment of the prayer which Mr. Charrington has so
     devoutly pronounced. I trust you will have that building,
     and that it will be consecrated, as this one has been, to
     the knowledge of God and the salvation of souls. I am afraid
     I can say no more. I doubt whether you have heard what I
     have said. I heartily pray God that blessing may descend on
     you all, collectively and individually, in this great and
     important district of Stepney and Whitechapel."

I have been tempted to give longer extracts than I at first intended.

Such words as these, however, definitely present the Tower Hamlets
Mission of those days to your mind, and they also have a real historic
value. I make no further apology for giving them.

They strike a note, however, which naturally leads me on to the next
period in Mr. Charrington's life. They are most fitting to conclude
this chapter, inasmuch as they definitely point to the movement which
resulted in the building of the largest mission hall in the world, and
establishing upon a firm and concrete basis the most successful
unsectarian mission ever known.

Only the other day the papers announced the death of General Booth.
The fame of that great leader of men and mighty warrior in God's cause
has penetrated to the utmost corners of the earth. Yet, it was pointed
out in a leading article in the _Daily Telegraph_ that there were
other organisations, no less wonderful in what they had accomplished,
no less deserving of reverence and support, which nevertheless were
hardly heard of--comparatively speaking--by the outside world.

Mr. Charrington's name was specially mentioned in this regard.

It is, perhaps, a whimsical fancy, but I like to think that--and
Frederick Charrington has said as much to me--I have, in some sense,
in this book, discovered him, from an unknown country. All this life
he has worked for God, seeking no personal fame, no undue
advertisement.

Comparisons very often lend themselves to the grotesque.

I am no Stanley, but, be that as it may, I have found another
Livingstone in a forest no less dark, impenetrable, and unknown, than
that tropic gloom where the great journalist of the New York newspaper
pressed the hand of the saintly missionary of Africa.

You are now to read three chapters which deal in detail with
adventures in the cause of Christ as thrilling as anything in modern
fiction. Afterwards we shall arrive at that glorious fruition of Mr.
Charrington's work, which resulted in the building of the Great
Assembly Hall.

But now--to the battles!

CHAPTER IV

DAVID AND JONATHAN

I suppose few eminent men of our time have been more blessed with
friends than Frederick Charrington.

From the highest to the lowest he has had, and has, troops of devoted
men and women who reverence and love him.

But there has been one friendship in his life which deserves to rank
with the great friendships of the world, so uninterrupted, so firm and
beautiful, was it. No life of the great evangelist would be complete
without an account of his friendship with the late Hon. Ion
Keith-Falconer, third son of the late Earl of Kintore.

This young man, who died at the untimely age of thirty-one, while
engaged in whole-hearted missionary work at Aden, was one of the most
remarkable intellects and personalities of his day. The beauty of his
character, the ardour of his missionary zeal, his great learning,
formed a combination rarely equalled. His life was one of true
nobility and unselfishness. In its harmonious beauty, and the rich
variety of its aspects, it was unique. That this man and Frederick
Charrington should have been more than brothers to each other, is one
of the most interesting and touching episodes in the latter's life.

"I count all things but loss for Christ" was the essence of
Keith-Falconer's career, and he found his truest inspiration, his
greatest opportunity for doing good, in his friendship for Frederick
Charrington. I have heard much of this association. Many things are
almost too intimate to be recorded here. But with all the information
placed at my disposal, and from the excellent _Memorials of the Hon.
Ion Keith-Falconer_, published nearly thirty years ago by the Rev.
Robert Sinker, D.D., librarian of Trinity College, Cambridge, I have
been able to reconstruct much of a friendship passing the love of
women, as firm, and true, as called forth from Lord Tennyson these
noble words when Hallam died--

    "Of those that, eye to eye, shall look
      On knowledge; under whose command
      Is Earth and Earth's, and in their hand
    Is Nature like an open book;

    No longer half akin to brute,
      For all we thought and loved and did,
      And hoped, and suffer'd, is but seed
    Of what in them is flower and fruit.

    Whereof the man, that with me trod
      This planet, was a noble type
      Appearing ere the times were ripe,
    That friend of mine who lives in God.

    That God, which ever lives and loves,
      One God, one law, one element
      And one far-off divine event,
    To which the whole creation moves."

Ion Grant Neville Keith-Falconer was born at Edinburgh on the 5th
July, 1856.

His earlier years were spent at Keith Hall, varied by long visits to
Brighton and elsewhere. His childhood was quite uneventful, though,
even in those early days, his mother afterwards spoke of his intense,
and, as it were, innate truthfulness, and his unvarying thoughtfulness
for others--not always prominent characteristics in children who may
afterwards develop into the best of men.

At the age of eleven he was sent to the large preparatory school of
Cheam in Surrey, where he gained a good many prizes, and seems to have
been thoroughly happy.

In 1869, when thirteen years of age, Ion Keith-Falconer went to Harrow
to compete for an Entrance Scholarship, which he was successful in
obtaining.

In July 1873, I find the first reference to Frederick Charrington in a
letter written by the young man of seventeen from Harrow. He had
already made Mr. Charrington's acquaintance, who was six years his
senior, in or about the year 1871, when Mr. Charrington was on a
walking tour in Aberdeenshire, and was invited by Lord Kintore to
Keith Hall. In later years, when Lord Kintore had passed to his rest
in 1880, Keith-Falconer wrote to Mr. E. H. Kerwin, the secretary of
the Tower Hamlets Mission: "It is pleasant to me to reflect that it
was my father who first introduced me to Charrington and his work, and
that he so cordially supported the Tower Hamlets Mission. I hope that
his sudden departure may be a means of blessing to the careless,
perhaps to some who heard him speak in the Great Assembly Hall."

The following is part of the letter I have referred to, written during
the closing days of Keith-Falconer's life.

"Charrington sent me a book yesterday which I have read. It is called
_Following Fully_ ... about a man who works among the cholera people
in London, so hard that he at length succumbs and dies. But every page
is full of Jesus Christ, so that I liked it. And I like Charrington,
because he is quite devoted to Him, and has really given up all for
His sake. I must go and do the same soon; how, I do not know."

There is another letter extant which was written from Mr.
Charrington's house upon Stepney Green, towards the end of that same
year.

It states that "after dinner we went the rounds to inspect the tent
for preaching, and Charrington lent it to a little missionary to hold
a midnight meeting in on Thursday. We also visited the Mission Hall,
where they were making a pool for baptising people in.... In the
evening a well-attended meeting at the tent; foul air. After the
meeting the speakers were Dr. Sharpe, an old but very energetic and
godly Scotchman, _broad accent_, a soldier from Wellington Barracks
and Mr. Kerwin. We went to have some tea and then to the hospital to
see a man supposed to be dying, but found to be recovering. I have
lots to do here. I did not get to bed till nearly one o'clock, having
been up nineteen hours. We visited the Boys' Homes, which I think a
capital place. The dormitaries were perfect; the ventilation,
cleanliness and comfort, could not have been better looked after."

At the end of the summer term of 1873, Keith-Falconer finally left
Harrow, it being decided he should spend the last year before entering
Cambridge with a tutor.

Even at this early age, the friendship between the two young men had
become fixed and immutable. The work in the East End to which Mr.
Charrington was now so fully committed, and was carrying out with such
success and blessing, was one which irresistibly appealed to Lord
Kintore's son. The needs, spiritual and other, of that part of London
were, and are, so great as to force attention from the most casual
observer. And it was what Mr. Charrington had seen at the very
beginning of his career, what he was one of the first evangelists to
realise, that thoroughly coincided with Keith-Falconer's frame of
mind. Charrington made it as the very basis of his work, that all
attempts should proceed uniformly throughout on what he justly felt
was the true principle of civilising by Christianising. Mr.
Charrington has never been one of those--and was not then--who start
with the idea that the religious life comes more readily when the
material conditions of life are improved. He knew, of course, that
there would often be great material need, but in such cases he saw his
duty as a teacher of the Gospel perfectly clear. He would not, of
course, offer Christian teaching to men and women in such dire bodily
need that they were unable to accept it, without making any effort to
meet those needs. But, on the other hand, he would not insist on first
civilising in every possible way save by religion--to attempt to
educate the masses by art, general education, and so forth--and then,
and only then, allow religion to be brought to bear and come into
their lives.

In due course Mr. Keith-Falconer proceeded to Cambridge. A don of
that University, speaking of him as he was at this period, and,
indeed, he altered but little from this time to the end of his short
life, says--

     "His appearance at this time, his manner, his tastes, were
     all strikingly like what they were in later times. He had a
     remarkably tall, well-shaped figure, whose symmetry seemed
     to take off from his height of six feet three inches.
     Physically very strong he certainly was, in one sense, or
     his wonderful feats of athletic endeavour would have been
     impossible. Yet, for all those feats, which were partly due,
     no doubt, to the sustaining power of a strong will, he could
     not really be called robust.

     "His kindly voice and genial smile will live in the
     recollection of his friends; like good Bishop Hacket of
     Lichfield, he might have taken as his motto, 'Serve God and
     be cheerful.' Side by side, however, with his geniality,
     there was in Keith-Falconer at all times the most perfect
     and, so to speak, transparent simplicity. Never was a
     character more free from any alloy of insincerity or
     meanness. No undertone of veiled unkindness, or jealousy, or
     selfishness, found place in his conversation. From the most
     absolute truthfulness he would never waver; his frank, open
     speech was genuine, the unmixed outcome of his feelings.

     "A certain slight, very slight, deafness in one ear made him
     at times seem absent to those who did not know this, and
     unknowingly had sat or walked on the wrong side.

     "A characteristic habit of his seemed now and then to give a
     certain degree of irrelevance in his remarks. Sometimes,
     when in conversation on a topic which interested him, he
     would, after remaining silent for a short time, join again
     in the conversation with a remark not altogether germane to
     the point at issue. He had been following out a train of
     thought suggested by some passing remark, and after working
     out the idea on his own lines, as far as it would go, made
     his comment on the result. Yet whenever the conversation had
     to do with the interests or needs of those to whom he was
     speaking, no one could throw himself more completely, heart
     and mind, into the matter. Talk for talking's sake he
     cordially abhorred, that talk which is simply made as though
     silence were necessarily a bad thing in itself.

     "This interest in widely different topics of conversation
     was not, however, simply the result of mingled good-nature
     and courtesy, a mere complaisance, where it was but a
     careless good-nature that saved the courtesy from
     hollowness. Far from it. No one who knew Keith-Falconer
     well, needs to be told how thoroughly, how constantly, and
     in what varying ways, he could make the business or cause of
     another his own; whether it were a friend in need of help,
     from the most trifling to the most momentous matters, or the
     absolute stranger whom apparent chance had sent across his
     path.

     "Still, with all this, his kindliness was by no means one
     lacking in its proper counterpoise of discretion; his
     strong, clear-headed, Scotch common-sense was constantly
     manifest, even in his schemes of beneficence. Yet even thus
     it must be remembered that his was a character in which the
     warm heart was guided in its action by the clear head, not
     one in which the clear head did but allow itself to be
     swayed more or less by the loving heart. Love was the
     dominant power, discretion the corrective influence."

Mr. Charrington used to visit his friend at the University, and it was
there, as Mr. Richardson has informed me, that the evangelist obtained
a nickname which stuck to him for a long time. Special open-air
services used to be held upon "Parker's Piece" in the University city,
and on one occasion Keith-Falconer got his "gyp," as the men-servants
are called at Cambridge, to come and join in the meeting. At the close
Mr. Charrington was in the habit of speaking to those who had
attended, and in earnest expostulation with this man, not knowing who
he was, he said to him, "Down on your knees." After that, Charrington
was always known--in the University city, at any rate--as "Doyk."

[Illustration: DAVID AND JONATHAN

                                                   [_To face p. 90._]

In 1880 Mr. Keith-Falconer took a First Class in the Semitic Languages
Tripos. During the whole of his University career, not only was he one
of the most brilliant students of his time, but also a well-known
sportsman. There was no namby-pamby Christian about this young scion
of a great house. Everything he undertook he did well, and he became a
leading bicycle racer in England, scoring innumerable successes at
Cambridge, in the Inter-University meeting with Oxford, and defeating
the professional champion of England by five yards. All this time, and
I cannot give more than a mere outline of Keith-Falconer's career,
inasmuch as it is unconnected with the Tower Hamlets Mission and Mr.
Charrington, he was sitting for innumerable examinations, and building
up a record of scholarship which still survives. Yet he was most
actively connected with Mr. Charrington's work, and was, now very
shortly, to be more a part of it than ever. With his friend he
penetrated into the most miserable homes, he conducted many services,
and, as will be seen in further chapters, when the luridly exciting
story of the _Battle of the Music Halls_ is told, he was Mr.
Charrington's right-hand man.

One story of the earlier period was told me recently.

At the close of one of the meetings a little boy was found sobbing.
With some difficulty he was induced to tell his tale. It was simple.
His widowed mother, his sisters and he, all lived in one room.
Everything had been sold to buy bread except two white mice, the boy's
pets. Through all their poverty they had kept those two white mice,
but at last they, too, must go! With the proceeds he bought street
songs, which he retailed on the "waste," and so obtained the means of
getting more bread for his mother and sisters. Now they were
completely destitute. The boy was accompanied home. Home! It was a
wretched attic, in one of the most dilapidated houses. It was a
miserably cold and dismal day. In the broken-down grate the dead
embers of yesterday's fire remained. On the table, in a piece of
newspaper, a few crumbs. The air was close and the smell
insupportable. "My good woman," said Mr. Charrington, "why don't you
open the window?" "Oh," she replied, "you would not say that if you
had had nothing to eat, and had no fire to warm you." The family was
relieved.

He was intimately connected with the first beginnings of that famous
"feeding of the hungry," which has gone on under Mr. Charrington's
auspices for so many years, and is still one of the great living facts
of the East End of London.

_A-propos_ of this, Keith-Falconer wrote--

     "During the hard times of the winter of 1879 (due to the
     long frost and depression of trade), a work was forced on
     our Mission which we had never contemplated taking up. The
     difficulties and dangers of wholesale charity are very
     great, and our desire has been to avoid them, except in
     cases of extreme circumstances. But the distress of that
     winter _was_ extreme, and for many weeks we opened our halls
     and fed the literally starving multitudes with dry bread and
     cocoa. The austere distress began in December. Hundreds of
     men were waiting daily at the Docks in the hope (nearly
     always a disappointed hope) of a job. Starving men were
     found in several instances eating muddy orange-peel picked
     off the road.

     "Our feeding became a very public matter, as there was much
     correspondence about it in the _Times_, the _Daily News_,
     the _Echo_ and other leading papers, and many people came
     from long distances to see for themselves. The public
     supported us liberally with funds, and we were enabled to
     give no less than twenty thousand meals from January 1st to
     February 14th, besides which we assisted over three hundred
     families every week in their homes. We look back to the time
     as one of very great blessing."

Of this feeding I propose to give as graphic a description as I can in
its proper place, for I have attended at it myself, but I must pass on
now to the time when the young Professor--for Keith-Falconer was
shortly afterwards appointed examiner in the very Tripos where he had
so distinguished himself--threw his whole heart and soul into the
project for building the present Great Assembly Hall.

For a time had come when Mr. Charrington's success had become so
enormous, the whole machine so gigantic, that it was necessary to
erect a huge building commensurate with the needs of the mission.
Keith-Falconer was an invaluable helper. It is true that the great
mass of work devolving on Mr. Charrington required that there should
be also a secretary living in the midst of affairs and devoting his
whole attention to the work. Still, Mr. Keith-Falconer's post was far
from being a nominal one. In writing a business letter he was
exceedingly business-like; his facts were put in the clearest and most
methodical way. A letter from him asking for a subscription was no
effusive appeal; it was a quiet, sensible statement of facts, written
by a scholar and a master of English, all the more telling because the
writer had shown himself to take all possible pains to do justice to
his case.

An enormous sum of money was necessary, and at this juncture Mr.
Keith-Falconer made a direct appeal for help in the form of a
pamphlet.

This appeal, as his biographer points out, was so characteristic of
the writer, so thoroughly earnest, entertaining, as it did, no doubt
that the money would be forthcoming, and--as was his way in such
things--so quaintly methodical, that I give it here in full. It is
certainly one of the many historic documents in the archives of Mr.
Charrington's life work.

     "We now appeal for funds in order to erect a new and larger
     hall.

     "The present one is altogether unsuitable.

     (_a_) It is far too small. On Sunday nights
     hundreds are turned away for want of room. When, during two
     successive winters, the adjacent Lusby's Music Hall (one of
     the largest in London) was opened on Sunday nights
     simultaneously with our own hall, the united congregation
     usually amounted to 5000 persons. These facts tend to show
     that if we had a building sufficiently large, we could
     gather as many persons as the human voice can reach.

     (_b_) It is a temporary structure, which by the Metropolitan
     Buildings Act must come down sooner or later.

     (_c_) The corrugated iron is becoming dilapidated, and lets
     in the rain, so that rows of umbrellas are often put up
     during the service.

     (_d_) The cold is intense.

     (_e_) The acoustic properties are inferior.

    "Please add to this that our site is the very best in all East London.
    It ought surely to be utilised to the fullest extent. The present
    building only half covers it.

    "We have got the site, and we have got the people. May we not have a
    hall to accommodate them? The willingness to hear is very remarkable,
    and it is distressing to see hundreds and thousands turned away for
    want of mere room.

    "The guarantees which the public have that the work is a proper one,
    and that the new hall will be properly used, are:--

     1. The testimony of trustworthy persons who are
       acquainted with the mission. Mr. Spurgeon has written a
       warm letter. Lord Shaftesbury is an old friend of, and
       worker in, the mission. He has delivered several addresses
       in the hall. The late Lord Kintore was a warm and constant
       friend of the work. Mr. R. C. L. Bevan has both promised
       £2000 and consented to act as treasurer.

     2. A trust deed has been drawn up and signed, transferring
       the property to Trustees,--namely: F. A. Bevan, Esq.;
       Richard Cory Esq.; Frederick N. Charrington, Esq.; Hon. Ion
       Keith-Falconer; James Mathieson, Esq.; Samuel Morley, M.P.;
       Hon. Hamilton Tollemache; Joseph Weatherly, Esq.--and
       specifying the objects for which it is to be used.

"It may be objected that the East End ought to supply its own wants.
This is impossible. The population of the East End consists of the
working classes, who, though they furnish the sinews of wealth which
resides elsewhere, are poor themselves. Thus the East End has a double
right to look outside for help. It is poor and cannot help itself
adequately, and the wealthy are responsible for the well-being of
their servants, the toiling thousands through whose labour they derive
their incomes.

"The character of our Mission is evangelistic, unsectarian and sober.
I say sober, because of late years some have despaired of reaching the
masses except by using certain unseemly and sensational methods. Our
work is an emphatic protest against this practice, and a standing
disproof of its necessity.

"Finally, the building for which we plead will cost £20,000, a small
sum indeed when we consider what amounts many are willing to spend on
their own comforts and pleasures. This sum will not only build a
suitable Hall, but a Frontage in addition, embracing a coffee palace,
and a book saloon for the sale of pure literature. The site has
already been paid for."

A beautiful letter was written by Keith-Falconer to a private friend
during this period of his friendship with Mr. Charrington. It was
written from the house at Stepney Green, to which I have already
referred in an earlier part of the book. Nothing could more adequately
show the young man's personal spirituality, and also his enthusiastic
love for the friend whose own pure and self-sacrificing life was such
an example to his own.

                                                 "Stepney Green.

     "It is overwhelming to think of the vastness of the
     harvest-field, when compared with the indolence,
     indifference and unwillingness on the part of the most
     so-called Christians, to become, even in a moderate degree,
     labourers in the same. I take the rebuke to myself.... To
     enjoy the blessings and happiness God gives, and never to
     stretch out a helping hand to the poor and wicked, is a most
     horrible thing. When we come to die, it will be awful for
     us, if we have to look back on a life spent purely on self,
     but--believe me--if we are to spend our lives otherwise, we
     must make up our minds to be thought 'odd' and 'eccentric'
     and 'unsocial' and to be sneered at and avoided.

     "For instance, how 'odd' and 'unsocial' of my heroic friend
     (Mr. Charrington) to live in this dirty, smoky East End all
     the year round, and instead of dining out with his friends
     and relations, to go night after night to minister to the
     poor and wretched!... But I like to live with him and to
     watch the workings of the mighty hand of God and to catch a
     spark of the fire of zeal which burns within him, in order
     that I may be moved to greater willingness and earnestness
     in the noblest cause which can occupy the thoughts of a man.
     This is immeasurably better than spending my afternoons in
     calling on people, my evenings in dinners and balls, and my
     mornings in bed.... The usual centre is Self, the proper
     centre is God. If, therefore, one lives for God, one is out
     of centre or eccentric, with regard to the people who do
     not."

In 1884 Mr. Keith-Falconer was married at Trinity Church, Cannes, to
Miss Gwendoline Bevan, daughter of Mr. R. C. L. Bevan, of Trent Park,
Hertfordshire. Mr. Charrington was present upon this occasion, and
acted as "best man" to his friend.

In 1885, together with his young wife, he sailed for Aden, resolving
to take up missionary work there, being peculiarly fitted for it owing
to his intimate acquaintance with Oriental languages. I am not going
to expatiate upon his life and work there. I am writing the biography
of his friend. In 1887 he passed away, and was reverently laid to rest
in the wild and dreary cemetery there, far from home and those he
loved, yet among those for whom he laboured, and for whom he counted
no loss too great, if only he might win them for Christ.

I may quote, perhaps, those words from _The Pilgrim's Progress_, which
describe the death of Valiant-for-Truth.

"'My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and
my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I
carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought His battles,
Who will now be my Rewarder.'... So he passed over, and all the
trumpets sounded for him on the other side."

The loss to the Tower Hamlets Mission was incalculable, and it is
pathetically expressed on a certain page of _The Record_, Mr.
Charrington's official organ.

Mr. Edwin H. Kerwin wrote:--

     "Another faithful soldier of Jesus Christ has fallen at his
     post--the post of danger and honour. Those of us who knew
     him are weighed down with sorrow to think we shall hear his
     voice no more. We loved him from the first time we ever saw
     him. My thoughts go back to the year 1873, when, as a young
     man of seventeen, his beloved father, the late Earl of
     Kintore, brought his son and interested him in Mr.
     Charrington's work. From that date until the day of his
     death he was devoted to the Tower Hamlets Mission. Amid his
     arduous studies at Cambridge he delighted to break away from
     them for a day, and run up to Mile End. In a letter before
     me, dated July 1880, and written to me while his beloved
     father was lying dead, he says, 'It is pleasant to me to
     reflect that it was my father who first introduced me to
     Charrington and his work, and that he so cordially supported
     the Mission. I hope that his sudden departure may be the
     means of blessing to the careless, perhaps to some who heard
     him speak in the Assembly Hall.' How strange that the son
     should also be struck down suddenly! May the prayer he
     breathed at his father's death become a reality in his own
     sudden departure. In another letter, written to me in 1879,
     in answer to one I had addressed to him respecting some
     young men who had been impressed with an address he had
     given at Mile End, he said: 'I was so thankful about those
     five young men. The best of this work is that so few of the
     conversions are directly traceable to any particular person;
     we all help.'

     "About ten years ago he was staying at Mr. Charrington's
     residence. I picked up his Bible, and found written upon the
     fly-leaf this motto--

    'Henceforth, Lord, I wish to be
    Wholly given up to Thee,
    That in life and walk I may
    Glorify Thee day by day.'

     "Surely those who were acquainted with him can testify that
     he carried this out!

     "His brilliant achievements at the University of Cambridge,
     his linguistic proficiency, together with his exceptional
     abilities, were all devoted to the cause of Christ. He
     worked hard in the interests of purity and temperance. He
     often spent nights with Mr. Charrington in watching the
     music halls. I shall never forget the night when Mr.
     Charrington was taken off by the police, falsely accused of
     disturbance outside Lusby's Music Hall. I was not there,
     but, hearing of the incident, I went off to the police
     station, and, on nearing it, saw a large crowd. In the dark
     I could see one tall man standing in the centre, head and
     shoulders above every one else, and perfectly white; this
     was Falconer, who had been covered with flour by the
     frequenters of the music hall. He gave evidence on this
     occasion, and it is within the recollection of many that he
     was entered to run on this very day in the University
     Champion Bicycle Race; also the stir he made in the sporting
     world by telegraphing to the course--he was staying with Mr.
     Charrington on Stepney Green at the time, and Mr.
     Charrington suggested it--the following words: 'The race is
     safe with Dodds. I have made up my mind not to run, having
     started in the race spoken of in Hebrews, chap, xii, verses
     1, 2.'

     "He also gave evidence at Clerkenwell Sessions against the
     character of Lusby's Music Hall. While at Cambridge he
     interested himself in evangelistic work, and he was mainly
     instrumental in converting the Theatre into a Mission.
     Through his efforts the building was purchased, and ever
     since the work has been carried on with great success. It is
     with melancholy interest that I turn to the notes of the
     conference on the evangelisation of the world held at the
     Great Assembly Hall in May last year, and read his grand
     speech on the work he and his devoted young wife had
     commenced in Aden; and when I peruse his still grander
     oration given before the Free Church Assembly in Scotland in
     the same month, it impresses upon me how great is his loss
     to the Church of God. He wound up that memorable speech with
     an appeal which it will be well for all to take heed to. He
     said: 'There must be some who, having the cause of Christ at
     heart, have ample independent means, and are not fettered by
     genuine home ties. Perhaps you are content with giving
     annual subscriptions and occasional donations and taking a
     weekly class? Why not give yourselves--money, time, and
     all--to the foreign field? Ought you not to consider
     seriously what your duty is? The heathen are in darkness and
     we are asleep. By subscribing money, sitting on committees,
     speaking at meetings, and praying for missions, you think
     you are doing the most you can to spread the Gospel abroad.
     Not so. By going yourself you will produce a tenfold more
     powerful effect. You have wealth snugly invested in the
     Funds; you are strong and healthy; you are at liberty to
     live where you like, and occupy yourself as you like. While
     vast continents are shrouded in almost utter darkness, and
     hundreds of millions suffer the horrors of heathenism of
     Islam, the burden of proof lies upon you to show that the
     circumstances in which God has placed you were meant by Him
     to keep you out of the mission field.' What force, what
     irresistible urgency, does his death give to this solemn
     appeal for dedication to the service of the kingdom of
     Christ!

     "He was a proficient phonographic shorthand writer. He was a
     firm friend of the tonic sol-fa system, and took the
     matriculation certificate. He provided a scholarship that
     bears his name at the Tonic Sol-Fa College. His work on
     earth has ceased; he has now gone to his reward. Though we
     feel that we can ill spare him, yet we will not grudge him
     the well-earned repose he is now enjoying. He rests from his
     labours, and his works do follow him. He is a witness still
     that the spirit of heroism and martyrdom is not extinct, and
     while men who love their lives lose them, a man who gives
     his life for the Lord's sake, 'keeps it to life eternal.'

     "The great Assembly Hall was crowded to its utmost extent
     the Sunday after the news reached England of the death of
     the Hon. Ion Keith-Falconer. The announcements of a funeral
     service brought friends from all parts.

     "The platform was tastefully decorated in crape, and in the
     centre facing the congregation, was displayed Mr. E.
     Clifford's life-like portrait of the deceased gentleman,
     which he had kindly lent for the occasion. Many of the late
     Mr. Falconer's personal friends were present on the
     platform, including his brother-in-law, Mr. Granville Smith,
     Mr. F. N. Charrington, Hon. Superintendent of the Mission,
     Mr. E. H. Kerwin, Secretary, Mr. C. H. Warry, and others.
     Mr. W. R. Lane was the preacher. Upon the occupants of the
     platform taking their places, and in response to the
     invitation of Mr. F. N. Charrington, the organist of the
     hall, Mr. Day Winter, played the Dead March in _Saul_, the
     audience rising and remaining standing until its conclusion.
     A special service of hymns was used upon the occasion, and
     distributed to the congregation upon entering the building.
     They were taken in the order named.

    'Let saints on earth in concert sing,
      With those whose work is done;
    For all the servants of our King,
      In heaven and earth are one.'

     "'Home at last, thy labour done,' 'The Son of God goes forth
     to war,' and 'For ever with the Lord.'

     "During the evening the choir also sang McGranahan's anthem,
     'I am the Resurrection and the Life.' Mr. F. N. Charrington,
     who presided, made many touching references to the deceased
     gentleman, and his well-known sympathy with the work carried
     on by the Tower Hamlets Mission, notably his donation of
     £2000 towards the building fund of the hall in which they
     were then meeting. He also made references to his brilliant
     achievements at the University of Cambridge, his linguistic
     proficiency, etc. Yet in spite of the undoubted future which
     was in store for him in England, had he (Mr. Falconer)
     devoted his exceptional abilities to his own land, fired
     with missionary zeal, and at the bidding of the voice of
     God, he devoted his all to His cause, and proceeded to
     sacrifice his future prospects to the welfare of his
     brethren in lands beyond the sea. To this noble
     self-abnegation had he devoted his life, and as truly as any
     of old was he a martyr to his faith, for it was in the
     discharge of his self-imposed duties as a missionary that
     he contracted the fever which terminated a life that was all
     but limitless in its possibilities.

     "'He rests from his labours, and his works do follow him.'
     Although inscrutable were God's ways, yet they could bow to
     His ruling and say, 'Thy will be done.' He had but gone
     before. Mr. G. H. Warry led the congregation again in
     prayer, and after the singing of one of the hymns mentioned
     above, Mr. E. H. Kerwin spoke, and then read the appropriate
     Scripture to be found in 1 Corinthians, chap. xv, commencing
     at the 26th verse. Mr. W. Lane followed with a very earnest
     and solemn address."

Of Mr. Charrington's private loss what can I say here? I think those
who have followed me thus far will realise what a crushing blow it
was. I am loth to intrude upon the sanctities of private grief: I can
only say that from my conversations with the surviving member of that
happy, Christian brotherhood, I know that the loss is, even to-day,
after so many years, as fresh and keen as ever.

And I know that not one of the least of my friend's hopes and
anticipations is that of once more meeting in Heaven the man he loved
so well on earth.

CHAPTER V

THE BATTLE OF THE MUSIC HALLS

There was a time when the name "Charrington" was, for quite a
considerable period, a household word in England.

The reason for this was not because the public had suddenly awakened
to the fact that among them was a man who had given up all that makes
life dear to ordinary people, who lived a remote and buried life in
the far East End, denying himself everything, and working for Christ
among folk as sordid and savage as those to be found in any distant
land, but because this same "Charrington" had presumed--actually
presumed!--to interfere with the immoral pleasures of London.

I have called this chapter THE BATTLE OF THE MUSIC HALLS, and well, I
think, does the title epitomise the story I have to tell.

It is a dual story. It shows Frederick Charrington himself going into
the gravest personal danger, and fighting the most tremendous of
fights with a few devoted adherents, and it also tells of efforts made
in the newly-constituted forum which was to rule the destinies of
London--the London County Council.

I will begin with the "Battle of the Music Halls" proper.

In connection with Mr. Charrington's campaign against the music-halls
of the East End, and one in particular, one of the most sensational
law cases upon record held the public mind for a considerable time.

I shall shortly quote from those legal proceedings, shall draw upon a
store of drama, unequalled in the history of Evangelism.

And, as an introduction, I shall tell certain facts of the inner
history of this affair which have never yet been published, and which
I have wrung from Mr. Charrington, with his reluctant consent to use
them.

Let me begin, then.

Mr. Charrington's attention was first called to the question of music
halls by something that a poor man, to whom he was speaking one day,
said to him.

This poor fellow was in great distress of mind, and in the course of
the conversation, he was asked if he was a married man.

His reply was, "No; those reptiles at ---- ruined my wife."

The man mentioned the name of a certain music hall, and his
earnestness of demeanour, his profound sorrow, gave Mr. Charrington
food for thought. He had known, of course, that the music halls of
those days were centres of evil. Now he came to think that the evil
might be even greater than he had previously imagined.

It must be remembered that I am writing of a time quite remote from
the present.

I know little of the music halls of to-day, though once or twice I
have watched a spectacle of shifting colour and extraordinary grace,
accompanied by lovely music, at a certain palace of amusement in the
West End.

I know nothing more than this--personally--but, from inquiries, I am
well aware that the music halls of to-day are very much improved for
the better. And, as I read in my daily paper that His Majesty the
King, accompanied by his court, has witnessed a performance at the
chief music hall of London, it seems obvious that these places are
nothing like what they used to be. So, in reading of this Homeric
contest made by Frederick Charrington, you must transport yourselves
into the past, and realise that I am speaking of old days.

While Mr. Charrington's attention was being drawn to the music halls
of the East End--by the incident previously referred to--an American
friend of his came into his house one evening, and said, in great
agitation, "I have just seen a horrible thing. I was passing the door
of a music hall when a man, with a girl upon his arm, was just
entering the gates. I saw a woman, evidently his wife--for she had a
wedding ring on her finger, and recognised him at once--rush up to
this man and cry out, 'Oh, John, whom have you got there?' The man
hesitated for a moment, and as he did so, the girl left his arm and
rushed inside the place.

"The man turned his head, looked at his wife with an evil expression,
and then hurried in after his companion. The poor wife naturally
attempted to follow them both, but the man in uniform at the door
stretched out both his arms and stopped her, saying, 'Oh, no, we don't
want you in here.'"

This new incident stirred Mr. Charrington's indignation afresh, and he
thought, "If this is a fair sample, these places ought to be called
music _hells_ instead of music halls."

He determined to see for himself whether this was an isolated case or
not. Further investigations proved that it was not so, as I shall
shortly show.

He soon found out what the character of these places really was, but,
believing that most people were ignorant of their horrible character,
he began active steps immediately.

The first thing he did was to see what powers the law could enforce in
cases of the kind. He found that the law _was_ quite strong enough to
deal with them, as a clause existed to the effect that _any person
could be dealt with who harboured prostitutes_; for the purpose of
prostitution or not.

This, Mr. Charrington thought, was quite enough, and after he had done
all he could, by personal influence, to deter respectable people from
going to a certain notorious East End hall, in due course he opposed
the license at the Quarter Sessions at Clerkenwell.

This, however, had but little result. Although in one year he actually
proved by witnesses prostitution to be going on in three parts of the
premises of the hall in question. To his horror and amazement, the
magistrates (with a few noble exceptions) allowed the license to
continue, although every minister of religion in East London,
including the Bishop of Bedford, and 1800 respectable inhabitants,
signed the protest against the house as "the nightly resort of
prostitutes."

Mr. Charrington's worst fears as to the evil results of music halls
were one morning more than confirmed by reading in the _Daily News_--

"On Saturday morning a young medical student named R---- shot himself
with a revolver while at a house in Brompton Crescent, Fulham Road,
where he had passed the night. It appears that he met a female outside
the Pavilion Music Hall on Friday night, and accompanied her to her
home. In the morning, during her absence to get some tea for him, the
report of firearms was heard. Police constable S----, of the B.
Division, was called in, and found the deceased lying on the bed,
bleeding from the forehead, with a six-chambered revolver fully loaded
under his leg, with the exception of one which had recently been
discharged. Dr. R---- saw the man soon afterwards and found life
extinct. A letter was found upon the deceased addressed to his mother
in Mildmay Park, Islington. The deceased was about twenty years of
age, and was a pupil to Dr. L----, of Kensington."

Now the mother of this unhappy young man had been previously asked to
assist him financially in his campaign against the music halls. She
was the only person Mr. Charrington _had_ ever asked to help him. She
was a very wealthy woman, but nevertheless she refused utterly!

Mr. Charrington's mind was made up. A definite campaign was determined
on, and the determination resulted in a battle which, for its sheer
fearlessness, audacity, and far-reaching consequences, is probably
unexampled in the chronicles of missionary effort in England.

In order that the personal testimony of Mr. Charrington may be
supplemented by public words, I quote what _Punch_ said in one of its
issues at that period.

     "It is, however, in the disgraceful scenes enacted in the
     drinking-bars and saloons attached to these halls that the
     greatest evils exist--evils which cannot fail of exercising
     a fatal influence upon the frequenters of these places, of
     both sexes, who, in the first instance, go to hear a song,
     but become initiated in vice and immorality, rendered more
     easy and dangerous by the seductive influences by which they
     are surrounded. The more respectable the hall, the more
     prominent is this feature. These saloons are filled by men
     about town of all ages and conditions, with and without
     characters. There may be seen the young and inexperienced
     clerk, the heartless skittle-sharp and blackleg, the
     patrician _roué_ and the plebeian fancy-man. This mixed
     crowd of folly and vice keep up a continued chattering,
     composed of obscene and vulgar repartees, to the great
     annoyance of the decent tradesman or working man who,
     accompanied by his wife or sweetheart, may have visited the
     hall with the delusive hope of hearing some good singing,
     but whose ears are thus polluted with vulgarity and slang.
     It is this sort of thing that has driven, and is driving,
     the respectable portion of society from these halls; and it
     is to provide attraction for the more spicy patrons that
     comic ladies and other sensation performances have been
     introduced. In these saloons the scenes that used to be
     enacted in the lobbies and saloons of theatres are
     reproduced, even in a worse and more offensive form."

The first definite step that Mr. Charrington took was to write a
tract, which he caused to be disseminated very largely.

I give extracts from it here. It is not a great literary effort by any
means--Frederick Charrington's life has been far too strenuous for any
dilettante toying with words. But it is, at any rate, a direct and
forcible appeal, written in language which those for whose ears it was
destined were well able to understand.

There was a picture in this tract--which I have before me as I write.
The art of reproduction in those days was in its infancy. The thing is
a rude wood-cut, of what we should think to-day appalling crudity. And
yet, the picture had its effect, no less than the strong words which
accompanied it.

I see, in faded ink, a young man, whose state of indecision is well
shown by the almost impossible puerility of his face. On one side of
him there is a very concrete devil, as horned and horrible as those
creations of the monkish mind in the middle ages which adorned--or
defaced--the pages of missals. The devil is offering this young man
the sinful pleasures of the world--the sinful pleasures being shown in
a few crude symbols--a large tankard, dice, and cards!

Upon the other side is an Angel of light, pointing to the Crown of
Life, and to that happiness which "hath the promise of the life that
now is, as well as that which is to come."

In our time such a thing would be laughed at. In those days it was
doubtless as good as many other efforts of its kind. Be that as it
may, who shall laugh or sneer at an earnest and well-meant effort to
engage the thoughts of the passer-by?

Engage the thoughts of the passer-by it certainly did--and the
accompanying words, from which I make extracts, were read all over
the East End of the Metropolis.

     "This is a picture of you, reader. The devil is striving on
     one side to lead you down to Hell, by the alluring
     temptations of sinful indulgence. The Holy Spirit on the
     other side is striving with your heart and conscience to
     lead you up to Heaven; and God, by His word, is now saying,
     'Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.' Nothing will avail
     you but an entire change of heart, or conversion. Our Lord
     says to you, 'Except a man be born again, he cannot see the
     kingdom of God' (John iii. 3); and again in verse five he
     says, 'Ye cannot enter into the Kingdom of God.' You can go
     to the theatre or music hall, and there your eyes can gaze
     upon the indecent dance, and there you can hear the filthy
     song, but unless you are born again, you can never see the
     glories of Heaven, and you will never hear the song of the
     redeemed. You may enter the swinging doors of the
     public-house, and take the intoxicating cup as you stand in
     the way of sinners; you may enter that house (which is the
     way to Hell, leading down to the chambers of death), but
     unless you are born again, you will never enter through the
     pearly gates of the city, and you will never meet with loved
     ones gone before. In conclusion, 'the wages of sin is death;
     but the gift of God is Eternal Life through Jesus Christ our
     Lord.' God grant that you may accept the gift instead of
     earning the wages; 'that as ye have yielded your members
     servants unto uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity;
     even so now yield your members servants unto holiness.'

     "A time is coming when God will say, 'He which is filthy,
     let him be filthy still; and he that is holy, let him be
     holy still,' but 'Now is the accepted time, now is the day
     of salvation.'

     "'Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God'
     (Romans x. 17), therefore come and hear the Gospel at the
     great Assembly Hall, Mile End Road, open every evening."

Thus the tract, which already began to create considerable interest,
and to agitate the neighbourhood in no small way.

Like a good general, Frederick Charrington followed up one blow with
another. He collected all his forces, and night after night outside
Lusby's Music Hall he was found distributing tracts, with his friend
Keith-Falconer and other helpers.

He stood at the very door of this music hall, and took every possible
opportunity of entering into conversation with such people as
responded to his tentative advances. Many and many a man and woman,
who were going to this place with nothing but sensual and material
thoughts, were given pause by the proffer of a tract, or, more often
still, by a few earnest words from the young evangelist and his
helpers.

The scenes at this time--outside the flaring front of the music
hall--were extraordinary. I do not propose to enter into many details,
simply because they will be well seen in the legal evidence which is
to follow. It is sufficient to say that the proprietors of the hall
brought an action against Mr. Charrington, and the records of that
_cause célèbre_ tell their own story.

But there are certain incidents, as I said in an earlier part of this
chapter, which have never before been made public, and which I had
some difficulty in obtaining my friend's permission to record.

This Lusby's Music Hall was, without doubt, a sink of iniquity. It was
notorious in the locality, but it also spread its evil tentacles
westwards. The well-to-do, foolish, and drunken young "bloods" of the
period--I believe "masher" was their designation at the time--used to
drive down in cabs from Piccadilly and haunt Lusby's in pursuit of the
girls of the East End. It was a new sensation. It provided an
evening's amusement quite out of the common.

One night during Mr. Charrington's campaign, five young men arrived
from the West End in evening dress. As they were entering the music
hall, Mr. Charrington and his friends spoke to them in no uncertain
way. I have been told--and I feel quite sure--that the remonstrances
addressed to them were made in the most quiet, gentlemanly, and
unobtrusive manner. At any rate, these people were horribly enraged.
There are two things you must not do if you wish to be popular with
worldly men. You must not wound any man's vanity, and you must not
interfere with his guilty pleasures.

Charrington and Ion Keith-Falconer, both of them men of breeding and
position themselves, hit these young aristocrats from Piccadilly too
hard. A remonstrance from some earnest but illiterate tub-thumper
might have been passed by with a light laugh, or at most a sneer. In
this case an evil and malignant anger was aroused. These young men
were again accosted, and their resentment was thereby heightened to
fever heat.

With faces flushed with drink, their eyes blazing with anger, they
advanced to the young evangelist, loudly expressing their
determination to "do for him."

Then occurred, in an instant, one of the most pathetic and dramatic
things of which I have ever heard.

Several wretched girls, who had been with these young men, plying
their dreadful trade and hoping to reap a richer reward than usual,
turned round upon their patrons.

They made a ring round Frederick Charrington, snarling like tigresses,
and using--so Mr. Charrington has told me--the most appalling and
awful language it is possible to conceive.

They told the young men from the West End that they would tear them to
pieces rather than that they should touch a single hair of Mr.
Charrington's head.

It all occurred out in the public street, and only a Zola could
describe the occurrence as it really happened. What I myself have
heard from Mr. Charrington is horrible enough. These poor women must
indeed at that moment have been inspired by something beyond their
knowledge or understanding.

There is good in all of us. The latent good in these poor creatures
was stirred into activity, and they defended the man whom they
believed was doing his best to spoil their business and ruin their
trade, with the ferocity of wolves, and the shrieking courage of the
hyena at bay.

In the result, the young aristocrats were so taken aback that they
grew pallid with shame and fear. All thoughts of aggression left them,
and they simply turned tail and fled away down the flaring
thoroughfare of the Mile End Road.

They went back to their own place and concocted a scheme together--a
scheme which was to result in the "outing" of Frederick Charrington.

They engaged several low-class pugilists, sent them down to Lusby's
Music Hall in cabs, with the direction to thrash Charrington within an
inch of his life. They were to do him all possible bodily harm which
stopped short of actually killing him, and were each promised a five
pound note for the work.

These hired bullies went into the music hall and stood at the door.
They drank sufficiently to loosen their tongues, and the manager of
the hall heard, through one of his satellites, what was on foot. The
manager, a shrewd business man, at once saw that, if these fellows
were allowed to carry out their dastardly plan, such an uprising and
stir of public opinion would take place, that the hall would be swept
out of existence. He deputed an emissary to treat these prize-fighters
with champagne. This was done with such success that they became
helpless for any evil purpose, and were put into cabs and sent back
home.

Mr. Charrington knew nothing of this organised attempt until some time
afterwards.

All these incidents made it imperative for the proprietors of the
music hall to take some action if they were to keep the place open.

The armies of Christ were at their very doors, they must needs defend
their stronghold by every means in their power.

In the High Court of Justice, Chancery Division, on February 12,
1885, before Mr. Justice Chitty, the case of CROWDER _versus_
CHARRINGTON was called.

"Mr. Ince, Q.C., and Mr. Francis Turner, instructed by Messrs.
Peckham, Maitland and Peckham, appeared for the plaintiffs, and Mr.
Romer, Q.C., with whom was Mr. Charles Mitchell, instructed by Messrs.
Shaen, Roscoe, Henderson and Co., appeared for the defendant.

"This action was brought by Messrs. Crowder and Payne, the owners of
Lusby's Tavern and Music Hall, in the Mile End Road, to restrain the
defendant, Mr. Charrington, who is carrying on a Mission Hall about a
hundred yards from plaintiffs' premises, from annoying them in their
business, and from making representations, by the distribution of
tracts or otherwise, to the plaintiffs' injury."

It is impossible to give more than certain extracts from these
celebrated proceedings, which are even now not forgotten. I must at
least print the testimony of two girls, who had been rescued by Mr.
Charrington from the dreadful life that they were leading. They were
rescued by him and placed in good situations. Their past life, with
all its shame and horror, seemed quite obliterated. No one, in their
new surroundings, had the slightest idea of what they had been. But
when Mr. Charrington was engaged in the lawsuit, both these girls came
forward and voluntarily gave testimony--surely one of the noblest
instances of gratitude, that rarest of qualities, upon record!

One girl deposed as follows--

"I am nearly twenty-one years of age. I remember being taken to the
hall one night in 1880. A young man took me. I had drink given me at
the bar of a public house. I had more than was good for me. The young
man then took me away and seduced me. After that I attended the hall
habitually.

"Sometimes I used to go by myself, and sometimes with other girls. I
used to go there for the purpose of prostitution.

"A great many other girls used to go there as well for the same
purpose. I have often met young men there, and taken them to houses of
ill-fame. I sometimes have returned to the hall. Sometimes I had to
pay for re-admission, but not always.

"Prostitutes were in the habit of drinking at the bars; they had been
in the habit of being treated at the bar. They frequently used to be
there in considerable numbers, and often got tipsy.

"The men at the hall door never objected to my going into it, and I
never saw other prostitutes objected to. I have now left that life. In
1881 I went into a home maintained by Lady ----. I am now in domestic
service and am leading a virtuous life.

"I used to attend the hall every night. I used to get my living by
attending the hall. I never walked the streets. I had been living a
modest life up to then. I have often been intoxicated in the music
hall itself. I used as a rule to hang about the bars."

The other young woman who had been rescued, also came forward and bore
her testimony--

She said she first went to ---- on Christmas Eve, 1880, with a young
man, and had too much to drink at the bar there, was taken away to a
house and seduced. She afterwards led an immoral life, and frequented
the music hall for the purposes of prostitution. Going in
unaccompanied by anybody, she used to get men in the hall to go home
with her. Many other girls attended it in the same way. She was
treated there by men. On one occasion was present in a box in the
music hall when an act of prostitution was committed, and knew another
girl who had done the same thing. After taking men out of the hall she
would go back again the same evening, and was on these occasions
readmitted without payment. Other prostitutes were allowed to do the
same. They were passed in by the man in uniform at the gate. Was never
refused admission to the hall, and did not know of other prostitutes
being stopped. Mentioned as attending the place, the keeper of the
brothel to which she used to take men. She led that life for a
twelvemonth, constantly attending at the music hall, except for about
two months. Eventually she was persuaded by Mr. Charrington to enter a
home. She had since lived a moral life, and was now a domestic
servant.

[Illustration: CHARRINGTON'S MORAL MICROSCOPE

A cartoon during the Music Hall Campaign

                                                  [_To face p. 118._]

Henry Ward Beecher describes the bitter experience of such an one, in
the following words--

"That one who gazed out at the window, calling for her mother and
weeping, was right tenderly and purely bred. She has been baptised
twice--once to God and once to the Devil. She sought this place in the
very vestments of God's House. 'Call not on thy mother! she is a saint
in Heaven, and cannot hear thee.' Yet, all night long she dreams of
home and childhood, and wakes to sigh and weep; and between her
sobs she cries, 'Mother! Mother!'"

And well may he exclaim--

"Oh, Prince of torment! if thou hast transforming power, give some
relief to this once innocent child, whom another has corrupted! Let
thy deepest damnation seize him who brought her hither! Let his
coronation be upon the very mount of torment, and the rain of fiery
hail be his salutation! He shall be crowned by thorns poisoned and
anguish-bearing; and every woe beat upon him, and every wave of hell
roll over the first risings of baffled hope. Thy guilty thoughts and
guilty deeds shall flit after thee with bows which never break, and
quivers for ever emptying but never exhausted. If Satan hath one dart
more poisoned than another; if God hath one bolt more transfixing and
blasting than another; if there be one hideous spirit more unrelenting
than others; they shall be thine, most execrable wretch, 'who led her
to forsake the guide of her youth, and to abandon the covenant of her
God.'"

I think I cannot do better now than give my readers the evidence Mr.
Charrington gave before Mr. Justice Chitty during the case.

"I am the Hon. Superintendent of the Tower Hamlets Mission, Mile End
Road. The Mission-house is about twenty or thirty houses off the music
hall. I am a guardian of the poor, and also a vestryman. I have been
Hon. Superintendent since the year 1869, and have devoted the whole of
that time to missionary work in the East End. I made considerable
sacrifices on leaving the brewery, in order to devote myself to the
work of the Mission. Since 1880 I have, amongst other things,
distributed tracts, etc., and endeavoured to persuade people not to go
to the music halls, and have also endeavoured to rescue prostitutes
from their evil courses. My efforts have not been solely confined to
the music halls. The three tracts produced were amongst others I have
given away. My ground for persuading people not to go to the music
hall was because I found it was the nightly resort of prostitutes. I
have watched the hall from the year 1880 up to the time of the fire,
and also to a certain extent since the fire. I used to go down night
after night as a rule, from about eleven o'clock till nearly one
o'clock in the morning. I occasionally went earlier in the evening
when the people were going into the hall. I used especially to speak
to and remonstrate with prostitutes who used to go in and out of the
house. I used to use an expression when I first went there, that the
place literally swarmed with prostitutes. Numbers of prostitutes went
into the hall unattended by men. I have seen brothel-keepers going
night after night into the house with their women with them. I may
mention especially a woman named Becky Hart. I have seen her with two
and three poor young girls. She was a most notorious brothel-keeper,
living in the Canal Road, Mile End Road. Another well-known
brothel-keeper with her girls was also there nightly. She was known by
the name of Fraser; no one could mistake her, she being excessively
stout. There were also two or three other brothel-keepers, whom I knew
very well by sight, who used to go to the hall regularly, and also
take their girls with them. Two of these brothel-keepers, a man and
his wife, kept a house in Cleveland Street, the very next turning to
the music hall. They used to go backwards and forwards continually
during the evening, from the brothel in Cleveland Street. This
brothel-keeper was thrown out of the hall one night, very drunk, and I
caught him in my arms to prevent him from falling on the pavement. He
then said to me, 'It's a great shame to treat me in this way, for I
bring my girls here constantly.' I used to see him and his girls going
into the hall night after night, and the girls leaving it after with
men. I persuaded the man and his wife to give up the brothel. I have
been requested by the man to visit one of the girls when she was
dying. I have seen them night after night go out from the music hall
with customers, sometimes with respectable-looking, well-dressed men,
apparently from the West End of London, the girls having previously
gone into the hall with their keepers. I have seen them go to the cabs
that usually stand in a rank outside the hall. I have heard them tell
the cabmen to drive to well-known brothel-houses. I have sent
messengers to follow them to the houses for my own satisfaction,
because I wanted to know positively if they did drive to the brothels.
I have seen a girl do this kind of thing twice during a night. I have
seen that on more than one occasion. I have seen them get into cabs; I
have heard the cabmen ask them where to drive to. I have said to the
cabmen, 'You know where you are going to drive them to. You know
perfectly well, cabman, the brothel to which they are attached. You
live by these wretched women's trade.' I have seen numbers of women
come out of the halls drunk. I have seen them when they have been
drunk behaving in a most disgraceful way, and using the foulest
language. On one occasion I saw three prostitutes take away with them
from the hall three seafaring men, apparently captains or mates of
vessels. They tried to get into a four-wheeled cab--all six of them.
While they were getting into the cab I remonstrated with them, and
told them they were ruining themselves, body and soul, going with such
women to such places. I made use of the words, 'her house is the way
to Hell, going down to the chambers of death.' One of the three men
said, 'I think I will be out of this.' Another one said, 'It is
getting rather hot for us.' They seemed to agree that what I said was
true, and the result was that they got out of the cab. The three
women, when the men walked away, turned round on one another, and
fought together on the pavement, in front of the hall. I went into the
midst of them, separated them, and persuaded them to leave off
fighting. They were using all the time most filthy language, and
causing a crowd to assemble. On another occasion I saw four
prostitutes bringing down from the hall a particularly gentlemanly-looking
young man, not only evidently a gentleman, but a well-bred one. He
undoubtedly belonged to a good family in the West End. He was a little
drunk. Those four prostitutes were half pulling and half dragging him
from the hall to one of the cabs standing, as usual, in front of the
hall. He struggled and tried to release himself from the grasp of the
women. I appealed to a policeman to rescue the man. I said to the
policeman, 'This is simply highway robbery,' the man being taken off
by force. I tried my best to rescue him when the police declined to
interfere. There were plenty of prostitutes' bullies about the hall.
These bullies used to frequent the hall nightly. They were
unfortunately too strong for me, and the result was that the women
took the young man off with them in a cab. I could multiply these
instances, which were constantly occurring night after night. I have
seen brothel-keepers come out with gentlemen, they having gone in
alone. I have seen them standing on a pavement persuading men to go
home with girls, and at the same time I have been persuading them not
to do so. On one occasion a seafaring man, apparently a captain or
mate of a vessel, came out of the hall so very drunk that he was
incapable of taking care of himself. Two prostitutes came out with him
partly holding him up and partly dragging him along. They got him
half-way across the pavement towards the cabs in front of the hall.
The cabmen, I found, as a rule, were only too anxious to help the
prostitutes and their customers. The cabman, in this instance, came
and helped the prostitutes, partly by pushing and partly by
persuasion, to get the man near the cab. I managed to stop him just
before he got to the cab, and endeavoured to persuade him not to go
with the women. The cabman and the women tried in the meantime to
persuade the man to go with them, the man hesitating. I then appealed
to a policeman who was standing near apparently on duty, to interfere.
I called his attention to the fact that the man was helplessly drunk,
wearing a gold chain, and no doubt having money in his pocket. I said
to the policeman, 'This is simply highway robbery.' The policeman
refused to interfere at all, and the result was that the two women,
aided by the cabman, took the man away. I said to the women and the
cabman, 'I'll run after you and get two policemen who will do their
duty.' The cabman drove his horse as fast as he could. I ran after him
till I came up to two policemen on duty a little farther up the road.
I appealed to them, and they did their duty, saying to the women, 'You
get out of this or we'll give you a night's lodging.' They said to the
cabman, 'You had better mind what you are about.' Signals were then
passed between the prostitutes and the cabman, which proved to me that
the cabman was only going round another street to meet them again. I
pursued the cab, followed by bullies from the hall. I outran the
bullies, overtook the cab, and succeeded in getting the man out of the
cab. I have seen prostitutes stopped going into the hall, but that was
not during the first eighteen months or two years I worked outside the
hall. After about that time a number of prostitutes came round me one
night outside the hall and said I was stopping them from getting a
living. I have seen prostitutes turned back from the hall on one
occasion, after about eighteen months from the time I had commenced
working. The prostitutes said to me, 'It is through you we are being
turned out of the hall, and are prevented from getting our living in
consequence, and you know we are getting our living there.' Great
disorder arose outside the hall when prostitutes came out drunk; upon
several occasions disorder took place. On one particular occasion a
prostitute came out drunk, marched up and down in front of the house,
shouting and causing a great disturbance. She said, 'It is by the
likes of us that Crowder and Payne get their living.' After the time I
have spoken of the prostitutes seemed to go in and out of the hall as
they liked. I used to take a number of tracts with me when I went
outside the hall. I used to offer them to people going in and out of
the hall and to passers-by on the pavement. If people refused to take
the tract offered I allowed them to pass on. Sometimes, however, they
would enter into conversation with me. I then used to draw them aside
to the waste ground between the road and the pavement. My doing this
did not cause a disturbance nor a mob to assemble. There were
occasions, however, on which disturbances took place; one occasion
when flour was thrown over me by some person from the direction of the
hall; on another occasion human filth was thrown on me from an upper
window of the hall. I have been assaulted on a great many occasions by
roughs from the music hall, prostitutes' bullies being amongst them.
On one occasion one of the roughs followed me and assaulted me. I gave
him into custody and he was sentenced to three weeks' imprisonment.
That was in June, 1883. I did not know the man who assaulted me. These
assaults caused mobs to assemble. I remember in October, 1883, I was
assaulted and driven across the road. The disturbance arose from an
angry mob of roughs coming out of the hall and surrounding me. They
asked me what I meant by trying to ruin the music hall, by taking
away its licence. That, of course, caused a large number of people to
crowd together and look on. I appealed in vain to the police who were
there for protection, but I did not get it. They said, 'If you like it
you can get mobbed.' I walked across the road and asked for protection
at the station house. I did nothing on that occasion to cause the
disturbance. It is not true that whenever I was in front of the hall
disturbances took place. I have been there scores and scores of nights
alone distributing tracts, and no disturbance has taken place.
Disturbances have not been caused by my missionary work. The largest
number of friends who ever accompanied me was eighteen, and out of
that number there would be two or three ladies. All these friends used
to be engaged in the missionary work. The average number accompanying
me was about three or four. Only on about twelve to twenty occasions a
dozen or more persons were with me. In one year I went to the hall
about a hundred nights. I have rescued several of the prostitutes who
used to regularly frequent the hall. It is not true that I and my
friends have ever tried to form a barrier round the door of the hall
to prevent people from going into it. It was in consequence of the
manager of the hall inciting the mob to assault me that a barrier was
formed round the door of the hall. I have never stopped any person
going into the hall by physical force. I have never followed a person
across the threshold of the hall. I have seen officials connected with
the hall incite people to attack me. A door-keeper named Young has
done so. The manager, Mr. Friend, on one particular occasion said to
the mob, 'Halloa, boys, make a row,' but they did not appear to be
very responsive. He has incited the people to attack me on more than
one occasion. He often stood in the entrance hall cursing and swearing
at me, and at times he would address the people from the hall. On one
occasion he said to a man, 'He is a very good advertisement for the
house.' He has used very foul and abusive language towards me. On one
occasion he so lost control of himself that the passers-by stood still
and looked at him in amazement. The wife of the shop-keeper next door
has also used foul language towards me. Mr. Friend's action has caused
great crowds to assemble. I am bound to say I have, as a rule, had
great sympathy from the crowd. Working men would say, 'Go it,
Charrington, and put an end to that den of iniquity.' Mr. Crowder has
assaulted me, and has also incited others to assault me. Mr. Crowder
used to walk beside me pushing me about, and causing a crowd to
assemble. On one occasion he stood on the box-seat of a carriage and
incited a mob against me, and on another he used a most horrible and
foul expression towards me, which I would not like to repeat. On a
Monday night in particular the roughs did rush out of the hall at a
signal from Mr. Crowder, and surrounded me. Crowder then said,
'Police, take him up for obstructing the thoroughfare.' I managed to
get away from the roughs on to the waste ground near the pavement. I
said to the police, 'I am not obstructing the thoroughfare.' Crowder,
however, gave me into custody, and Mr. Friend signed the charge
sheet. I was locked up all night, and the following morning the
magistrate dismissed the charge, observing that an action would lie
against the people who had given me into custody for false
imprisonment. I have been frequently threatened by roughs. From the
waste ground I have addressed people, but not from the pavement. None
of these addresses caused the pavement to be blocked. I have spoken to
a number of girls whom I have known to be prostitutes, urging them to
abandon their course of life. I have never called them by such a name;
I used to call them by their Christian names, because I knew most of
them. I have never called a woman a ---- because she would not take a
tract. I have never said that none but prostitutes went into the hall,
but I said that numbers of them went there. I was here when Mr.
Payne's father gave his evidence. I have said to him, 'You ought to be
ashamed of yourself to bring a young girl to such a place,' or words
to that effect. I meant just the opposite to what Mr. Payne implied,
because I could see that the young girl was respectable. I said
nothing on that occasion that could be construed into an imputation on
the girl's character. I heard Piggott give his evidence. On several
occasions he has threatened me. He seemed to be always at the hall; in
fact, he made it a custom to be there. He told me he supplied
plaintiff with wine and spirits. On one occasion he followed me about
with an oak stick. He shook it in my face and swore he would do for me
if he followed me all over London. He was so excited that I feared
every moment he would drop down in a fit. I have said that the hall
is the way to hell, because there were so many prostitutes attending
it. I have never said that it was hell itself. I deny that anything I
have done has caused a riot or disturbance. M----, H----, and C----are
three girls who gave evidence for me on a motion for injunction: C----
is not now in this country. These girls used to attend the music hall;
they were prostitutes. I rescued them from that life."

Mr. Charrington then left the box, having been in it four hours and a
half.

It is interesting, as throwing a light upon the character of Frederick
Charrington, and the way in which his efforts were viewed by the most
astute legal intellect of that day, to paraphrase the words of the
judge who decided the issue of the case. I simply use those sentences
from the bench which refer to the personal character of Mr.
Charrington.

"The plaintiffs have, for some years past, carried on the business of
a music hall, in the Mile End Road, the music hall being commonly
known as Lusby's Music Hall. The defendant is a gentleman, the son of
a well-known brewer, who has apparently given up a lucrative position
in the brewery for the purpose of devoting himself to missionary work,
and he has established a missionary hall in the neighbourhood.

"The question before me, then, is one of fact. Unquestionably on
several occasions, when the defendant has been present, considerable
disturbance has been caused by the crowds which have assembled. The
evidence is, that these crowds have been brought together, not by the
acts of the defendant, but by the conduct of the plaintiffs
themselves, and their agents, and other persons connected immediately
with the music hall.

"Lusby's Music Hall is, as I have said, situated in the Mile End Road;
and there is a paved footway in front of it of some thirty feet or so
in breadth, and then, between the paved footway and the carriage-road,
there is a piece of ground which some of the witnesses described as
waste ground, and others as roughly paved, of about ten feet or so in
breadth.

"The other witnesses, of whom Mr. Rainsford, who is a clergyman, I
will select as an example, spoke also to the defendant's demeanour.
His demeanour on these occasions is quiet and gentlemanly and
courteous; and one of the plaintiff's witnesses, Mr. Dale, spoke of
him, in cross-examination, in similar terms. Sometimes the person to
whom he offers a tract responds with a sharp word, but on the
evidence, as it stands, there is no ground for saying that the
offering of the tract brings him into any angry or noisy altercation
with any person to whom he is offering it, even those who have
rejected it. He said, about one-third of the times that he has been
there (he has been there on numerous occasions), he has been alone,
and sometimes he goes with two or three friends, who are also engaged
in missionary work, and occasionally, he said as many as from twelve
to eighteen. Mr. Grenfell, whom I have already mentioned, spoke of him
as having a _remarkable ascendancy over the persons whom he met on
this pathway_; sometimes he also was accompanied by ladies.

"In my opinion, as the result of the evidence, all these persons
conducted themselves in an orderly manner. They do not, as was alleged
on the part of the plaintiffs, and particularly by the plaintiff
Crowder, in his evidence, form a 'living barricade,' nor do they
cause, in my opinion, any obstruction to the highway.

"Now, the defendant says that plaintiffs and their servants, and
particularly their manager, have been the real cause of such
disturbances as have arisen. The principal offender is Mr. Friend, the
manager, whose testimony I cannot rely upon. Young stands on a level
with him. Young was the doorkeeper, and was not called as a witness.
Mr. Crowder and Mr. Payne have certainly, each of them, taken some
part in creating the disturbances, though in a less degree than Friend
and Young. Now, the witness Howes, who also gave his testimony,
amongst other witnesses, described what was done by some of these
persons whom I have named. They walk up and down with Mr. Charrington.
I should say that his beat, or his patrol, if I may use such a term,
appears to be a distance of about thirty yards each way from the music
hall; and they not only walk up and down with him, but, according to
Howes, they tread on his heels, and a mob accompanies them as they go.

"Mr. Mason, the shorthand writer, who also gave his evidence
admirably, was a witness to the same effect. As Mr. Kerwin, another
witness for the defendant, said (and I believe him rather than the
plaintiffs' witnesses on this point), if Mr. Charrington had been left
to himself, there would have been no crowd and no disturbance. What
they said is this: I mean, what Friend particularly does, and Young
also; they try to incite the passers-by, and those persons who are
coming from the music hall are irritated. Well, it is said, it is
natural they are irritated; I have no doubt, and it is a fair
observation to make, that they are, to some extent, naturally incited
against him. They look upon this as a crusade against the music hall;
but they have gone far beyond, in my opinion, what they were justified
in doing. They called on the mob to shout, and, on several occasions,
certainly, Friend has tried to incite them, by saying, 'Halloa, boys,
halloa!'

"They assail him with foul and filthy language and they have cursed
him and they have sworn at him; they have assailed him with flour and
with pease-pudding; they have knocked his hat off; they have kicked
him, and the roughs from the hall have certainly made a dead set upon
him. On one occasion he was assaulted, and the man was committed to
prison for three months. They have actually, some of them, thrown
human filth from the windows. On one occasion, particularly, there was
a violent attack made upon him; that is, in October 1883, and I am
satisfied that that was an organised attack. He was driven across the
road, and had to seek refuge in a police section house on the opposite
side. On one occasion they gave him in charge, and the magistrate
dismissed the case, making, I am satisfied on the result of the
evidence, observations which showed that the charge was wholly
groundless. Mr. Piggott, who was a witness for the plaintiffs (and who
denied what I am about to state, but I think he was in error; I think
Mr. Piggott was an excitable man, and a strong partisan), threatened
him with a stick. Besides this, the defendant has been kicked.

"On one occasion, Friend endeavoured to incite the mob in this way.
The witness was delivering some tracts, when Friend called on the
passers-by to assemble, and said, 'Come and see what this man is
calling your wives--nothing but common whores.' The people followed
him to a coffee house window, there were people in the street; he was
then going to read a tract, and found it was not what he wanted.
Friend, said the witness, and I am satisfied that he is right, caused
the crowd. There is some truth indeed in that metaphorical description
that Mr. Charrington in the witness box gave himself; he said he was
no more responsible than a target that is shot at. They have
maltreated his friends, or those who have assisted him. Alston, who
looks a respectable witness, was hit in the face for calling attention
to the man who had knocked in the hat of one of his friends, and the
man Young, the doorkeeper, actually committed the indignity of
spitting in his face. Kerwin, another respectable witness, was butted
in the stomach. Mr. Rainsford, the clergyman, was threatened to have a
knife put into him, and Mr. Grenfell himself was mobbed."

These are hard and definite records.

But you must picture to yourselves Frederick Charrington and Ion
Keith-Falconer accompanied by their friends, night after night--in all
weathers--conducting their campaign amid the jeers and obloquy of the
mob.

Often, from the upper windows of the music hall they were drenched
with flour, red ochre, and even more horrible things than these.

But Frederick Charrington stood there undaunted. His physical courage
was supreme. His moral courage was even greater than that. He was
determined upon the work which God had set him--he did not flinch nor
falter.

What he must have endured I only faintly hint at. It is not my design
to draw a lurid picture of that ascetic abnegation, that utter
throwing away of all that makes life sweet, which was his cheerful,
daily portion.

But I remember an old Cornish woman, whom I met on a wild,
heath-covered moor upon a windy Sunday afternoon, when we were both
leaving a little granite meeting-house, where a rugged, moorland
farmer had spoken of his spiritual experience, and his fresh-cheeked
daughters and their friends had sung hymns to the accompaniment of an
harmonium, hymns which were drowned by the rushing mighty winds.

The old lady, whom I helped over the rough tussocks of grass--she is
dead now, and, I am sure, in Heaven--turned to me, coughing and
spluttering, when we had for a moment some shelter from the wind.

"Ah!" she said, referring to the words of the preacher, "Jesus
belonged to have a brave, bad time! 'Twas a bitter nailing, sir, 'twas
a bitter nailing!"

That is the note--that is the right note in which, I think, we ought
to revere in memory those strenuous days when Frederick Charrington
dared everything for the Lord.

CHAPTER VI

THE FIGHT ON THE LONDON COUNTY COUNCIL

The personal campaign against Lusby's Music Hall, the astounding
details of which are found in the preceding chapter to this, was
complemented by Mr. Charrington's work upon the London County Council,
to which we find him elected as member for Mile End.

Some one has told me that after Mr. Charrington was returned to
London's local Parliament, one of his congregation at the Great
Assembly Hall remarked that he ought to be known from henceforth as
"the member for Religion." Certainly, Mr. Charrington immediately
recommenced his efforts to purify London, and these attempts--upon
such a public stage--made his name known to almost every one in
England in a very short space of time.

It was during the London Licensing Sessions that the world at large
first heard of him. It was his efforts to make the Empire, the
Aquarium, and other places of amusement, fit for the patronage of the
ordinary man or woman, that called down upon his head a tempest of
scorn, a tornado of obloquy, and induced the congratulation, the
prayers, of thousands of Christian men and women who thought with
him.

We have seen him endure personal violence of the most vindictive kind,
as he stood fighting for his convictions, outside the music halls of
the East End. We are to see him now, no less calm and dignified,
enduring the insults of the press, and the angry opposition of his
colleagues upon the Council.

Here is a little study in contrasts!

Upon one occasion, during the battle in the East End, Mr. Charrington
was arrested as causing an obstruction, and taken to the local police
court, where he was confined all night in a cell. He had his Bible
with him, and during the hours of his incarceration, he solaced
himself with the word of God. In the morning, he was accosted by a
fellow prisoner--as all the offenders of the night before were
marshalled in the passage outside the cells.

"What are you in for?" said his new friend.

"Oh, I am in for a little affair in connection with Lusby's Music
Hall," said Mr. Charrington with a smile.

The other chuckled. "Well, I never!" he said, "so am I! I sneaked a
'am from the bar of the same 'all."

There were others in that dismal company who recognised the young
evangelist who had worked so earnestly among them for so long. He
seized the opportunity. He prayed with these derelicts of the night,
and ere they were ushered into the court to stand their hurried
trials, they had all sung a hymn together, the police standing
reverently by in complete sympathy with what Mr. Charrington did. The
evangelist was liberated at once, the magistrate remarking that the
charge was perfectly unfounded, and that, if he wished. Mr.
Charrington would have his legal remedy for false imprisonment. It is
hardly necessary to say that the evangelist brought no action against
the police or their instigators. Of all the men I have ever met, he
has realised and applied the words of the Gospel to practical life. He
has always turned the other cheek.

Here is one picture. Come with me now into the debating-room of the
London County Council and see Frederick Charrington, well-dressed,
well-groomed, strikingly handsome, and with the manner of the polished
man of the world, quietly, but forcibly, combating the emissaries and
paid supporters of vice.

I believe that this, his first prominent appearance in the London
County Council, was the occasion of much surprise.

Although he had never advertised himself at all, his name was, of
course, familiar to his colleagues. Buried in the East End as he
was--and has always been--he was, nevertheless, not unknown by rumour.
The assembled members of London's parliament expected to see an
elderly, bearded man--the typical missionary among the poor. They saw,
instead, a slim and debonair gentleman, aristocratic in appearance,
and self-possessed in manner. Such shocks to preconceived notions are
not nearly so rare as people suppose. A type--of this or that
vocation--gets fixed in the public mind in some odd way. The reality
is often startlingly opposed to the expected.

Every one who looks at the photograph of Mr. Charrington in evening
clothes, which I made him have specially taken for this book, will
agree with what I say. Indeed, during his whole life in the East End,
people who have never met him before, have called upon him for
spiritual or material assistance, and have not left him without
expressing their surprise and wonder at his personal appearance. A man
once came to him who would hardly believe that he was "the" Mr.
Charrington.

"I thought I was going to see an old bloke," he mumbled in clumsy
apology, "you know, one of them old blokes with a white beard, seeing
as I'd 'eard of you for so many years."

So, when Frederick Charrington stood up to oppose the licenses of
certain notorious music halls in the West End in the London County
Council, his personal appearance and manner created a vast amount of
surprise, and, if what I have heard is true--and I have no reason to
doubt it--something of consternation also.

The Licensing Committee of the London County Council met in the
Clerkenwell Sessions House, to consider applications for music,
dancing, and theatre licenses. Mr. T. G. Fardell, Chairman of the
Committee, presided, and there was a very full attendance of members.

The Sessions House had just been under the hands of painters and
decorators. It looked quite bright and cheerful, but it proved quite
inadequate for the accommodation of those people directly interested,
and others who had gathered to hear Mr. Charrington give his evidence
and endeavour to purge London of so much that he felt inimical to
Christianity.

[Illustration: _Photo Elliot & Fry_]

FREDERICK CHARRINGTON IN 1912

                                                 [_To face p. 138._]

I have before me all the verbatim reports of that historic meeting.
The fairest and most unbiased seems to me that of the _Daily
Telegraph_, and it is from those columns that I reprint an epitome of
what occurred. I see no better way of presenting the scene as vividly
as possible than by doing this, but my readers must understand that I
have only made extracts, as the whole proceedings are far too long to
be incorporated in a book of this size.

And, moreover, I shall only print the record of Mr. Charrington's
opposition to the licenses of music halls known by name, then and now,
to the great mass of the public.

For months he had been obtaining evidence as to the character of these
places, and also of similar and less famous ones. In a general
picture, such as I wish to present, the cases of the less important
halls must be eliminated. It is sufficient to say that the opposition
to these minor licenses was as carefully considered, and as earnestly
presented, as the objection to the others.

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 Zæo'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