No. I.-The Edinburgh Castle. ONE murky night in February we (that is, my wife and I,) sallied forth in search of a Good Templar's Lodge. We knew little of East London then, and had to follow a map-route to the school-room where our meeting was advertised to be held. On the way we passed several public-houses, for their name is legion. We only saw two places of worship-a nonconformist chapel, with the parish church of Stepney close by. Going through a narrow passage such as in Yorkshire we should call a "ginnel," we came into a street which on Sunday mornings is as busy as any market-place I have ever seen on a Saturday night. Butchers, provision dealers, costermongers, fishmongers, newsvendors, and crockery sellers, fill the air with their heterogeneous cries, and a dense crowd of people shamelessly make their purchases, while the bells of the adjoining church-so far as these are concerned-peal and appeal in vain. Not far beyond this street we turned into Rhodeswell Road, and by and by coming to a wide open place where four ways meet, we were confronted by what struck me as a most brilliantly-lighted and imposing gin-palace. I said, no wonder that men are induced to spend their money "for that which is not bread," when temptations so glaring, and so fascinating as this, are placed in their way. We paused a moment to look at the building. The front took the form of a quadrant, and for entrances had three pairs of those easy-swinging doors which open with equal facility to the sober man and the drunkard. But, strange to say, written over one of these doors was the word SOBRIETY, over another HAPPINESS, and over the third COMFORT. I was fairly puzzled. I had never before seen such words inscribed over the doors of a public-house, and yet public-house it evidently was. The illusion was so complete that whilst over the gateway of an adjoining building there flamed, in letters of light, the inscription, "God is love," it only served to remind me that— "Wherever God erects a house of prayer, The Devil always builds a chapel there; Returning home by the same route, we stopped again, this time to take a more careful look at the whole establishment. Yes, there it was, accompanied by a long water-trough, to verify, in some degree, the not unfrequent announcement of "accommodation for man and beast," and high up on a sign-board, at a little distance in front, as also on the building itself, was the name of the inn, "The Edinburgh Castle." That name enlightened me. Had I not somewhere heard the name of Dr. Barnardo in connection with the place? The illusion was dispelled. The adjoining building was a "Mission Hall," once a demoralising Penny Gaff and Concert Room ;" and the "Castle" itself was a publichouse still, but a converted one, its full name being, "The Edinburgh Castle Coffee Palace." I have already said that the front of the palace is in the form of a quadrant, and therefore not unlike the blade of a sickle with the point broken off, while the other building stands to it as if it were the handle. In the wall where the handle may be supposed to join the blade is a drinking fountain, and over that, in gilt letters within a border of oblong shape, is written a list of the various insti THE EDINBURGH CASTLE. 11 tutions which have been prompted by the kindly heart, and invented by the fertile brain, and sustained by the unwearied energy of Dr. Barnardo. The list almost takes away one's breath. Here is a copy. 3. COFFEE PALACE AND MISSION HALL, 4. MISSION HALL AND SCHOOLS, 5. 6. Hope Place, World's End, Stepney. PURE LITERATURE DEPOT, 2, North Street, Limehouse. BRANCH RAGGED SCHOOLS, Salmon's Lane, Limehouse. 7. LAUNDRY AND WORKROOMS, The reader will be informed more fully respecting most of these institutions, in some future article. My present business is to tell about "The Edinburgh Castle"-and "thereby hangs a tale." Not five years. ago it was in the hands of a publican, under whom the title of "Castle," was well sustained, for all respectable people regarded it as the stronghold of Satan. Within the tavern itself, and in the theatre attached, and also through the side doorway, where were pleasure gardens and drinking booths, scenes were nightly witnessed that would shock a Christian's heart. It was a centre of corruption-a hotbed of degrading influences-a place which, like the poison-vale of Java, lured to death the souls that sought its shade. Already a big tent, seating 3,000 people, had been erected for summer use on a vacant plot of ground in front of the "Edinburgh Castle," and was thronged with people eager to hear the gospel from the lips of such evangelists as Joshua and Mary Poole; and when the cold dark evenings came on it was felt that the spacious concert-hall of "The Edinburgh Castle" would be just the place in which to carry on the Lord's work. But how was the place to be obtained. The landlord guarded his interest with a jealous eye, and refused even to let the hall for an occasional religious service, lest his trade should thereby suffer. At this juncture there occurred one of those events by which God makes even the wrath of man to praise Him. The landlord sinned against the powers that be in liquordom. They determined, in their anger, to punish him. The heavy mortgage on the property was called in. To meet the claim the publican was obliged to sell the unexpired lease (thirty-nine years), and it was accordingly advertised to be sold by public auction. No one ever dreamed that the place was saleable beyond the circle of "the trade;" but it is not always true that "the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light." The hour had arrived, and Dr. Barnardo was the man. He bought the lease by private contract for £4,200. He at once paid down £840 deposit; and in about a fortnight's time the whole sum was to be paid or the bargain would be void. The way in which the money came to hand can only be paralleled by the way in which it comes to Geo. Müller, and C. H. Spurgeon. It was at once a trial and a triumph of faith. The money continued to pour in up to the very day for completing the purchase, yea, up to the last fifteen minutes. The papers were signed. The prize was won, and it was all the more precious since an hour's delay would have placed it in the hands of a music-hall proprietor, who was prepared to offer for it an additional £500. "Positively the last night" had very soon to appear among the theatrical announcements, and then [Exeunt publican and all his crew. The place was born again. Entering the "Coffee Palace" one evening, the bar shone bright as of yore with pewter, plate glass, and gilt. In the centre of the room stood one of those new gas-stoves which throw their light and reflect their heat from a curved, corrugated, and burnished plate of copper. The room was radiant with cheerful light, and altogether innocent of the repulsive sights and sounds so characteristic of the ordinary public-house. Besides lavatories and a smoking room, there was a reading room plentifully supplied with daily papers, and weekly and monthly serials; and a number of little stands, after the fashion of the Parisian Cafès, at which one or two could sit for refreshments, or games, such as chess and draughts, made the place both attractive and homely. But does it pay? Yes. A report before me shows that it yields a profit at the rate of no less than sixteen per cent. Let social reformers take heart, for the "Edinburgh Castle" proves that it is possible to provide a counter-attraction to the public-house, and that without pecuniary loss. As for the quondam concert-hall, a permanent notice signifies that religious services for the people are held there every evening at eight o'clock. As the fruit of tent and mission work, a church of 500 members has been gathered together, 90 per cent. of the church being total abstainers. Dr. Barnardo is a kind of honorary pastor, and there are also two or three paid workers in connection with the place. The pleasure gardens now form a pleasant lawn. The hinder part of the stage is converted into suitable vestries; and behind where the footlights once glared upon painted faces, and spangled dresses, the gospel of Jesus Christ is now preached, every Sunday, to an audience of 1,500 souls. When we remember what the "The Edinburgh Castle" once was, and what it now is-when we look on this picture and on that-we are constrained to say, "This is the Lord's doing; it is marvellous in our eyes." J. FLETCHER. TWO CHURCHES IN ONE CHAPEL. ONE is organized and duly labelled; consists of a definite number of ascertainable individuals, with pastor, and officers, and responsibility; working towards a common issue, and avowedly stands for the defence and propagation of the Gospel of Christ. The other church is scattered, irregular, and indefinite, without organization, and without distinctive signs. Its number is variable, and its component parts are not easily ascertained: it has no head, speaks by no single voice, and does not openly take sides with Christ in His incessant war with wrong. To be severely strict in the use of words perhaps we ought to say that both bands of people consist of Christians, one within and the other without the church; but those without are so essentially of the same spirit as those within, and their influence is often so effective, that we do little prejudice to the precise force of words when we speak of them as two churches in one chapel. Both belong to the same invisible and mystical church of Christ, which is to be presented to the Father without spot or blemish in the great day. Both are dear to God; both work, sometimes in the same ways, and always to similar ends; both meet in the same building, join in the same song, hear the same sermon, and help the same societies, and yet, in a very real way, they are two and not one; and because they are two and not one, the regeneration and reorganization of society on a Christian basis and by Christian power and grace, is delayed, the impressiveness of Christian life is enfeebled, serious damage is done to souls, and Christ our Lord is hindered in His march to beneficent and world-wide dominion. In one case, reported by reliable authority, the registered church consists of ninety-six members, and the unregistered of at least three hundred. The difference in favour of the unenrolled in another case is over one hundred. A pastor says, "Our sitting accommodation is almost wholly used by our members; but I may safely say there are thirty persons regularly helping us in our work as genuinely Christian as any on our books." Another says, "The best people I preach too I can't get to join the church." In every case concerning which we have sought information we find a residue of unpronounced Christians sufficiently large to awaken inquiry and concern in all minds alive to the importance of coherent activity, the advantages of "taking sides," and the elevating and character-developing power of Christian fellowship. No doubt this state of things is to be deplored and corrected. For it is a serious evil, and one that is steadily on the increase. It means loss, incalculable loss. Young men and women fail to avow themselves on the side of God and righteousness, and more easily fall into sin. They lack the stimulus of a quick and high-toned social conscience at a period when it is most needed. They miss many defences from evil; and fail to find the drill in Christian work and companionship which would be a solace and a joy amid the increasing cares of manhood, and a light in the thickening gloom of age. But the chief hurt is to the social spirit of Christianity. Christ meant this to be the "sign of signs" of His Church, and He seeks still to save the world by His love shed abroad in the hearts of His disciples, and poured out in streams of healing activity for mankind. "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples if ye have love one towards another." They will understand that, when they misread everything else. Christ does not save us merely that we may meet twice a week for public worship;—but for Christian companionship and social fellowship, for habitual co-operation in lessening sorrow, increasing happiness, inventing and improving methods of philanthropy, and thereby counterworking the selfish inertness and destructive antipathies of human nature. Good as it is to be in the chapel, it is vastly safer and better to be in the registered church, body, soul, and spirit-better for ourselves, and better for everybody else. Various reasons block the way. Many YOUNG MEN are afraid. They are intelligent. They know the doubt abroad, and are tremulous lest the foundations of the faith should be destroyed, and they should have identified themselves with a ruin. They fear the next new fossil, or new book, and so keep themselves in the back-ground, not wishing to connect themselves with any form of religion. Sincerely and honestly they hold aloof, though sincerely and honestly following Christ. Others are timorous. They fear to commit themselves publicly to a life of purity and goodness. They dread temptation, and say, "I shall fall, and dishonour Christ;" as though the Lord who saves them to-day were unable to guard and defend them tomorrow. Or they apprehend some "ordeal" of examination, some inspection of the secret and sacred movements of their inner life. Or they do not feel certain of their piety. They have no definite and dateable experiences: cannot say at what precise moment they were converted; and so, whilst rejoicingly admitting that others are disciples of Christ, they are in perpetual doubt of themselves. And yet by every test we know and can use with absolute safety these timorous, hesitant men and women are Christians. They bring forth the fruits of the Spirit. Their names are in the Lamb's book of life, for they follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth. They love Christ, have the spirit of Christ, seek to imitate Christ, and have no other hope than Christ for salvation; and without a shadow of doubt ought to be in the most pronounced, hearty, joy-giving, and soul-cultivating companionship of Christ's disciples. How can the two church's be made one? What have we to do? Blame those who will not enlist, and wear the badge as cowards? No! That will do little or no good! Charge them with pride of position and fear of soiling the fine linen of their social respectability? No: for even though it may be true, yet not thus shall we teach them to use their position for the good of men and the glory of Christ. Tell them it does not matter? Men can fight as well out of the ranks as in them? Citizens may be as patriotic, strong, and useful, without the franchise as with it? No! for that is false, and contrary to the social genius of Christianity. What then? This first-make the social life and companionship of the church a fine, high-toned spiritual power. Cease to represent Christian duty as paying a pew-rent and deferentially hearing two sermons. Give solidarity, to borrow a French word, to all the work of the church; and whilst every man has his own place and labour, take care to interest him |