The Man with the Book; or, The Bible Among the People

The Missionary followed in the direction the "fagger" had taken, and found him in Pall Mall. They stood for some time under the colonnade of the opera house, and there the man of feeble intellect called Jesus, Lord, and repeated the simple prayer he used. A few months after this he was removed to the infirmary, in abject poverty and increased mental weakness. At times, however, he used to sit in Poverty Square (a yard in the workhouse), muttering to himself the one great truth he had grasped,—that the crucified Jesus was a living Saviour; and while a ray of reason remained this gave him comfort. When last heard of his mind had entirely gone, but he was for years a living proof that the grand truth of salvation can be grasped by the feeblest as well as by the mightiest intellect.

The "niggers" were met with under very different circumstances. Several summers after the visit to their dressing-room and the rescue of "Black Poll," their friend was walking upon the sands at Broadstairs in company with three ladies. They stopped to listen to an entertainment which some "niggers," who had formed themselves into a circle, were about to give. As he knew them, and did not care that they should then recognise him, he kept at the back of the assembled listeners. Towards the close, there was a peculiar "ogling" between the "artistes," and a looking in one direction, and then they brought their entertainment to a sudden close; and to the surprise of the company, and the horror of the three ladies (who slipped off), they fairly rushed toward their friend, and in the most demonstrative manner owned him as such. "I has bin to see Poll," exclaimed Dusty, "and she's growed a wapper, and took to hedecation, as is her nature. And she writ me a letter, and if I sees yer honour arter dark I'll bring it; and now the ladies are out we picks up fourpennies and sixpennies, and when they goes in the tother sort comes out, an' we only gets browns." For the time it was a relief to be rid of them, so an appointment was made upon the sands at ten o'clock that night. The men, who had left their instruments behind them, were waiting, and a strangely pleasant hour was spent with them. As they stood at the edge, or rather followed the receding tide, the moon casting her soft light upon the rippling waves, the "niggers" listened, and in their way conversed about truths which concerned their salvation. The confidential utterance of the fiddler, will show the influence of Christian effort with such people. "You sees, sir," he said, "that this ain't a religious sort of business, but I can't be no other but a 'nigger,' and I has a wife an' three youngsters, what are always a-hopening of their mouths and must have summut to put into 'em. But I has given up getting drunk and cursing as I used, and wheresomever I bees on Sunday, I slips in to hear religion preached, if there ain't nuffin of that ere sort a-going-on in the open, as I prefers."

The presence of the "niggers" reminds us of their near neighbour in London, the convict's widow, and we will therefore finish her little history. Every six months, for nearly five years, her son at the convict establishment sent a letter to his teacher. At the end of that time the chaplain wrote to say that he was to be discharged with a ticket-of-leave, as his conduct had been very good. As it was thought well to keep him from his mother, a room was taken for him near to his teacher, as he never ceased to call him. His case was mentioned to a Christian man, a builder, who promised when his hair was grown to give him work, and to keep the secret of his antecedents from others. Upon his discharge the convict came direct to his friend's house, where his mother was ready to receive him; and the meeting was most affecting, as she hugged and kissed her son, who had grown a big man, as though he had been a child. When in quiet conversation that evening, the convict spoke with feeling of the reading upon the housetop, and added, "That night in the police cell I laid upon my face for several hours, sobbing and praying for mercy. I knew that I had done wrong, and didn't fear the punishment; all I wanted was God's pardon, and I believe that He did forgive me the next evening, as I lay praying in the cell at the detention house, for I then felt that Jesus was my Saviour, and it was the happiest evening of my life. At Dartmoor I have borne my punishment in the spirit of prayer, and I am glad of my discharge that I may show forth the praise of the Saviour." A few Sundays after, when his hair was sufficiently grown for him to mix with others, he was introduced to a branch of the Young Men's Christian Association, of which he became a member. He went to his work, and did well until the time of his full discharge. Soon after this the fact of his being a returned convict became known to his fellow-workmen and Christian friends: this caused him constant and bitter annoyance. One evening he came to his "teacher," and said, "You know, sir, that I have desired to be a soldier, and would have enlisted if I had not committed that last crime. As all is known about me, I can't stop at the builder's, and don't know where to go; so I think that I shall take the Queen's shilling, as I can be as good a Christian in the army as out of it." He acted on this resolution, and enlisted into a regiment then serving in India. He wrote several letters to his mother and teacher, telling them that he was very happy in his new calling, and that he had joined a soldiers' prayer-meeting, and taken part in its proceedings. One evening the following winter the mother came to the house of the teacher in a most pitiable condition. As she stood at the door without bonnet or shawl, and partly covered with snow, her face bore an expression of abject misery. In her hand she held a letter, and the big tears stood in her eyes. It was evident that her grief was too deep for utterance, so her friend took the letter from her hand, and glancing through it found that it was from the colour-sergeant of the regiment, to say "that her son, his comrade and Christian friend, had died of fever, after four days' illness, and that his end was perfect peace." The poor stricken one was taken into the kitchen and seated before the fire, a cup of tea being made for her. When warmed and refreshed, her friend spoke comforting words, and then they sought the soothing influence of prayer. An hour after she went out into the cold and snow much comforted, and muttering to herself about her "Eddy" and heaven. From that time her frame bowed, her hearing became heavy, and her health gradually gave way. At times she was an annoyance to her friend, as he had evidently taken the place of her son in her affections. Strange-looking object as she was, she used to call upon him at most unseasonable times. As her health failed these visits became less frequent, and in her last illness they were returned. Before her death, which was very recent, the patient labourer was rewarded for his efforts of many years to lead her to the Saviour, as she clung to Him with all the fervour of a simple faith. To the last she kept her foolish oath, for she did not for thirty years wear either bonnet or shawl.

"Saved in a London Court, and gathered into the Heavenly Mansions from India," is the epitome of the young convict's spiritual history: and as if to illustrate the fact that London is the great heart of the world, an Indian who was met with in that very Court, was drawn, gave the life-look to the Uplifted One, and from the empire city joined the "great multitude of all nations, and kindred, and people, and tongues." It thus occurred,—

Upon his entering the Court one morning, the Missionary noticed a little Indian girl, who was surrounded by a number of other children. She was about eight years of age, of dark yellow complexion, with jet black hair, which hung over her shoulders, and upon her wrists were thick silver bracelets. Upon questioning her, the child with peculiar accent, said that she came with her parents from Bombay; that her father was a cook, and had come to London to make pickles at a large shop; and that they had come to live in the Court until her father and mother got to work. He went to the room with the child, and there saw the father, a pure Indian, dressed like a Lascar. There was only a hammock-like mattress, and some ship's utensils in the room. Upon the mantel-shelf were many bottles of curry powder, and a small idol of white ivory, which seemed to represent a boy with the head of an elephant. As the Visitor started a conversation about the business, he became communicative, and stated that he was a native of Hyderabad, but had lived for many years in Bombay, where he became cook to a British sahib, and afterwards was employed to make pickles for export to England. He was reluctant to talk about religion, but said that Vishnu and Ganesa were great and powerful gods; that he had married a half-caste woman, whose mother was a Mohammedan, and whose father was an English sailor, and now kept a lodging-house for sailors at Bombay; that the bracelets upon the wrists of his child were made of silver coins which bore the image of his mother's god, and she had placed them on the child when she was an infant. He added, "that he thought his wife was a Christian, but that she had respect to Ganesa, and that he did not like his child to be a Christian, as they got drunk and broke up the gods." When the one Great God was mentioned he looked anxiously towards his idol, as though he feared that it would be injured or taken from him; and then he muttered so loudly in a strange tongue, that the visitor thought it well to leave.

A few days after the Missionary was told that the Indian was ill, and he at once went in to see him. He found him so bad, that he went out and fetched a medical friend, whose prescription gave immediate relief. That evening the heathen listened for the first time to a simple statement concerning Jehovah; His works, His mercy, and the atonement accomplished at Jerusalem for the sin of the world. As he was worse next morning, his friend obtained an indoor letter for the Middlesex Hospital, and removed him there in a cab. He remained under treatment for nearly two months, during which time he was visited thrice a week, and thoroughly instructed in the Christian faith. When discharged he did not return to the Court in which he had lived only a fortnight, as his wife had arrived, and had taken a room near some of their country people in Drury Lane. As he expressed contempt for idols, and a desire for salvation, he was introduced to the Missionary of the district, who paid him great attention, and brought several clergymen to instruct him. One day he ran after his old friend, whom he saw in Holborn, and exclaimed, "Oh, sahib, God in heaven is so great, and Jesus is our Saviour here!" This confession gave joy to his friend, who returned with him to his lodging, and was pleased to find that the Indian and his wife had become regular in their attendance at church. After a conversation about baptism, the Missionary took hold of the bracelet of their little girl, who from the time he entered the room had sat with her hand in his, and said, "These heathenish ornaments ought not to remain upon the wrists of your child, now that you are Christians." "Take them off, sahib," replied the father: "they are much money, and a present from my heart to you." A few days after the Missionary and his wife drew them open with a towel, and he has them now among other precious memorials of Christian work. Arrangements had been made for the baptism of the Indian, when he was taken suddenly ill; that sacrament was however administered by a curate of St. Giles' Church. He lived some months after this in great suffering, but he rejoiced in God his Saviour, and fell asleep in Him. As the mother was poor, with two younger children, and as the girl was exposed to much evil in that low neighbourhood, the Missionary placed her in a "rescue Home." She grew up a pleasant Christian girl, and went to service. When she last called upon her friend, all was well with her.

The young convert from infidelity, like others who had received spiritual good, left the place for more respectable lodgings. He became diligent in his attendance upon the means of grace, and by application to his trade and a good use of his leisure, he qualified himself for a better position. He formed a class of young men, who styled themselves "The Bible Defence Club," of which the Missionary became president. They met weekly to read and converse upon the evidences, and by arrangement took part in the infidel discussions. As the result, several leading sceptics became converted, and the opinions of the working men of the neighbourhood were so influenced, that the infidel club broke up, and their discussion "forum" became so thinly attended that it also came to an end. This was a great victory and cause for gratitude. The young convert had an uncle who was manager of a large firm in one of the midland towns; he was so pleased with his nephew's letters, that he offered him employment, which was gladly accepted. He rose rapidly, and a few years after, when he came to London on the business of the firm, he had become so much the gentleman that his friend scarcely knew him. Soon after his appointment as manager of a "department" he married a Christian woman, but he continued to sing in the Church choir, and to teach in the Sunday-school.

These abiding cases have given joy to the Christian worker, and helped to sustain him in still more onerous duties. They are, however, few when compared with the disappointments. At the time of the revival in the Court there was much blossom, as the inquiry for salvation was general; but when fruit was sought for, it was plain that a spiritual blight had passed over the place, destroying much good. The "omnibus-washer," for instance, became confirmed in infidelity, resisted every good influence, and died in a hopeless state; his wife became a drunkard, and his eldest children came to ruin. The "'strology woman" prospered upon the wages of iniquity, and became queen of a London den. Besides these, the Missionary used frequently to meet with those of whose salvation he once had hope, standing in the way of sinners, and sitting in the seat of the scornful. He has indeed met with bitter opposition from several over whom he once had spiritual influence. Perhaps in so real a conflict as this with the powers of darkness, such failures are to be expected; they, however, have a humbling tendency, and lead to simple resting upon the promises, as they prove that the instrument by itself is of little worth,—that souls are won, not by might, nor by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord. The one consolation, however, in these discouragements, is the fact that we never know when the Word which has been faithfully spoken will germinate. It may be years after, and in the day of the Lord many a joyous surprise may be experienced at finding unknown cases in which grace has triumphed.

Even here the "works following" past labours are causes of joy, and to complete this narrative three shall be recorded.

When he first entered the Place, the Missionary was resisted by a besotted man and his wife. He was deputy potman, or rather "hanger-on" at a gin bar, in which he used to stand for many hours daily. His wife did cleaning and odd jobs for the lower class of tradespeople, and was in dissipation a fit companion for her husband. He was taken ill, and the long-sought-for opportunity to read and reason with them was obtained; the poor man professed penitence, sank rapidly, and died. In her early widowhood the woman sought and found mercy. She left the Court, became a communicant, and has ever since been regular in her attendance at the Lord's table. She is now of advanced growth in grace, and occasionally calls upon her old friend, and they have sweet converse together about matters concerning the kingdom of heaven.

Something was gained for the right when the little Frenchman, who lived at No. 10, became subdued and attentive. Since his escape from Paris, twelve years before, he had taken up his abode in the "Grove," and forgetting his own tongue, he had learned to speak the slang language of the Court "like a native." He lived by polishing cheap furniture, and he was regarded by many of his neighbours as an amusing acquaintance. His opinions and his life were bad, as he expressed hatred toward ministers and professors of religion, and his tongue was so corrupt that some of the people (sunk as they were in ignorance and sin) avoided him. When met with by himself he was quietly and patiently instructed in the doctrines of the pure religion; but when met with among others he was put upon the defence of his low infidel sayings and his wrong living. He at length used to fix his gaze upon the Bible, when taken from the side-pocket, and listened as one who felt its power. He was once arrested by the beatitudes, and asked several times to have them read to him. All we can say more about him is that his bad influence became neutralized, and that his soul received some rays from the light of the revealed word.

The other is only part of a narrative, as it concerns our amusing acquaintance, "Black Poll." At first her conduct in the "Home" was wild and unruly, but as the civilizing process went on, she proved the truth of that saying of the ancients that "the wildest colts make the best horses, if only they are properly broke in." She was properly broke in, and developed a fine character. Quick in learning and diligent in work, she became a favourite with the ladies and the matron. She was of pleasant countenance and of marked neatness in her dress, so there was no difficulty in providing for her after she had been nearly four years in the "Home." She was received into a good family as under-nurse, and did extremely well, being much valued by her mistress and loved by the children. Unhappily for her, "Uncle Dusty" regarded her with enduring affection; upon obtaining her address, he stopped one evening with his company before the mansion where she lived, and told the footman that "he knowed 'Poll' lived there, as was a credit to him, becos he jist made a woman on her by taking her out of the workus." The family were annoyed, and the girl felt degraded before her fellow-servants, and came next day to consult with the friend who had rescued her. As she had thought of emigrating to Canada with other young people for whom kind arrangements had been made, she was advised to do so. Upon arriving in the colony she obtained a good situation, and at intervals of time sent many pleasant and thankful letters to her "Home" friends in London. The last of these was to him who has in the providence of God wrought out so great a deliverance for her. In it she informed him that she was about to be married to a young man with good prospects, and concluded with these touching words: "When, sir, you met me on the stairs God placed his banner over me, and ever since it has been love, and I shall always be your grateful girl, M. W."

Yes; the banner of a Saviour's love was placed over her, and over the old Court, when the Christians of Tunbridge Wells sent a messenger of the Cross to its people; and that banner of crimson hue still floats over them, and the restoring work goes on, as the improved condition of the place and people clearly testify. There are, however, in that neighbourhood of Lisson Grove, though situate in the western part of the capital of Christian England, a vast multitude who are uninfluenced by the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, and many of whom are deeply sunk in ignorance and sin. Ten missionary districts are unvisited, though each contains upwards of two thousand precious souls. Christian tradesman of the Edgeware Road, who are well acquainted with the spiritual necessities of the "Grove," have formed themselves into a committee to provide for three of those districts. They need help. The writer,[1 - J. M. W., London City Mission, Bridewell Place, E.C.] who is responsible for the support and extension of missionary work in this part of London, will gladly receive communications concerning giving and receiving. He is persuaded that many who read this narrative will gladly share in the joy of conveying the Gospel to this multitude of precious souls; that many will help to raise the banner of love over these acres of habitations so thickly peopled with the home heathen; that a blessing may rest upon our nation by an increase of its people who love righteousness, and who can enter with personal zest into the sweet language of the poet Weitzel:—

"Oh, blest the land: the city blest,
Where Christ the ruler is confest!
Oh, happy hearts and happy homes.
To whom this King in triumph comes."

The Book in the Bars:

ITS LIGHT.

"Amazed and sore perplexed he stood,
The sweat streamed off his rugged brow;
Like midnight wanderer in a wood,
More hopeless still his prospects grow.

"The day wore on, he marked it not,
He felt not that his cheeks were wet;
He saw himself a drunken sot,
Bound fast within the devil's net.

"He groaned beneath his heavy load:
At last a bitter cry there came,—
'Be merciful to me, oh God,
For I a wretched sinner am!'"

Mrs. Sewell.

CHAPTER VII

BETWEEN THE BARRELS—THE TRUE LIGHT SHINING—A DANGER—LIGHT IN THE CLUB-ROOM—THE CHANGE WROUGHT—VICTORY GAINED—EVIL RESISTED—GOOD ADVICE—A WHITE SERGEANT—A WISE REMOVAL—THE GOOD INCREASED.

The Book in the Bars:

ITS LIGHT

"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." Ps. cxix. 105.

YOU see, master, as how it can't be no otherwise; my poor husband is very ill, and cos it's consumption he can't live long. I has to go out a-selling to get us a living, and he is miserable all by hisself. Now, though I says it myself, he is very much respected by the landlord and all as uses this house, and he always enjoys hisself here. So they have put the two large barrels at each side of the little one, and before I goes out I takes him and puts him down comfortable, as in an arm-chair, and then his pals gives him sups of rum, and that sort of thing, and it does him lots of good—and he shan't be without his enjoyments for the like of you."

The latter part of this speech was delivered in a defiant tone. The speaker was the wife of a costermonger who lived in a neighbouring court. The person addressed was the Missionary of the district, who had, by a kind touch of the arm and a cheerful "How are you to-day?" arrested their hurried entrance into a gin-palace. The man was about thirty years of age, and as he leaned against the marbled pillar of the "palace," supporting himself upon his stick, he presented a pitiable sight. The loose-fitting jacket, the sunken eyes, the hectic flush upon the cheek, and hard breathing, indicated his near approach to the grave. A few words of gentle reproof and concern for his spiritual safety only provoked a movement by which he was partly supported and partly pushed into the bar.

As the massive door with its ground-glass panels closed upon them, an expression of sadness passed over the face of the Missionary. He had just entered upon the work, and for the first time realized in its intensity the "burden of souls." Only a few weeks before, the Committee of the London City Mission had said to him, "Visit the inhabitants of the district assigned you, for the purpose of bringing them to an acquaintance with salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, and of doing them good by every means in your power." The court in which these persons lived was within the district, and it was his duty to seek the salvation of that man. As he passed on, he thus reasoned with himself: "If I make no effort for his good, he must be lost; but what can I do? When I called in at his room last evening, he was stupefied with liquor, and it will be the same to-night. He is sober now; why should I not visit him in the bar, and deal faithfully with him?" After prayerfully pondering the matter, he turned back and timidly entered the "palace." The woman had left, but the man was there in the position described by her. The small barrel was so placed between the two large ones as to form a comfortable seat. Several men of his own class were standing by him, and though early in the day, groups of gin-drinking men and women had assembled in the four compartments into which the bar was divided. The floor had been swept and covered with sawdust, which gave it a comfortable appearance, while its spaciousness and highly-varnished hundred-gallon hogsheads, the gilded frame-work of the plate-glass panelling, the bright rows of wine and spirit bottles, and the active movements of the landlord and two barmen, rendered the place attractive and pleasant to the miserably clad customers.

The sick man was evidently startled by the appearance of the visitor, who set him at ease by observing, "You must have plenty of time for reading, so I thought I would call and give you some interesting little books which I intended to have left in your room."

Several were then handed to him, and accepted with the remark, "I can't read much, but I'll ask the chaps what reads the papers to read them to me."

The men who were standing round asked for tracts and then listened with deep interest while the Missionary repeated the parable of the builders. Only a few remarks were made upon it, when the landlord in an angry tone assured the visitor that, "They were not natural fools, to believe a set of lies made up by the Jews."

"The words I have repeated," was the calm reply, "were uttered by the Saviour of the world in mercy to sinners. Believe them, and your soul shall live."

By this time the customers had gathered from the other compartments, attracted by the novelty of religious teaching in such a place. The landlord spoke quietly to several men who were standing near the bar, and immediately after one of them made his way towards the Missionary, and tore the leaves of a tract, formed them into paper lights. He lit his own pipe with one of them, observing in derision,—

"These here are useful things, guv'nor, to light up with: give us some more."

A general laugh was suppressed by the prompt answer,—

"Of course I will, as they are useful things. I have given enough already to light you all up,—that is, in the right way; and I'll give you some more, and tell you what I mean. Now, there are some people who are always in the dark, because they are blind; and there are some people who are always dark in their souls. They don't see with their minds the beautiful things that are in the Bible, so they live badly, just as if there was no God. That's a miserable way of living; and when they are taken ill they are afraid to die, because the grave is a dark place to go to. Now, if a man reads these tracts, and thinks about what he reads, he will light up his soul. Why, at the end of this tract there is a little bit out of the Bible which would do it for all of you: 'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.' When a man believes that, he becomes sorry for his sins, and asks God for pardon, because Jesus died upon the cross for him. He is then forgiven, and by the Holy Spirit of God made good and happy. He has then no fear of death, because he is certain of being in heaven with the Saviour for ever."

Further remarks were prevented by the landlord, who, forcing his way through the crowd of eager listeners, seized the speaker by the arm, and with an oath thrust him into the street. And thus ended the first missionary visit to the public-houses.

A few days after the wife of the costermonger came up to the Missionary, who was passing the court, and said, "Please, master, my poor husband wants to be religious; he says that he is all dark, and he wants to hear some reading, and I've got no learning; and he has not been in the bar, as he thought maybe that you would call."

"I will see him at once," was the reply; and the Christian visitor stepped with her into the room.

Before a word of greeting could be uttered, the poor man exclaimed, with all the eagerness of one in spiritual distress, "Sir, I have been dreadful wicked in my time, and it's dreadful to be ill, and I don't know what prayers to say."

The visitor looked with pity into the careworn, pallid face of the all-but-dying man, and, taking a seat by his side, told him in simple words the wondrous and soothing story of a Saviour's love, and before leaving taught him a few sentences of prayer. Such visits were repeated daily, as the increasing weakness of the sufferer showed that the time for instructing him in the way of salvation was short indeed.

Upon the last of these visits he listened with absorbing interest to the narrative of the Lord's ascension, and then, with a smile of peace, exclaimed, "He died for poor me, and He has made it all right now, and I shall go up to Him."

That night he passed away; and it was for some time the talk of the Court that he died happy, because he was made a Christian in the public-house.

One evening, about thirteen months after this event, a crowd of persons, among whom were many of the respectable inhabitants, stood around the gin-palace in earnest conversation. It was so unlike the noisy crowds which assembled when drunkards were ejected, that the Missionary, who was passing, inquired the cause.