L I B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N I VER5ITY 
 
 Of ILLI NOIS
 
 MISSION LIFE 
 
 EAST LONDON, 
 
 BEING A SEQUEL TO "THE CHARITABLE ADMINISTRATION 
 OF AN EAST END MISSION DISTRICT," BY A- W. H. C. 
 
 THE EEV. W. H. LANGHOENE, MA. 
 
 MINISTER OF S. AUGUSTINE'S MISSION, STEPNEY. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 J. T. HAYES, LYALL PLACE, EATON SQUARE ; AND 
 
 17, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1876, 
 
 lAny profits ivill be devoted to the objects of the Mission.'} 
 
 f
 
 LONDON : 
 SWIFT AND CO. NEWTON STREET, HIGH HOLBGRN, W.<J.
 
 MISSION LIFE 
 
 Fm] years have elapsed since the paper was written to 
 which the following narrative forms a sequel ; and the 
 East End Mission therein described has passed from the 
 charge of its author into the hands of a successor who 
 still continues the work upon the principles he found 
 in practical operation. 
 
 These principles may be summarized in a few sen- 
 tences. 
 
 The character of the district has been sketched by Mr. 
 Cartwright. It was thus described in a letter written 
 about the same time by the late Mr. Edward Denison.* 
 
 " It is a fraction of a fraction of a parish, containing 
 some six thousand souls, about three-fourths of whom 
 belong to the lowest gi-ades of the class which live by 
 w^ages ; the other fourth consisting mainly of small shop- 
 keepers, only a step above their neighbours. There are 
 no rich people in the district, and hardly any one who 
 can be called well-to-do with the exception of a few pub- 
 licans. It is this unbroken level of poverty which is the 
 blight over East London, which makes any temporary 
 distress so severely felt, and any sustained eftbrt to better 
 its condition so difficult to bring to a successful issue. 
 The lever has to be applied from a distance, and 
 sympathy is not strong enough to bear the strain." 
 
 And again : " Now about this East of London. 
 
 * Letters and other Writings of the kite Edward D en i son, M.P. for 
 Newark. By Sir Baldwyn Leighton, Bart. Bentley and Co. 
 
 B 2
 
 ( 4 ) 
 
 What is so bad in it is, not what 'jumps at the eyes'- as 
 the French say. No, this summer, there is not so very 
 much actual suffering from want of food, nor from sick- 
 ness. What is so bad is the habitual condition of the 
 mass of humanity, its uniform mean level, the absence 
 of anything more civilising than a grinding organ to raise 
 the ideas beyond the daily bread and beer, the utter want 
 of Education, the complete indifference to Religion, with 
 the fruit of all this, viz., improvidence, dirt, and their 
 secondaries, crime and disease. Probably there are hardly 
 any of the most needy who, if they had only been mode- 
 rately frugal and provident, could not have placed them- 
 selves in a position to tide over the occasional months of 
 want or of sickness, which there always must be. The 
 bread-winner falls sick, or is out of work for a few months, 
 the home is broken up, the hospital or the workhouse 
 swallows up the family, the thread of life is broken ; 
 perhaps they have been removed to a distance from former 
 employers ; at any rate life has to be begun again right 
 from the bottom. Is it wonderful that drink and crime 
 levy a large conscription on these wretches, while the 
 remnant subside into dirt and despondency ?" 
 
 The Bishop of London, on the occasion of his granting 
 me my License, remarked that I was about to undertake 
 an arduous task ; and Bishop Piers Claughton, who has 
 frequently visited the district, speaks of it in a recent 
 letter as one presenting peculiar difficulties to a clergy- 
 man, and I have certainly found this to be the case. 
 
 It need hardly be said that, in a locality such as this, 
 distress and poverty were deeply rooted and widely 
 spread. Every one acquainted with the habits of our 
 labouring classes knows that they are as a rule un- 
 thrifty and improvident. Living from hand to mouth 
 they are often incapable of resisting the pressure of hard 
 times, and of maintaining their independence during even 
 the most temporary sickness or misfortune. A rise in 
 the price of provisions, fluctuation in trade, a severe 
 winter, and many other causes bring hundreds at once 
 almost to the verge of starvation. jf^^\
 
 ( 5 ) 
 
 Such was the condition of the Mission District when 
 my preclecessoi' took it in hand. 
 
 To relieve the distress, which seems to have reached 
 its height in the winter of 1867-8, agents of various 
 benevolent societies and charitable persons distributed, 
 apparently without discrimination, tickets for all the ne- 
 cessaries of life ; but the cure threatened to become a 
 greater evil than the disease, for the poverty of the dis- 
 trict was degenerating into pauperism. " The wretched- 
 ness was as great, the mouths were as clamorous, the 
 pauperism was as extensive as if not a penny had been 
 expended in the relief of the population." 
 
 At this juncture it was resolved to try a new system. 
 Endeavours were to be made to teach the poor to help 
 themselves, instead of being dependent upon precarious 
 and in discriminating charity ; and for this purpose two in- 
 stitutions were established, which have ever since been 
 maintained to the great, and as will appear, demonstrable 
 advantage of the population. 
 
 Since this system was inaugurated no such distress has 
 been experienced as seems to have habitually prevailed 
 in the district ; but it would not be reasonable to claim 
 for so beneficial a change that it is entirely due to the 
 inculcation of lessons of economy, or the establishment 
 of provident clubs, however successful and prosperous 
 the latter may have since become. 
 
 Bread at a moderate and even cheap price, tolerable 
 steadiness in the general trade of the country, the 
 absence of epidemics, and indeed of any serious sickness, 
 and a condition of general prosperity throughout the 
 community at large, have all doubtless contributed in pro- 
 moting improvement here as well as elsewhere ; and 
 *' charity " being no longer so abounding, the poor have, 
 on occasions of temporary distress, found it necessary to 
 depend more upon their own exertions. 
 
 This will suffice as an introduction to the following 
 narrative. It may be added that Mr. Cartwright's paper 
 may be purchased for a penny, at the office of the Charity 
 Organization Society.
 
 ^^p^^^p^^^ 
 
 ^S^9I 
 
 fe^^^^p 
 
 W^' 
 
 I HAVE been frequently asked to give some account of 
 the progress of the work whereof the outlines are traced 
 in my predecessor's paper, and also of any experiences of 
 my own in the East of London, which I think might be of 
 general interest. 
 
 In acceding to this request I hope to be able to 
 show, by facts and figures, that the efforts he and those 
 who laboured with him made, to promote the moral and 
 material improvement of the population, have been attended 
 with very encouraging and satisfactory results. And as 
 regards my own experiences, I may perhaps afford some 
 curious information, not always easily attainable, respect- 
 ing this little known region of the metropolis, as well as 
 convey a few hints and suggestions, which may pos- 
 sibly be useful to others who are engaged, like myself, in 
 the endeavour to plant Christian civilization among the 
 too long neglected masses of our large cities. 
 
 Before, however, proceeding to do this, I desire to say 
 a few words about the condition of the district as I found 
 it, on succeeding to the charge in the spring of 1 872. 
 
 That condition seemed anything but hopeful ; and my 
 first feeling was one of considerable anxiety as to my 
 power of carrying out the very diversified task I appeared, 
 rather rashly, to have undertaken, and which I had not 
 adequately realized when I accepted the position. 
 
 The work was, indeed, in many respects, unlike any 
 other in which I had up to this time been engaged, and it 
 was soon evident that it would strain all my energies. 
 
 The parishes in which my lot had been heretofore cast, 
 -were rich and prosperous, whereas this was composed 
 entirely of the poor. In former spheres of duty, I can
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 hardly add, of labour, the office of the clergyman was 
 confined to the usual routine of Sunday and daily services, 
 preparing sermons, baptizing childi*en, visiting the sick, 
 and superintending the schools. In my new position I 
 found he was looked to for the discharge of a number of 
 other functions, for the very good reason that there was 
 no one else to perform them. Everything, in short, 
 seemed to depend upon him, often even to the ringing of 
 the church bell. I found myself in the midst of a large 
 population, who were either toiling hard to earn their 
 daily bread, or else, apparently, ne'er-do-weels, given over 
 to rags and diink. There was no person in the district 
 who had leism*e or capability to aid the clergyman in any 
 conceivable way. Some notion of rehgion feebly glim- 
 mered in the surrounding murkiness, but it seemed 
 ecHpsed or smothered by the terrible aspect human life 
 presented. 
 
 For some time I felt as if I was walking in a dream, 
 where the outlines of everything were blurred and in- 
 definite. What had I come to this place for ? To dis- 
 charge the duties of clergyman of the district. What 
 duties ? For there seemed neither beginning, middle, 
 nor end to them. Occasionally traversing the district to 
 visit sick persons — whose names I found in my prede- 
 cessor's list, and who were often scarcely possessed of a 
 decent coveiing until the Mission nurse had supplied them 
 with sheets and bed-gowns — the thought occurred to my 
 mind that it was altogether vain to attempt any improve- 
 ment in such a locality. A fi'iend to whom 1 communi- 
 cated my perplexity advised me not to trouble my mind 
 too much about the matter, as, with such elements to 
 deal with, there was little or nothing to be done. 
 
 Shortly after, the Anniversary of the Mission was held, 
 and I availed myself of the occasion to invite many of 
 my friends, but very few came. After the morning 
 Service there was a public lunch, which was a mortifying 
 failure — although no less a person than Earl Beauchamp 
 presided, with the Hon. Mrs. Denison on his right — 
 followed by a parochial tea in the evening. My umbrella
 
 ( 8 ) 
 
 was pilfered, and I heard besides of several pockets being 
 picked on the occasion. My own were similarly operated 
 upon in the subsequent week, although not in the district 
 itself, and I had the tail pockets of my coat sewed up. 
 
 Another vexatious circumstance occurred about the 
 same time. A rogue, on pretence of having been sent 
 to my house by one of the Mission women, was unfor- 
 tunately admitted w^hen I was out, and succeeded in 
 laying hold of several valuable articles, with which he 
 decamped. I am almost ashamed of making the con- 
 fession, but let the truth be told. One Saturday evening 
 as I was going homewards along one of the great tho- 
 roughfares, two or three fellows, apparently by accident, 
 ran against me. I suspected nothing, but the next 
 moment I discovered that my watch was gone. Pursuit 
 was vain, as the thieves had vanished in the crowds which 
 thronged the pavement. When I mentioned this some 
 time after to Mr. Cartwi-ight, he told me that he also 
 had lost a watch, when engaged in an attempt to sepa- 
 rate two women who were fighting. 
 
 A good deal of fighting was carried on in the high 
 roads, particularly on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. 
 At one spot especially which I had to pass on my way to 
 the Church, I have occasionally seen a ring formed, and 
 the combatants in the middle stripped to the waist and 
 streaming with blood. All this was excessively loath- 
 some and disgusting. 
 
 One very sulti-y day when the odours in some of the 
 courts were more than usually sickly, I started ofi" to 
 have a breath of fresh air on the Thames. My mind 
 had been for some time fermenting, and the fumes were 
 turning my head. After walking for half an hour, hke 
 one in a trance, I found myself on Limehouse Pier, and 
 the ships passed up and down the river as in a phantas- 
 magoria. I saw them, but they had no reality; and 
 heard the manifold sounds of river life, but without their 
 making any impression upon me. I got on board the 
 first steamer that came up, without taking n ticket, and 
 made my way among a great crowd of people to the bows.
 
 ( 9 ) 
 
 The steamer stopped at Woolwich, and I remained on 
 board, returning as I came. Dming this trip I fought a 
 battle in my own mind. 
 
 I said to myself: This way of looking at things will 
 never do ; you must either buckle to the work that is 
 here evidently w^aiting to be done, or else give it up. 
 Vexation at w^hat you experience, and despair at what 
 you see, will not alter any of the conditions of your posi- 
 tion. I replied to myself: But is there any reasonable 
 prospect of a satisfactory result ? To which the other 
 spirit rejoined: What have you to do with results ? Go 
 and discharge your duty ! Did you not desii-e a vine- 
 yard of your own ? And have you not got one ? It was 
 clear that there were other difficulties to be surmounted 
 than those which the district presented. I had to over- 
 come my own repugnance to face them. 
 
 Two ladies w^ho lived, one in the extreme East, and 
 the other in the West of LondoD, and who superintended 
 respectively the work of the Mission woman, and of the 
 Mission nurse, were on the staff left by my predecessor. 
 The former, Miss I. Lilley, had been for five or six years 
 connected with the Mission, and was intimately acquainted 
 with a great many of the people, over whom she exercised 
 an elevating influence by visiting them in their houses, 
 reading to them at theii' work meetings, and showing 
 them kindness in her own home. The other lady, the 
 Hon. E. Pomeroy, came once a week to direct and super- 
 intend the work of the Mission nurse, and visit her 
 patients. I need not add that the help these ladies 
 afforded was invaluable. Unfortunately Miss Pomeroy 
 left London shortly after I came ; but her place was 
 worthily supplied by Miss Mary Fuller (Mrs. Peto), who 
 has continued to visit in the Mission ever since, and to 
 provide comforts for the sick. 
 
 Besides the help afforded by these devoted ladies, I was 
 fortunate in being able to count upon the good offices of 
 Mr. E. W. HoUond, who was then carrying on the work 
 left unfinished by Mr. Edward Denison. He greatly 
 relieved me by continuing to provide for the deficit in
 
 ( 10 ) 
 
 the school accounts, amounting annually to a consider- 
 able sum. 
 
 In the management of the Provident Fund, I had the 
 able assistance of Miss King, who acted as Miss Lilley's 
 lieutenant ; and in the Sunday School my predecessor left 
 me some excellent teachers of both sexes, who came 
 from other parts of London. 
 
 There was thus a machinery in existence, but still a 
 great deal remained to be done. The plan was to pro- 
 vide as soon as practicable a permanent church and settled 
 parochial institutions, and as yet there were but the begin- 
 nings of these. 
 
 The only edifice the district possessed, was an iron 
 church divided into two floors, the upper one serving on 
 Sundays as a place of worship, and on week days as a 
 Boys' School, the lower as an Infant School. The Girls 
 had their School in a narrow loft up a ladder in a neigh- 
 bouring street, which was the only place that could be 
 obtained for the purpose. 
 
 How shall I describe the condition of these buildings ? 
 The plates of which the church was constructed were so 
 corroded that the congregation had to protect themselves 
 with umbrellas during heavy rain. The lower room was 
 low, dark, and sepulchral, and its atmosphere was some- 
 times insupportable. But the chief business of the Mis- 
 sion was transacted there, as it formed the only available 
 place of meeting. As for the girls' loft, the roof was so 
 much out of repair as to require props, and I feared it 
 might give way in a gale. 
 
 I mention these matters as deserving of record in a 
 narrative like this. Poor, however, as the appointments 
 of the Mission were, they were rich in comparison of what 
 I was told they had been some years before, when the 
 nucleus of a congregation met in the outhouse of a back 
 yard, and there was no school at all. There existed, of 
 course, in the parish the mother church and the paro- 
 chial schools ; but these were some distance off, and had 
 their own congregation and scholars. 
 
 In my own district, there was neither place of worship,
 
 ( 11 ) 
 
 nor of education, and the only symbol of religion existed 
 in the shape of a Eoman Catholic chapel for the Germans, 
 originally built as a circus, which it might have been 
 mistaken for, the flimsy dome of which fell down with a 
 crash about two years ago, happily without injury to any 
 one, as the congregation had just dispersed. This chapel 
 has just been rebuilt in the form of a Basilica, at the 
 expense of Cardinal Manning. 
 
 Such was the general state of the district when I came. 
 There were the beginnings, as I have said, of a perma- 
 nent state of things, and some of these were of striking 
 interest. The services, for example, were hearty and 
 attended by a devout congregation ; and there was a sur- 
 pliced choir of some twelve or fourteen men and boys. I 
 was always glad when Sunday came round, as the Mission 
 assumed an entirely diflerent aspect, becoming for the 
 time pleasing and attractive. 
 
 The schools, also, poor as were their appointments, 
 were wonderfully well taught. The master of the Boys' 
 School was a German, w^io knew also Latin and Music, 
 and his scholars came fully up to the average of other 
 schools which I had known. These, by the way, mus- 
 tered three or four hundred, and were composed indis- 
 criminately of English, German, and Jewish children. 
 So struck was I with their attainments, that I suggested 
 the schools being put under Government inspection, 
 believing they would earn a grant ; but the state of the 
 buildings did not approach the standard required by the 
 Education Department. I may add that the Catechism 
 was taught to all the scholars indifi'erently. 
 
 The various funds or clubs also were in working order 
 and popular ; and on the whole there was a field only 
 waiting to be further cultivated to ensure a lich and 
 perhaps abundant harvest. Rough indeed and intract- 
 able many aspects of it seemed, but let courage and 
 patience be our watchword. Besides, were not the 
 lines for the plough already traced ? had not the most 
 rugged parts of the work been already done ?
 
 My predecessor had been intimately acquainted with 
 the people. I found that although I had been intro- 
 duced to them by the vicar of the mother parish, who was 
 also much esteemed, and by himself in very eulogistic 
 language, I should have to earn their confidence by rather 
 slow degrees. 
 
 This is doubtless the experience of every clergyman 
 entering upon a new charge, but I fancy the poor are 
 less easily won than the upper classes. However this 
 may be, I have found upon trial that they become 
 fast friends. 
 
 Well, in time I secured their confidence, chiefly by carry- 
 ing on the work as I had found it laid out ; and gradually 
 the obstacles I was at first sensible of became of less 
 account. And now there remain only two difficulties which 
 have been sometimes, however, very pressing ; namely, 
 how to obtain properly qualified district visitors and 
 Sunday school teachers ; and secondly, to provide the re- 
 quisite funds for the efficient carrying on of the work, 
 without encroaching upon the benevolence of personal 
 friends, upon whom the district has no especial claim. 
 
 It has been often suofgested to me whether there are 
 not in the locality employers of labour willing to contri- 
 bute funds for so good a purpose? Well, with the 
 exception of one firm, which has made a donation of five 
 pounds, I have been unable to find any other disposed to 
 afford assistance. They will, as Secretaries of State 
 generally reply to deputations, " consider " the applica- 
 tion, and perhaps they are '* considering" it still, for I 
 have not given them up. 
 
 It may be said, however, on the other hand, that the
 
 ( 18 ) 
 
 employers of much of the labour in the locality have no 
 knowledge whatever of the hands they employ, and when 
 they have paid them their wages their obligations are 
 considered to be discharged. The employers, besides, 
 live elsewhere ; either in the squares of the West or in 
 country mansions, where they allege they have their own 
 poor to look after. 
 
 It is to be considered also that the prevalence of 
 " strikes" has in recent years caused a breach between 
 capital and labour, and many employers, instead of 
 favouring a movement which is intended to ameliorate 
 the condition of the lower classes, will on principle with- 
 hold their sympathy, on the ground that the earnings of 
 labour are high enough for the working man to improve 
 his condition, and that charitable efforts to help him 
 to do this only tend to increase the rate of wages and to 
 deprive strikes of half their penalties. 
 
 But are there no "ground landlords? I believe there 
 are several, with rather dubious titles however. Half 
 the district is owned by the London Hospital, but 
 that institution requires all the rents it receives, and 
 many times more, for its own pui-poses. 
 
 From these statements, it will be apparent that the funds 
 for the Mission work must come from without the district. 
 
 Let me add a few more words about this important 
 question of funds. It was my predecessor's ''crook in the 
 lot," and is mine. I think I am betraying no secret 
 when I state that it was this difficulty combined with the 
 anxiety occasioned to an earnest spiiit by the various 
 responsibilities and disappointments, in a word, by the 
 constant strain of the position, which for a time disabled 
 him in more ways than one, and induced him at length 
 to remove into another department of Church work. 
 
 This is by no means a satisfactory condition of things. 
 It is clearly unfaii- that a heavier charge should be laid 
 upon any one than he can be reasonably expected to bear, 
 and the willing horse should not be urged till he breaks 
 down. Mission work is attended with peculiar difficulties, 
 and requii-es liberal support. Some people, I believe,
 
 I 14 ; 
 
 regard a Missionary as a kind of hack, who maybe remune- 
 rated at a cheap rate. They are in error. A clergyman 
 in such a position oug-ht to possess varied experience and 
 sound judgment and discretion ; and as regards cheap- 
 ness, as it is called, the outgoings of a Mission are the 
 same in kind as those of any ordinary church, and if they 
 are not, some item must be left out .which ought to be kept 
 in. Cheap things are often dear at any price. 
 
 Now, who is to support such work as this, since a poor 
 district cannot ? As a rule, I believe. Missions are 
 maintained in London and elsewhere through the exer- 
 tions of the clergyman himself. In fact, he is expected to 
 find the means, and must either do so, or fail. But this 
 is a vicious arrangement, for it compels the clergyman 
 either to support what is strictly a work of public utility 
 out of his own private means, if he has any, or to become 
 a beggar, if he has none, and thus to consume time and 
 energy which might be better used for Missionary purposes 
 under a proper distributive system. I have known clergy- 
 men, indeed, who have for years borne the burden of pro- 
 viding means for their church and parish expenses, and 
 some continue under this necessity to the end of the chapter. 
 
 Ah ! I think I hear some one say, this is what comes of 
 breaking up poor parishes into small districts. But surely 
 that does not follow. I maintain that every large parish 
 requires to be broken up into manageable portions, whether 
 it be rich or poor, and the greater the poverty, the stronger 
 the reason why the breaking up should take place. 
 
 And I will briefly give my reasons. The first is, 
 that no church, however well served, can make its in- 
 fluence felt by the surrounding population beyond a much 
 more confined area than it is commonly supposed to 
 reach. Outside that area the influence becomes so at- 
 tenuated as to be practically inappreciable. If, therefore, 
 you are to provide for the people in that outer region, you 
 must create one or more fresh centres. 
 
 Secondly, I say that the greater the poverty of such 
 outlying districts, the greater the necessity for such new 
 centres. For such new centres imply fresh religious and
 
 1 15 ) 
 
 other institutions where they are most required ; and, 
 what is better than all, the residence in the new district 
 of a clergyman who is presumably also a man of edu- 
 cation and a gentleman, and therefore a civilizing force . 
 
 It has been objected, indeed, that the system of break- 
 ing up poor parishes creates so many poor new centres, 
 instead of one perhaps only moderately well supported 
 one, and absorbs money in buildings and machinery 
 which would be better spent in increasing the means of 
 usefulness of the parent establishment. 
 
 Well, the first part of this objection may be true 
 in fact, though I do not see its force ; for it is surely 
 better, according to the first reason given above, to have 
 a poor new centre, than no new centre at all. Besides 
 it is not obvious why the new centre should be necessarily . 
 poor. I assume its being endow^ed. As to the pro- 
 posed alternative mode of applying funds, there ought to 
 be means sufficient both for the parent and offspring 
 establishments, and if the vast Church of England en- 
 dowments, for which there is now no longer any occasion 
 in the City, were equitably apportioned among the popu- 
 lation which has been squeezed out to make room for 
 counting-houses and warehouses, as they will, no doubt, 
 under the action of a higher moral tone in public opinion, 
 ere long be, they would be forthcoming.* 
 
 In offering these remarks, let me say that I do not 
 advocate, in the providing of new centres for church work 
 in om- poorer parishes, large and expensive edifices, which 
 may probably never be filled. It is within my knowledge, 
 that in a number of City and East-end churches the gal- 
 leries have been removed, either because they have 
 ceased to be used, or because they were, perhaps, never 
 used, or were never likely to be used. A century or two 
 ago, when new churches were built, the idea seems to 
 have been to erect, at great cost, very capacious 
 pewed edifices ; and, I suppose, those churches were 
 
 * See Correspondence relating to the Parochial Charities of the 
 Ancient City of London, by Sir Charles Trevelyan, Bart., K.C.B. 
 Spottiswoode and Co. 1875.
 
 ( 16 ) 
 
 once well filled. In later times, the same idea seems 
 to have guided church builders, though the scale of their 
 edifices was every way less ambitious. 
 
 This idea has, however, become modified ; and the 
 present notion of a church suitable, at all events, for 
 a poor neighbourhood, is that its dimensions should be 
 small as compared with our grandfathers' type, but 
 that it should be free and convenient of access to the 
 surrounding population. 
 
 But I am digressing, and will proceed now to state 
 what the pecuniary aspect of the Mission under my 
 charge is. The stipend is ^9200 a year, but this is 
 reduced to ^6150, as the rent of a parsonage house falls 
 to be deducted. The outgoings of the Mission average 
 from ^6150 to i£200 a year, and comprise Mission-house 
 rent, taxes, insurance, repairs and fittings, salaries, 
 books, help to the sick and indigent, entertainments, and 
 school rewards. 
 
 To meet this expenditure the Mission has received 
 grants of from £40 to ^50 from the Bishop of London's 
 Fund and the Metropolitan Visiting and Relief Associa- 
 tion ; the collections in the church, consisting by the way 
 of pence and farthings, amount to something over ^620 
 more, and the deficit is provided partly by old friends* 
 of the Mission, and partly by new ones. I have also 
 occasionally turned lecturer to obtain means for certain 
 purposes, and in order to avoid troubling my friends. 
 
 I have alluded to the parsonage, and this reminds me 
 that I have been asked whether I reside in the district. 
 
 This house, which goes by the name of Coynant, or 
 Cognant, for I have failed to discover the derivation of 
 so singular a title, is situated in a thoroughfare called 
 the Globe Road, and was built about a century ago. It 
 may be seen in maps of London of that date, together 
 with a few others in the immediate neighbourhood, the 
 space intervening between them and the city being then 
 country. I suppose it was originally intended for a 
 
 * I have also thankfully to acknowledge offerings from St. 
 Gabriel's, Pimlico ; Christ Church, Ealing ; and Hawarden.
 
 ( 17 ) 
 
 mercliant's villa, for it overlooked a park, now built 
 upon ; the only remnant of which consists of a small garden 
 bordered by old trees, in the centre of which the house 
 stands. It is a kind of stronghold in its way, the walls 
 being thick, and the shutters and outer doors lined with 
 iron, and protected by ponderous bars, suggestive of 
 housebreakers. In later years it has been used as a par- 
 sonage by a succession of city rectors ; and my prede- 
 cessor, seeking for a house and finding this vacant, took 
 it at a comparatively low rent, and on leaving transferred 
 it to me, as the idea of obtaining a suitable house within 
 the district was quite out of the question. 
 
 To return, however, to my story. 
 
 After I had been several months in the Mission changes 
 took place, which considerably modified its character, 
 and tended towards its advancement. 
 
 In the first place the London School Board scheduled 
 the district as one among several others in the neigh- 
 bourhood which were to enjoy the benefit of a Board 
 School in their midst. 
 
 It would have been useless for me to have interposed, 
 even if I had been so minded, for my opinion w^as not 
 asked, and I w^as therefore left no choice, I very much 
 regretted giving up the schools, but an adversary was in 
 the way with me, with whom it was politic to agree 
 quickly ; and indeed, the necessity for giving them up had 
 become urgent, 
 
 I have akeady mentioned Mr. E, W. HoUond, It was 
 at this juncture that he was taken ill and ordered to seek 
 necessary rest and relaxation. Before leaving town he 
 kindly undertook to provide his accustomed help to the 
 schools until such time as they should be transferred to 
 the London School Board. Meanwhile I arranged with 
 Mr, E. H. Currie to hand over my schools to him, and one 
 morning I marched the scholars to the temporary pre- 
 mises pro\'ided for them, wishing them God speed in 
 theii' new place of education, and telling them I hoped to 
 see them as usual at the Sunday School of the Mission. 
 
 It was hardly a day too soon. A severe storm tore off 
 
 c
 
 ( 18 ) 
 
 part of the plates of the school church, deluging the 
 organ, and rendering the building uninhabitable. 
 
 I set myself to get the church repaired to such an ex- 
 tent at least as would prevent the necessity for the use of 
 umbrellas during the service. The Bishop of London's 
 Fund made a liberal grant, and I obtained from private 
 sources a sufficient sum for seats and fittings, the old 
 ones being irreparably damaged. The upper and lower 
 rooms were thrown into one, and in this way a fair tem- 
 porary church was obtained, capable of accommodatingj 
 with the gallery space, 250 persons. 
 
 About the same time a house falling vacant nearly op- 
 posite the church, and presenting capabilities that pro- 
 mised well for a Mission House, I took it at a rent of 
 i940 on my own responsibility, and by throwing two 
 rooms and the intervening passage in the street floor 
 into one, obtained an apartment sufficient for fifty adults 
 or eighty children, the upper rooms being arranged as re- 
 sidences for the Mission women, the nurse, and the care- 
 taker of the church. In this way the Mission was pro- 
 vided with a house adequate for present requirements. 
 
 Shortly afterwards I engaged another Mission woman 
 to overtake the work the first* had created ; and the dis- 
 trict was divided between them. 
 
 Before leaving this part of the subject, I desire to offer 
 a suggestion as to the material of which temporary 
 churches should be constructed. 
 
 Iron is not suitable for such a purpose in our English 
 climate, for unless frequently painted the plates soon cor- 
 rode, and they cannot easily be repaired. It is objection- 
 able also as being a cold material for winter, and a hot 
 one for summer. Brick is by far the best and cheapest 
 in the end. The frame should be made of timber and 
 built in with brick, as is the custom in many permanent 
 houses abroad. 
 
 * Mrs. Elliott, since dead. For her interesting history see " A 
 Servant of the Poor," published by the Society for Promoting Chris- 
 tian Knowledge. 1874.
 
 I WILL now advert to the condition of the Provident 
 Funds and other institutions founded by my predecessor ; 
 but in judging of their success, the reader will be good 
 enough to keep in mind the condition of the district, as 
 he and Mr. Denison have described it. 
 
 The first Club* established by Mr. Cartwright was the 
 Clothing Club. In this the deposits of the poor are 
 collected by the Mission women, and returned in the 
 shape of clothing, bedding, or articles for domestic use. 
 
 The operations of the Club have been as follows : — 
 
 
 Families 
 
 
 Persons at 
 
 Year. 
 
 visited. 
 
 Deposits received. 
 
 weekly meetings, 
 
 186i 
 
 4464 
 
 £38 6 8i 
 
 822 
 
 1866 
 
 4708 
 
 47 12 61. 
 
 621 
 
 1867 
 
 1852 
 
 11 7 8i 
 
 191 
 
 1868 
 
 8538 
 
 62 17 3i 
 
 970 
 
 1869 
 
 11,028 
 
 85 4 8i 
 
 880 
 
 1870 
 
 11,483 
 
 97 8 9 
 
 646 
 
 1871 
 
 11,476 
 
 117 6 10| 
 
 621 
 
 1872 
 
 17,305 
 
 121 19 9i 
 
 700 
 
 1873 
 
 16,329 
 
 131 4i 
 
 612 
 
 1874 
 
 11,213 
 
 103 15 6| 
 
 776 
 
 1875 
 
 18,262 
 
 139 11 5i 
 
 1,055 
 
 In eleven years £'977 11 9i 
 
 To estimate at its proper value the meaning of these 
 savings it should be considered what the condition of 
 many in the district might at the present time have been 
 had they not been made. 
 
 * Or, more properly, re-established in 1867. 
 
 c 2
 
 ( 20 ) 
 
 To what are the savings a}3plied ? To the purchase 
 of necessary articles exclusively, for they cannot be ap- 
 propriated in any other way. Any one who knows the 
 habits of our poorer classes is aware of the thoughtless, 
 thriftless way in which they spend the money that comes 
 into their possession. I may afford some specimens 
 of their lavish ways before I conclude. Meanwhile, ob- 
 serve that their money in numberless instances is ex- 
 pended first in food and firing, and next in amusement 
 and drink. It would be often more correct to invert 
 this order. At all events, so much is expended on these 
 items that the home is frequently impoverished, and suffi- 
 cient money is not left to provide the necessary clothing 
 and bedding and ordinary furniture to make the room even 
 tolerably comfortable. Speaking generally, the poor 
 cannot keep money, and, if their condition is to be 
 improved, agencies must be devised to keep it for them. 
 It is this inability to lay by, added to frequent visits to 
 the beershop, which prevents them bujdng articles neces- 
 sary for every house, however humble, but which cost 
 sums more considerable than they are often able to pay. 
 
 Here I will digress for a moment to speak of the value 
 I have learned to set upon the work of the Parochial 
 Mission women in a poor parish. 
 
 These women are themselves selected from the poorer 
 class, and receive only such remuneration as they might 
 earn in the homes from which they are taken. Their 
 work is neither to teach, read, nor distribute alms, but to 
 show, by their example, and by intercourse with the poor, 
 how thrift, order, and cleanliness may improve their con- 
 dition and promote their comfort and well-being. The 
 Mission women also have opportunities of influencing 
 people for good in times of sickness and distress, and they 
 form a link between the clergyman and his poorer people 
 which soon becomes an indispensable part of the 
 machinery of his district. 
 
 I turn now to the Provident Fund, which was estab- 
 lished at the commencement of 1869, for the purpose of 
 affording facilities to the population to save their money
 
 ( 21 ) 
 
 by weekly deposits. Here is a summary of the opera- 
 tions of this Fund. 
 
 Year. 
 
 Depositors. 
 
 Amount deposited. 
 
 1869 
 
 251 
 
 i^ 78 5 6 
 
 1870 
 
 419 
 
 180 1 8 
 
 1871 
 
 542 
 
 266 15 7 
 
 1872 
 
 718 
 
 346 9 10 
 
 1873 
 
 459 
 
 301 2 1 
 
 1874 
 
 404 
 
 264 6 
 
 1875 
 
 503 
 ,rs, 3296 
 
 352 19 10 
 
 sven yea 
 
 £1789 19 6 
 
 The interest* paid upon these deposits amounted in 
 the whole to about £40, and was partly earned by being 
 placed in the Post Office Savings Bank, and partly 
 granted for the purpose by the Metropolitan Visiting and 
 Kelief Association, 
 
 Towards the close of last year (1875), I was invited 
 by Mr. Bartley, Secretary of the Provident Knowledge 
 Society, to attend a meeting of the National Savings 
 Bauk, Limited, then incubating. 
 
 A good number of the clergy were present, and both 
 Mr. Bartley, and the Chairman, Colonel Eardley Wilmot, 
 were closely interrogated as to the principles and pro- 
 posed practice of the enterprise. On the part of the 
 clergy there seemed to exist a very general feeling that 
 the Provident Funds or Penny Banks they managed had 
 become a source of considerable trouble and responsi- 
 bility, and as the new undertaking seemed to stand the 
 test of the strictest examination, Mr. Bartley was asked, 
 before the meeting closed, to take over several such Funds 
 or Banks at the new year. 
 
 On the 3rd of January, the Collector of the Bank took 
 my customary place in the Mission House, and I assisted 
 him to receive deposits from 98 persons, amounting to 
 £46 odd. Of this sum, however, one depositor put in 
 
 * Interest, at the rate of 3 per cent, was paid upon sums which 
 were suffered to remain in the Bank till the end of the year.
 
 { 22 ) 
 
 all her savings of £36, which she had for the most part 
 allowed to accumulate since the commencement of the 
 Fund. 
 
 An illustration of the suspicion with which any novel 
 enterprise where money is concerned is regarded by the 
 poor here occurred. I had given my depositors three 
 weeks' notice of this change, and explained to them, as 
 I thought, the superior advantages the new system would 
 afford them. But in the new list many familiar names 
 were wanting. I heard one reason for this hesitation. The 
 soundness of the new security was suspected. At the 
 next meeting, therefore, I took the opportunity of argu- 
 ing the matter with them. 
 
 You have hitherto, I said, been trusting me, and me 
 alone, and if you have all on every occasion of your apply- 
 ing for them, received your deposits back in full, all I 
 can say is, you may consider yourselves very fortunate, 
 for the security has been a very risky one. Supposing, 
 I said, an accident had befallen me when I had sums 
 of yours in my hands, who then would have satis- 
 fied all your numerous claims ? You would have got 
 back the money, no doubt, but not at once, for the 
 accounts would have given any one else but myself much 
 trouble to unraveL Besides, I added, you do not consider 
 how much labour the receiving, booking, keeping, and 
 paying back of your deposits involves, and how difficult 
 it is to obtain a competent person to take my place at 
 this table when from any cause I require to be absent. 
 
 But they did not see this. All they knew was that 
 hitherto their money had been safe with me ; they 
 never thought how much responsibility was thereby 
 entailed. 
 
 What I felt was that the lesson of economy had been 
 already so far inculcated by the clergyman, and the 
 National Penny Bank being prepared to take the Pro- 
 vident Fund off my hands, a favourable opportunity was 
 presented for weaning the people from the clergyman's 
 nursing. And very much relieved am I now that the 
 risk attendant upon the safe custody of several hundreds
 
 ( 23 ) 
 
 of pounds of the savings of the poor has been transferred 
 to shoulders which I believe will be well able to bear it. 
 
 I am writing at greater length than I intended, but this 
 question of Provident Funds is important, and I have still 
 a little more to say upon the subject. 
 
 That our people require to be taught to save their 
 earnings, and that this can often only be done by the 
 clergyman will, I suppose, be admitted. But when a 
 business of this kind becomes large, its transactions 
 almost require a regular accountant, which a clergyman 
 can hardly be, without stepping out of his sphere. There 
 are persons indeed who urge, There are the Post Office 
 Savings Banks, what more can you require ? 
 
 Well, the poor do not take kindly to the Post Office 
 Banks. First, the Post Office will receive no deposit less 
 than a shilling, and requires certain formalities on the 
 withdrawal of money which involve more trouble than the 
 poor will undergo for the sake of the small sums with 
 which they have mostly to deal. In the next place, the 
 savings of the poor are generally effected by the wives 
 and mothers, who either come themselves or send their 
 children with the sums they intend to deposit. If a great 
 thoroughfare intervenes between their homes and the 
 Post Office they are very loath to cross it on ordinary oc- 
 casions, and they rightly refuse to allow their children 
 to do so. 
 
 If, therefore, economy is to be inculcated among the 
 class w^hich needs most to learn the lesson, facilities 
 must be afforded greater than the Post Office Banks 
 offer, and it is here the National Penny Bank fills up a 
 gap, for it undertakes to send a clerk to make collections 
 at any time and place desired, and in dismissing the sub- 
 ject I wdsh that Bank all success. 
 
 The Funds established by my predecessor being in the 
 condition I have described, material improvement has, as 
 a natural consequence, followed, and there is now a 
 considerable amount of prosperity in the district. 
 
 I have known, for example, cases where families 
 have saved enough to set up in trade for themselves,
 
 ( 24 ) 
 
 or to emigrate with something in their pockets. I 
 might cite the instance of one such family, who were 
 earning a precarious subsistence by tailoring when I 
 first knew them. In time they hired a sewing machine, 
 then bought it ; to this they added another, and I be- 
 lieve a third, and now they have the whole house to 
 themselves, and are doing a not inconsiderable busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Another family I knew (they were Germans), who 
 saved sufficient wherewith to emigrate to America. I 
 might cite another case — that of a shoemaker. He also 
 was a German, and when I first knew him was leading 
 an exceedingly laborious life, working from five in the 
 morning till eleven at night. I will state presently how 
 such work as his is remunerated, but meanwhile let 
 me finish my story about this man. I made his ac- 
 quaintance by being called on a sudden to baptize his 
 infant, which was dying. I am sometimes asked by the 
 Germans to do so on emergencies^ and as Dr. Cappel 
 entirely concurs, of course I never refuse. 
 
 Well, a more wretched home I had hardly ever seen, 
 but the people were hardworking and self-denying. I 
 was much gratified, therefore, one day when the German 
 came to tell me he had saved a little money, and had 
 taken a small shop in an adjoining street. He wished 
 at the same time to thank me for baptizing his child. 
 In this shop he remained two years, doing an apparently 
 increasing business, as the appearance of the window 
 showed. Last year he came to me again, and told me he 
 had taken a contract which would be profitable to him if 
 he could procure a loan of £5. Thinking favourably of 
 the case, I referred the man to the Charity Organization 
 Society. The Local Committee granted the loan, and 
 the contract was successful. The man is now in a larger 
 shop in one of the great highways, and I believe is doing 
 a good business. I should add, to complete my story, 
 that the loan was repaid, and that the last time I saw 
 him and his family they were all well dressed, and were 
 the picture of prosperity.
 
 ( 25 ) 
 
 It will be perceived from the hints I have let fall that 
 the population of my district is a mixed one ; one-fifth, 
 perhaps, consisting of Germans, Poles, and Jews. This 
 is about the proportion they bear to the whole in the list at 
 the Mission. With this element of the population I often 
 come into contact ; and I look upon them all as equally 
 wdthin the province of the Mission, in its aspect as a social 
 reforming agency, to assist. The Mission women indeed, 
 and the Mission nurse are instructed to make no differ- 
 ence in their dealings with different creeds or nation- 
 alities. In this way I have relations with a great variety 
 of people, with some of whom I have become intimate. 
 
 I will presently describe some of these, as specimens of 
 the characters I am thrown into contact with ; but before 
 doing so, I will extract from the Mission books a list of 
 some of the occupations pursued in the district. 
 
 I find, then, butchers, bakers, skin-dressers, sausage- 
 makers, engine-drivers, engineers' hands, brewers' men, 
 policemen, tailors, pattern-makers, gunsmiths, lock- 
 smiths, tinsmiths, sempstresses, boot, shoe, and slipper 
 makers, button-hole stitchers, dock labourers, coopers, 
 cellarmen, pipe makers, acrobats, piece brokers, marine 
 store dealers, pedlars, doll dressers, sewer-men, street 
 singers, barrel organ men, publicans' men, sugar bakers, 
 fruiterers, costermongers, bell founders, stevedores, furni- 
 ture brokers, cigar makers, carpenters, confectionery 
 bakers, undertakers, carmen, accordion and banjo makers, 
 glaziers, frame and looking-glass makers, and I dare say 
 there are many more. 
 
 I could tell many stories about some of these people 
 and their trades ; for one of the most interesting aspects 
 of my position consists in the opportunities it gives me of 
 becoming acquainted with the means whereby London 
 lives. I seem here to get behind the dial, and to see 
 the working of the gi-eat machine of human society ; and 
 the more closely one observes this the gi-eater astonish- 
 ment does it create ; for even from this wretched corner 
 of the great city links stretch to the farthest ends of the 
 earth.
 
 In the trades I have just mentioned, most of the work 
 done in the district is of the lowest class. I mean, 
 articles are here tm-ned out in the first instance, and they 
 pass through several intervening hands before they finally 
 reach the consumers, or purchasers, of them. This 
 accounts for the difference of price between their original 
 and their ultimate cost. As a rule, the great shops and 
 warehouses supply the material ready prepared for the 
 workpeople, who generally bring them up to a certain 
 point, at which the goods are transferred to other hands 
 to be finished. 
 
 To take a few examples. 
 
 A City firm, suppose, has a contract to supply a certain 
 quantity of clothing, or any other article ; the contractor 
 prepares the stuff, and bargains with one or more middle- 
 men, who find the labour ; or else the contracting house 
 sends the stuff out direct. 
 
 Let me take some articles at which my people work, 
 and what they earn thereby. The rate at which slippers 
 are made by the workmen is, for example, about four 
 shillings per dozen pairs, and boots from eight to fifteen 
 shillings; waistcoats are paid for at the rate of from 
 nine to fifteen or eighteen shillings the dozen ; trousers, 
 from fifteen to thirty shillings per dozen pairs ; coats, 
 half-a-crown to five shillings a piece, or if of superior 
 quality ten shillings to a pound. At button-holing, a 
 good hand may earn a pound a week; finishers and 
 pressers, the same. This is, indeed, about what may be 
 earned in any of the trades just mentioned ; but to earn 
 this sum the work must be continued fifteen hours. 
 When there are several in a family the earnings may 
 be doubled, trebled, or quadrupled ; and I have known 
 such families to deposit a pound, and occasionally two 
 pounds, a week in the Provident Fund.
 
 ( 27 ) 
 
 There are other trades m which labour is paid for by 
 the day. Thus dock hands may earn from fifteen 
 shillings to a pound a week. Costermongers, if clever 
 and diligent, may realize a pound, or even two, in profits 
 of their trade. Other occupations are less profitable, 
 especially where a contract is sublet, as is often the case, 
 and then earnings are reduced almost to starvation point. 
 Thus light slippers for export to the tropics bring in only 
 two shillings per dozen pairs, shirts from a shilling to 
 four shillings per dozen ; and lucifer match box makers, 
 threepence a gross. A change in fashions sometimes 
 implies abundance of work in certain trades, or no work 
 at all. Cigar making is chiefly in the hands of the Jews. 
 
 What is called the piece-brokering business forms a 
 curious illustration of the manner in which everything, 
 however apparently worthless, is turned to account in 
 London. Thus the cuttings of cloth, linen, silk, and 
 other materials are bought, sorted and resold by the 
 piece-brokers, who sometimes make a great deal of 
 money. Here is a specimen of one. 
 
 He is a Jew, and although his shop seems a poor 
 enough one, it contains many tons of stuff" which he and 
 his wife sort, pack, and dispose of. He gets rags from 
 all quarters by the waggon load, and has a considerable 
 trade with our Colonies and with Africa. A year ago he 
 sent his son to the Cape, and set him up with goods to 
 the value of i^lOOO. The woollen rags go to Yorkshire, 
 to be made into shoddy; the linen, to the paper-makers ; 
 and the lighter ones, mostly patterns apparently, are 
 sold at so much a pound to the doll-dressers. One day 
 seeing in his shop window a number of scarlet and other 
 liveries, I had the curiosity to go in and ask him where 
 he had got them, and what they were for. He had bought 
 them at the clothes fair in Houndsditch, by auction, and 
 they were going to be sent to the East Coast of Africa. 
 I pictured to myself king Koff'e and the Ashanti princes 
 in cast-off" Lord Mayors' coachmans' coats and cocked 
 hats, and the idea was not a little grotesque. 
 
 I have seen on his counter bales containing clothing
 
 ( 28 ) 
 
 for the Colonies. How much do these trousers cost 
 yon ? I asked. Four and sixpence. And how much 
 do they fetch on the other side ? Nine or ten shiUings. 
 The freight ? Twopence or threepence the pair, pack- 
 ing and dues included. What are all these paper things 
 lying there ? Look and see ; unfold one. It was a 
 girl's frock. A pattern, I said. No, not a pattern — a 
 dress ! A dress ? Yes, a dress. They were fashionable 
 paper gowns, in gaudy colours, for the East Coast of 
 Africa. Look, sir, would you like a beautiful piece of 
 stuff for the missus ? Show it to me. He produces a 
 small piece of magnificent crimson damask satin, fit for 
 a royal robe. How much ? Two pounds a yard. You 
 may have it for one. Too grand for me ! He offers a 
 cake of unleavened bread for the little one, and we part. 
 
 This cake deserves a word of description. It con- 
 sists of a very thin biscuit, about a foot in diameter, 
 made of pure wheaten flour, water, and a little salt, 
 and is the unleavened bread of the Passover ; but the 
 Jews eat it at other times as well. On their great fes- 
 tivals, and particularly at Easter, they make complimen- 
 tary presents of these cakes to their friends, and this is 
 how we get them. The cakes are very good, and as they 
 are of course brittle, a great proportion is broken in the 
 course of manufacture. The broken pieces are pounded 
 and converted into food for infants, for which their purity 
 qualifies them. 
 
 There seems no reason to doubt that it was one of 
 such cakes that our Saviour blessed at the institution of 
 the Holy Supper, and that the Roman Catholic Church 
 has preserved the tradition in the wafer used at the Mass. 
 
 Another Jew had his children at the schools, and his 
 wife also was well known at the Mission. To make his 
 trade intelligible, it will have to be borne in mind what 
 an enormous quantity of damaged goods finds its way into 
 the market. 
 
 Take this instance. A partner in a Manchester ware- 
 house in the City told me that on one day shortly before 
 Christmas he sold, of one article alone, £6000 worth.
 
 ( 29 ) 
 
 This house takes stock twice a year, and all goods in the 
 least damaged or out of fashion are put on one side. These 
 are purchased by brokers to make room for fresh arrivals. 
 
 Well, my friend — whom I will call Mr. Moses —deals in 
 china, leather goods, and crystal. He goes the round of 
 the great shops at stocktaking times and buys up the de- 
 preciated goods. If they are china he cements the 
 broken bits together, or if glass gets them blown in 
 the furnace, and he has occasionally some beautiful 
 articles in Dresden, Minton, Majolica, and Bohemian 
 ware. It will have, no doubt, been observed that china 
 ornaments, figures, and nicknacks are very frequent in 
 pawnbrokers' shop-windows. Moses says they are bought 
 of dealers in his line of business. Many customers from 
 the West frequent his shop ; and fashionables, he says, 
 are not above driving as hard a bargain with him as any 
 of his own nation. 
 
 His son, who was at ^t. Augustine's school, does a busi- 
 ness of his own in goods which he buys at Government 
 store and other sales ; and the other day he told me he 
 had bought a large parcel of French clocks. I was much 
 amused on one occasion with a purchase the lad had 
 made. I met him carrying a heavy bag. What have 
 you got there ? I asked. Boots, he said. The parcel 
 consisted of a quantity of pattern boots, all for one 
 foot. I asked him who he expected would buy them ? 
 Without moving a muscle, he replied that there were 
 plenty of one-legged people who would be glad to have 
 a well-made boot cheap. 
 
 Another Jew with whom I have had dealings, trades 
 in cutlery and ironmongery. He has been twenty years 
 in his present place, and says he began business with a 
 crown piece. My conversations with him always take a 
 reHgious turn. He calls himself a Christian Israelite, 
 and is a preacher and leader in his sect. His knowledge 
 of Scripture is extensive, and he renders good reasons 
 for his peculiar system, which has neither priests, sacra- 
 ments nor liturgies. He seems to hold all that any 
 Christian would on the subject of the true Messiah having
 
 ( 30 ) 
 
 come, and of Jesus Christ being the Son of God. But 
 he becomes very transcendental ; and as our conversation 
 goes on when I am making some trifling purchase, and 
 is interrupted by other persons coming in and going out 
 we never get much beyond the point at which we started, 
 and I expect never will. 
 
 This man has addressed letters to English theolo- 
 gians, one of them a Bishop, pressing arguments upon 
 their notice in favour of his peculiar system, and is much 
 hurt when a reply is not returned. His controversy, 
 however, is of tremendous dimensions, and I have told 
 him I hardly wondered at his correspondents not wishing 
 to engage in it. Justly enough, however, he rejoins, that 
 they ought either not to make without proof the statements 
 at public meetings to which he objects, and which are the 
 occasion of his taking his pen, or, if they make them, 
 should answer his counter arguments. At all events, civi- 
 lity is cheap, and a polite letter deserves acknowledgment. 
 
 Having given some specimens of my Jewish parish- 
 ioners, let me add a few more of my English ones. 
 
 One of these (he died a year ago) was an old man 
 bearing a name not unknown to fame. He also was in 
 the brokering trade. I made his acquaintance through his 
 occasionally having old books in his shop window. His 
 account of himself was that he was the illegitimate son 
 of the distinguished man whose name he bore, and he 
 used to have a small allowance until comparatively re- 
 cent years from his family. He was much respected by 
 the lodge to which he belonged, and which presented 
 him with a medal shortly before his death. His business 
 consisted in clearing out houses after sales of good?. 
 His shop was always in extraordinary confusion, and I 
 have had to get him to provide a boy to ferret out the 
 books that were lying about, covered with heaps of 
 rubbish. He never knew what they were. On one occa- 
 sion I found a folio volume of Bayle's Critical Dictionary 
 stopping up a broken pane of glass. I asked him where 
 the other volumes were. He said he had sold them all 
 with a quantity of insides of other books, of which he
 
 ( 31 ) 
 
 showed me the hoards, at three halfpence a pound to 
 Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper collectors for pulp. 
 
 Still a number of books, chiefly French and German, 
 remained, of which I bought a few at twopence a pound, 
 but many of them were odd volumes. I asked him where 
 he got such a queer collection, and he told me their his- 
 tory. A gentleman belonging to the Bank of England 
 had recently died at Bow, who had been a collector of 
 pictures and books all his life, and possessed also a 
 cellar of curious wines. His house was stuffed with books, 
 as they were found in closets, under sofas and beds, and 
 even piled up on the steps of the staircase. The sale 
 took place in due course. The pictures fetched several 
 thousands of pounds, and were bought by dealers from 
 the West, who purchased also the best of the library and 
 of the wine. 
 
 There were still two van loads of stuff over, which my 
 fi*iend bought by weight or bulk. Among the lots was one 
 of odd bottles of wdne, supposed to be home made. It turned 
 out, however, to be Tokay, worth ten shilHngs a bottle. 
 
 The same man had occasionally quantities of red cloth, 
 and what is called Turkey red, which he sold by the 
 pound. It came from such places as the Guildhall, 
 after an Emperor's or a Prince's visit, or from St. Paul's 
 Cathedral. The Turkey red, he said, is bought by the 
 people who make the sawdust rolls which are used to 
 stop draughts at the juncture of window frames. 
 
 Another of my English parishioners has a polishing 
 shop, where he furbishes up steel goods of aU kinds, 
 chiefly from old Government stores. It is extraordinary 
 what quantities of rusty knives, scissors, buckles, stirrups, 
 bits, and other steel articles find theii* way through this 
 channel into the market. 
 
 Occasionally van loads of boxes arrive at his shop 
 filled with old gims, swords, and bayonets. This takes 
 place, I have observed, when there is any Colonial or 
 African war going on. 
 
 My friend is a pious Wesleyan, and on some occasions 
 has communicated to me his misgivings as to the lawful-
 
 ( 32 ) 
 
 ness of his occupation; for I am a man of peace, he says, 
 and abhor bloodshed. 
 
 I have consoled him, however, with the reflection, that 
 so long as he does nothing worse than polish up old 
 blunderbusses which their owners will be careful to put 
 very little powder into, in case they burst, he may keep 
 his mind at ease, and as for the sabres, as they will pro- 
 bably only be used as ornaments by the negroes, he can 
 keep them as blunt as his contract will allow. 
 
 Comparisons are justly said to be odious, but one can- 
 not sometimes avoid making them, and I have frequently, 
 in my own mind, contrasted the characteristics of my 
 parishioners of different nations. As regards the Jews, 
 the common estimate of them is a very unjust one. 
 They are a hard-working, steady-going, and, in my expe- 
 rience, fair dealing people, and, as a rule, they improve 
 their opportunities. Their style of living would be con- 
 temned by our own people, for they are usually content 
 with the most frugal fare. They have a kind of poor 
 law of their own, with guardians appointed, I believe, by 
 the synagogues. They are strict in their religious obser- 
 vances, and bring up their children to read so much Hebrew 
 as is required to understand their service books. It is 
 extraordinary what large families they have, but somehow 
 or ot her they manage to turn them to account at an early 
 age, and to make them earn an independent subsistence. 
 
 The Germans are generally also economical and frugal 
 as compared with our own people, and seem to be able 
 to turn their hand to a variety of employments ; so that 
 when they are out of one kind of work, they generally 
 take up another, and this of course gives them a con- 
 siderable advantage. When they do break out, however, 
 into dissipation, their revels are dreadful. '* Diem, noc- 
 temque continuare potando," as Tacitus said of their 
 ancestors, '' saepius csede et vulneribus." They frequently 
 intermarry with our own people, and then the children 
 are accounted English. A good many go to the United 
 States, but I never heard of any returning to their native 
 country, for they have a horror of the conscription. 
 
 I 
 I
 
 I WILL now relate an adventui-e wliich brought me into 
 contact with two curious cbai'acters. 
 
 One day I was passing along one of the great roads 
 which border on the district, when I was attracted by an 
 old folio I saw lying on a little book stand which its 
 owner pitches on a particular spot twice a week, wheel- 
 ing it elsewhere on the other days, I had httle time to 
 spare, and was only able to open the folio and tm-n over a 
 page or t^^o, I saw at once it was a rare, if not a valu- 
 able, book, being the account of a journey through Italy, 
 Turkey, Egypt, and th-e Holy Land, with steel plates, 
 written in King James's time, with a dedication to his son, 
 Prince Heniy. 
 
 At that time, the man who kept the stall and I were 
 hardly acquainted. How much was the book? Four 
 and sixpence. I said I would take it, but I was going 
 away from my home at that moment, and on my return 
 in an hour or two I would claim it. 
 
 The hour or two, however, was spun out into six 
 hours, and when I called for the book, handing the man 
 its price, he said he had sold it. I thought, I said, you 
 were to have kept it for me, I did keep it for you for a time, 
 he replied, and twice rofused to sell it, but as you were so 
 long in returning I gave you up. All right, I said, quite 
 fair, but who bought it ? I can't tell you that, he said, 
 though I know the man by sight, as he often buys old 
 books of me : in fact, he is my best customer, but he is 
 a strange character, and I have no idea who he is, or 
 where he lives. 
 
 Well, I said, I wish jon could find out. I am curious 
 to see the book, as it gives a description of countries 
 
 D
 
 ( 34 ) 
 
 two or three hundred years ago, in some of which I 
 have myself travelled. All I wish to know is the exact 
 title of the book, which I did not catch in the morning. 
 
 It was arranged that I should call again in a week, 
 which I did. Have you found out who bought the book? 
 Yes, he has just been here, and his address is No. — 
 
 Road. That is his shop ; he lives opposite, in 
 
 Court, but you must be careful how you speak to 
 
 him, as he has a peculiar temper. 
 
 Well, I went to the shop indicated. It was a whole- 
 sale boot and shoe shop, and my new friend was the 
 manager and salesman. He was an old man with very 
 pinched features, and an eye that was never at rest, and 
 never looked me in the face. 
 
 I said, You bought a book last week which I believed I 
 had bought, as the man down the road has told you, and 
 I come to ask if you will let me see it. An interval of 
 silence, which my friend broke by making an observation 
 about Messrs. Moody and Sankey, who were then at the 
 Bow Road Hall holding their services. 
 
 I followed suit, and we discussed the subject for 
 perhaps five minutes, when I thought it time to try 
 my hand at the book once more. 
 
 Now, about this book, I said, you will of course let 
 me see it. "What is its title ? 
 
 But my friend doubled like a fox. Did you ever read 
 Boston's Fourfold State ? he asked. I have, I replied, 
 in part, at least ; I have the book. A remarkable book 
 that, he said. I have several hundreds of books like 
 that ; and then he went through a list of Puritan 
 theologians ; adding, Yes, I have all these and a number 
 of other curious old volumes that I don't think you or 
 anybody else has ever read. 
 
 I should like very much to see j^our library, I said. 
 Can't you take me over it with you some day ? 
 
 Well, he said, the fact is I live in a very humble way, 
 and quite alone with the Lord. So much the better 
 reason, said I, why I should come and spend an hour 
 with you some evening. 
 
 1
 
 ( 35 ) 
 
 He doubled again and got upon some other topic. Time 
 was pressing and I had engagements, so I bade him 
 good day, and said I would call again in a week ; upon 
 which he said he would be alwaj's happy to see me. 
 
 The week passed and I called again : but it was to 
 no purpose. Whenever I alluded to the book, he re- 
 minded me of the cuttle fish, and got into a fog which 
 1 could not penetrate. At last it dawned upon my mind 
 that he might be expecting me to make an ofi'er to re- 
 purchase the book ; but this did not seem likely, as he 
 had told me he collected books for pleasure and not for 
 profit. So I said, Do you think of selling the book ? 
 
 Evasiyeness again. Why so much mystery ? I said. 
 You see I wish to see the book, and will buy it if you 
 please. Why do you refuse to speak about it ? 
 
 The interview ended by his promising to let me see 
 the book next week. 
 
 I called again, and our palaver went on as before, but 
 there was no book forthcoming. He had lent it to 
 his brother, and would have it again soon. 
 
 I thought I would try another plan : not go to his 
 shop the week after, and so seem not to care further 
 about the book ; and thus I let a fortnight pass. 
 
 One day I again called and found he had received the 
 book back, but it was not forthcoming. He gave me his 
 word, however, that he would show it to me on the 
 following day. 
 
 When I called, still no book. 
 
 So I said. You and I have had a good many conversa- 
 tions, and from what you have said you have led me to 
 infer that your mind has been much given to religious 
 subjects. I cannot think that your reading has been of 
 profit to you, for all the religious sentiments in the world 
 will never make up for a want of respect to truth, and 
 unless you first show me that you can keep your word 
 as an honest man, I will not know what to think of you. 
 
 The efi'ect of this was instantaneous. He bolted out 
 of the shop like a shot from a gun, and left me alone. 
 In a few minutes he came back, puffing and blowing with 
 
 D 2
 
 ( 36 ) 
 
 the book, and gave it into my hand, saying I might keep 
 it for a month. 
 
 It turned out to be Sandys' Travels, begun in 1610, 
 and published in 1615. As it was in bad condition I 
 had it repaired, and at the end of the month returned 
 it, offering to buy it ; to no purpose, however. 
 
 Not long after, the shop was closed, and I was told my 
 friend had left the neighbourhood. One day I met him 
 coming out of the London Hospital looking very ill. He 
 said he was in a poor way, and had parted with most of 
 his books. Have you parted, I said, with the one I 
 wished to buy? I am sorry I have, he said ; I thought 
 of you and wished you to have it but I forgot where you 
 were to be found, and I was obliged to sell off my things. 
 
 Never mind, I said, I read the book, and if I wish to 
 refer to it again, I can always see it at the British 
 Museum. I asked him where he lived now, but he 
 evaded the question, and said something about his 
 brother. We parted, and I ha^e not fallen in with him 
 since. 
 
 The man who sold the book is almost as curious a 
 character as the shoe salesman. He was originally a 
 servant, and somehow got hold of a lot of books, which 
 determined his future way of life, for he took to attending 
 sales. He lives in a narrow street where one would 
 hardly expect to see a book of any kind, and there is no 
 sign over the door. He says he buys books by the yard 
 or hundred weight, and sells them at from twopence to 
 any sum apiece. The Greek and Latin books he gets 
 hold of would fill many shelves, but are mostly of 
 little value, and such as are unsaleable find their way to 
 the paper mills. Now and then, however, he brings me 
 a volume worth possessing. I have asked him, who buy 
 his books in such a locality, and his reply is that more 
 gentlemen and dealers than one would suppose visit his 
 store to see what he has, and his lighter books are 
 bought by artisans. 
 
 A blind man of my congregation does a large busi- 
 ness in sawdust. He is led by his little girl who
 
 ( 37 ) 
 
 drives the donkey to tlie saw mills where he buys 
 the article in bulk, retailing it at the wine houses and 
 shops where it is used. His mate, also blind, earns 
 a living by repairing cane chairs, and occasionally by 
 singing in the streets. 
 
 Both these men have had a good education, and assist 
 at the Penny Readings, as I will shortly relate. It is 
 astonishing how well they know their way about Lon- 
 don, for although the little girl leads them, this is 
 only for protection in crossing streets. They direct 
 the girl, not the girl them ; and they once led myself 
 and the choir to a church two miles off with the locality 
 of which none of us were acquainted. 
 
 Besides the trades and occupations I have mentioned, 
 jve have several others in the locality of a special cha- 
 racter. 
 
 I know a foreigner, whose business consists in import- 
 ing quails from Egypt for the London market. The ex- 
 tent of his operations may be judged of, by the amount of 
 a loss he incurred one inclement night by neglecting to 
 close the window of the back room in which he kept the 
 birds, and which his wife said came to about to £300. The 
 quails are imported in the flat trays covered with canvas, 
 which may be seen in the j)oulterers' shops of the West 
 End, and they require to be kept warm. The same m.an 
 imports also burnouses and lacquered ware of Egyptian 
 and Algerian manufacture, which find their way to the 
 fancy shops of Regent Street and Knightsbridge. 
 
 In another private house there is a manufactory of 
 eider-down and other quilts, which are turned out in 
 large quantities for the wholesale shops. The packing 
 of the down, which is exceedingly light, is, I am told, a 
 very nice operation. The packer is shut up in a small 
 room or closet void of furniture and free from draughts, 
 and there the cases are filled and sewn up preparatory 
 to being quilted. 
 
 One of my parishioners is a manufacturer and importer 
 of accordions, and of the instruments called banjos. His 
 only private customers, he says, consist of the so-called
 
 ( 88 ) 
 
 negro minstrels, who may be seen performing in the 
 public streets. His wholesale trade, however, is con- 
 siderable, as he sends parcels of goods to Australia, New 
 Zealand, and America. His instruments, in short, are, 
 according to his own account, known all over the world. 
 
 This reminds me of one of his customers who applied 
 for a loan of £5 at the local Office of the Charity Orga- 
 nization Society, that he might set up in what is called 
 the cheap jack business. He was a young man recently 
 married, and he brought favourable recommendations. 
 The ground of his application lay in the circumstance 
 that he had found the strolling '* nigger" business very 
 uncertain and precarious, and one besides that was ever 
 presenting temptations to drink, which he had not the 
 moral force to resist. The young man wished to em- 
 bark as a salesman of cheap cutlery and sham jewellery 
 at Stratford. He had a ready tongue and fair address, 
 and in consideration of his circumstances and recom- 
 mendations, the loan was granted on approved security. 
 For some time things went on fairly with him, and the 
 loan was in course of being repaid according to the agree- 
 ment. Ultimately, however, the business did not prove 
 remunerative, and our friend was obliged to return to his 
 old occupation, which I believe he still pursues, paying 
 off, however, his debt with fair regularity, and endeavour- 
 ing to keep free of the temptations peculiar to his 
 calling. 
 
 We have in the district several fur dressers and manu- 
 facturers who prepare seal and other skins for the regular 
 trade, and make them up into mantles and carriage and 
 hearth rugs. I am told that hare, rabbit, and cat skins, 
 are here curried, dyed and sewn together to form the 
 commoner sorts of muffs and tippets. 
 
 It will probably surprise the reader to be informed that 
 lithographed sermons are turned out in the locality. This 
 I learned from the agent who contracts with the author 
 for the supply of the contraband article, and who says 
 that the latter has subscribers to whom he sends dis- 
 courses to order, at the rate of half-a-crown a piece, the
 
 ( 39 ) 
 
 sum he pays for the lithographing being four or five 
 shilling per dozen copies. If this should fall into the 
 hands of any of the clergy who may be parties in the 
 transaction, the announcement may possibly induce them 
 to try in future to write their own sermons ; for should 
 their congregations ever come to suspect that what they 
 preached was composed by a bankrupt in the slums of 
 Stepney, they would be justly scandalized. 
 
 As I am on a subject suggestive of trickery and fraud, I 
 may mention that I know an industrious cabinet-maker 
 in whose shop I have often been, and who manufactures 
 old furniture out of worm-eaten oak to order. He had 
 once a cabinet which I took for a genuine antique, and 
 which he told me had been sold as such at a furniture 
 sale in the West End for a considerable sum. When the 
 old oak has not the holes bored by the natural worm, he 
 imitates them in a way to defy detection by ordinary 
 observers. 
 
 I have spoken about some of the day occupations of 
 our people. Let me relate also how some of them earn 
 their living by night. 
 
 One is an itinerant restaurateur, and has a little oil- 
 cloth tent, which he pitches at the corner of one of the 
 streets leading down to the Thames. Every night, about 
 eleven o^clock, he packs up his apparatus, consisting of a 
 stove, boiler, and lamp, together with tea and coffee, 
 bread and butter, and cakes which his wife manu- 
 factures, and takes up his station. I believe he does a 
 very fair business ; for, independently of the labourers 
 on great railway works, and the hands at factories, 
 where the steam must be kept up, there is more traffic 
 on these high roads during the night than is carried on 
 in most country towns during the day. In such a tent 
 you may see people sitting round the fire in the dead 
 hours, some of whom have probably no other place to 
 go to. This kind of lodging costs a penny, for that 
 is the price of a cup of coffee. 
 
 The old man who blows our organ is also a bird of the 
 night, and earns his living by calling people. He has a
 
 ( 40 ) 
 
 capital clock, set to Post-office time ; the only good one, 
 I should say, in the district. Every morning at one 
 o'clock, he rises at the sound of his alarum, and con- 
 tinues calling people till six or seven, walking over great 
 distances, for he has a good reputation as a punctual 
 caller. He tells me his occupation brings him into con- 
 tact v^ith the refuse of London, and that he has been often 
 assaulted. I have seen some of this scum myself, when 
 a fire by night in the neighbourhood has induced me to 
 go out. It is then one sees the " night side" of London 
 in all its ugliness. 
 
 Speaking of fires, they are quite a feature of this 
 region, especially during the winter months, and I have 
 only in Kussia observed a similar frequency. I have 
 heard it whispered that they are frequently the work of 
 incendiaries to defraud the Insurance Offices ; but this 
 may be only the gossip of the common people. 
 
 Although we have no white lead factories in the dis- 
 trict, some of my people work at this business outside ; 
 and more cadaverous -looking wretches I have seldom 
 seen. One poor woman especially, who was expecting 
 her confinement, excited my commiseration. She said 
 she was driven to this occupation to support her children, 
 her husband having left her. She was the colour of 
 white paint, and seemed as if she was poisoned, and 
 doubtless she was. This was a case I sent to the 
 Charity Organization Society ; and I believe I am right 
 in saying, that by means principally of their efforts, the 
 husband was brought back. At all events, the whole 
 family were sent to New Zealand. The man was Irish, 
 and was driven to desperation from inability to support 
 his wife and children as a hanger-on at the docks. 
 
 Concerning this white lead business, I suppose it is 
 conducted under regulations, but whatever these may be, 
 it is a deadly occupation for those who work at it, and 
 is said to be the final resort of the wretched.
 
 I WILL now say a few words about some of oiir boys. 
 
 Boys in tbis part of London need not go far to seek 
 work if they are able-bodied and tolerably sharj). They 
 soon get absorbed by the tremendous jaws of London 
 labour. Of my choir boys, one is employed in a whole- 
 sale stationer's, a second in a newspaper agency, a third is 
 with a printer, a fourth is apprenticed to a builder , a 
 fifth to a wholesale trunk maker, a sixth is a messenger, 
 and a seventh is with a druggist. Of the elder lads, one 
 is a Post Office sorter, another a railway porter, a third an 
 Australian meat dealer, another a carpenter, a fifth a 
 publican's man, and a sixth in a jewellery business. 
 
 They earn from six shillings to fifteen a week. Mr. S 
 
 who reads the lessons, is an optical turner. 
 
 One harum-scarum youth I took an interest in on 
 account of the trouble he gave, and which arose from 
 lack of a vent for his excess of animal spirits. His 
 parents and teachers did not know what to do with him, 
 and often whipped him, till my little friend turned truant, 
 and was lost for some days. Great was the parents' gi'ief ; 
 but I told them he would be sure to turn up again as 
 soon as he got hungry enough. And turn up again he 
 did in a few days, looking very crestfallen. 
 
 He told me the story of his running away. He was 
 tired of school, and with another boy stole on board a 
 ship at Wapping, hoping to be taken out some whither. 
 The ship sailed, but hunofer drove the lads out of their 
 hiding-place before the vessel had reached Blackwall, and 
 they were given a piece of bread and a good cuffing, and 
 then sent ashore. After this, I endeavoured to get the lad 
 put on board the Goliath, but for some reason he was 
 not qualified.
 
 ( 42 ) 
 
 He is now, however, doing well; and after trying 
 several places, among others a wholesale confectionery 
 warehouse, where he said he got cured of the taste for 
 sweetmeats, has become a vanman's boy on the Great 
 Eastern Eailway, for which his robust frame well qualifies 
 him. One day going through the City I heard my name 
 called out, and on looking up, I saw my friend driving 
 a pair of horses of elephantine dimensions, his red face 
 grinning with delight because I recognised him. 
 
 He is of great use on Sundays keeping order at the 
 church door ; and the street boys fear him more than any- 
 body else, as he shows them no mercy when he catches 
 them. He is a depositor in the Provident Fund, and his 
 mother says takes his earnings regularly home. 
 
 The lad I have mentioned above as being a railway 
 porter has sometimes curious stories to tell. As he did 
 not put in an appearance at Christmas, I inquired the 
 cause. He said the press of work throughout the week 
 had fairly knocked him up. Of holly, evergreens, and 
 Christmas-trees sixteen train loads had come to his 
 station in one day, and the hampers and parcels blocked 
 up the sheds and platforms. I observed a tear in his 
 coat. I am going to keep it as it is, he said. The rent 
 had been made by the step of an engine brushing by 
 which he had not observed in the fog, and '' if the coat 
 had not given way I would probably not have been here 
 speaking to you." In that case, I said, the coat is worth 
 preserving. I intend to keep it, he said, if I am allowed, 
 but our clothes are renewed once a year, the old ones 
 being sold to make shoddy. 
 
 The youth in the Post Office was also knocked up at 
 Christmas. He said the block at St. Martin's was ter- 
 rible. His hours are from 4 to 8 a.m. and from 4 to 
 8 p.m., but they are occasionally extended. 
 
 Another lad I take an interest in is an acrobat. His 
 composition is singular, his father being a Chinese and 
 his mother an Irishwoman. Should he have any family 
 himself their composition will be still more peculiar, as 
 he married a German girl last year, who lives by sing-
 
 ( 43 ) 
 
 ing. They both perform at the Pantomimes in tlis 
 winter, and dm*ing the summer exhibit in the Provinces. 
 Dandy says he was put to his business when he was 
 three years old, and as he has been twisting his 
 frame ever since, it is as supple as whalebone. He 
 once told me he was dead. I asked him what he meant. 
 Well, this way, he replied. I was going through the per- 
 formance on the trapeze one morning on the stage when 
 there was no one else in the theatre, and missing the bar fell. 
 My foot, however, was caught in a noose, and I hung head 
 downwards. I tried to work myself up again, but could 
 get no hold, and lost my senses. When I became 
 conscious I found I was in Guy's Hospital. How were 
 you freed from the noose ? I asked. Well, he said, as I 
 was hanging, some of the stage people came in and cut the 
 rope, and I fell to the ground. They thought I was 
 dead, as I was bleeding at the mouth, and I thought so 
 too. 
 
 I find this lad very useful when any small repair is 
 needed on the roof or bell turret, for he asks for no long 
 ladders, which are costly to hire, and require three or 
 four men to set up. A short ladder and a long rope are 
 sufficient for his purpose. His services are also called 
 into requisition on occasions of parochial excursions, 
 when his wife accompanies his antics and her own sing- 
 ing on an accordion. His harlequin dress which he 
 wears on such occasions is bespangled with silver. He 
 says it weighs nineteen pounds, and cost six pounds. In 
 the same house lives another youth, also a " tumbler,'* 
 as he calls himself. They concur in saying that their 
 life is a very hard and precarious one. In another lodg- 
 ing close by reside some '' sprites," as they are called, 
 — young women who figure in the transformation scenes 
 of the theatres. 
 
 We have two sea captains who attend the Church. 
 The former has retired from active service, and is a can- 
 didate for a Trinity House Pension. He sometimes 
 entertains the people at the Penny Headings by relating 
 some wonderful tale of the sea. The other captain had
 
 ( 44 ) 
 
 his sons put into the choir, and seldom misses a service 
 when in the Port of London. Besides these, a mate 
 of middle age puts in an appearance from time to 
 time. He does a little business on his own account in 
 tropical animals and birds, which he disposes of at the 
 markets. 
 
 I have been frequently asked whether I find any 
 marked spirit of scepticism or infidelity among the class 
 that I have to do with. 
 
 I do not. I have, indeed, only known one man whose 
 opinions on religious subjects were of this kind. He 
 was a smith, and forged iron work for ships. I made his 
 acquaintance by getting him to do some work at the 
 church. His circumstances were far above the average, 
 as he owned several houses. He has now retired from 
 business and left the district. 
 
 I have had many conversations with this man upon 
 religious topics, but without any result so far as I know. 
 His difficulty, he said, lay in his incapacity to com- 
 prehend the miracles of the Bible, which he ridiculed; 
 the efficacy of prayer, which he thought vain and useless ; 
 and the evidences of Christianity, which he said were no 
 evidences at all. The course of nature, he argued, was 
 unchangeable ; and so far as I could make out, he cast 
 in doubt even the existence of a Supreme Being. 
 
 I asked him whether he did not consider that the 
 Being who gave the world existence and laws — for he 
 admitted law — was able to interfere with the course of 
 nature on suitable occasions ? Certainly, he replied ; 
 but you have first to prove that there is such a Being, 
 and next, that interferences have really occurred. 
 
 Well, I said, the very existence of the world surely 
 proves the first, for the world could not have made itself ; 
 and the second rests upon testimony which I for one hold 
 to be credible and sufficient. Neither you, sir, nor I, nor 
 any other person, can know anything about these matters, 
 he replied. I beg your pardon, I said, you may speak 
 for yourself, but you have no right to speak for other 
 people. Do you say the world made itself, for if not, it
 
 ( 45 ) 
 
 must have been created, and if so, there is a Creator ? 
 I know nothing about it, he said. I will not take that 
 answer ; it is an absm-d and ridiculous one. I say I 
 know nothing about it, he repeated. I say you do, and 
 every child does. Now then, I said, you cast ridicule 
 upon prayer, and religion in general. Have you no 
 conception then, of a spiritual world outside of or beyond 
 the world of the senses ? Have you no ideas, for example, 
 about the soul and a future state ? 
 
 Of these, again he replied, I know nothing; but suppose 
 them to be figments of the priesthood '? Surely not, I 
 said, for ideas of the soul and of a future state are as old 
 as mankind. I see your doubts about religion, I added, 
 arise from want of instruction. You say, people can't 
 know matters of this kind. I say, they can and do, and if 
 they are willing to learn they may attain, God helping, to 
 knowledge sufficient for all purposes of practical duty in 
 this Kfe, and to the hope of eternal blessedness in the 
 life to come. I am too old to learn at my time of life, he 
 said. Not at all, I said. I will tell you what I will do 
 for you. I will undertake either by myself, or by the 
 help of others, to have your doubts about religion re- 
 moved, if you will honestly and fully state them, and yield 
 when you are convinced. He would never, however, come 
 to such close quarters ; and our long talks always ended 
 as we began them. 
 
 One day, at the close of last year, I met him in Aid- 
 gate, and we stopped and had a chat in the old manner, 
 but he was still in the same mind. His tone, however, 
 had lost its quality of ridicule, and perhaps he sometimes 
 thinks of what I said to him, for he told me I was the 
 first minister who had ever spoken with him. 
 
 Instances of this kind are, however, very rare among 
 the people with whom I have to do, who are generally 
 too much engrossed with the struggle for subsistence, or 
 too tlioughtless to form opinions upon such subjects for 
 themselves. Their reflections on religion, like those of 
 most other people, when they make any, run in the groove 
 carved for them by their teachers, whoever these may be.
 
 ( 46 ) 
 
 Who are these teachers ? Well, I take myself, of 
 course, to be one of them, and the teaching they receive 
 from me, I receive from my Church. But of course I 
 am able to reach but few among so great a number. 
 Many take their notions, I think, from preachers who 
 make religion to consist in certain states of feeling 
 rather than in the discharge of duty, and the keeping of 
 Grod's commandments ; and of such, one can only say that 
 if the state of feeling they urge and endeavour to impart 
 induces people to lead a better life, when they attain it, 
 one cannot but be thankful for the result. But I have 
 not found by experience that this result is attained in 
 this way. I cannot affirm it of my own knowledge, but 
 I am told by trustworthy persons, that the people who 
 attend theatres and music halls on Sundays where the 
 character of the preaching is sensational and highly 
 seasoned with appeals to the feelings, are the same who 
 go to the play or frequent the dancing on week days, and 
 attend the services by way of pastime. 
 
 Certain preachers are greatly advertised in the neigh- 
 bourhood, some on very curious grounds. One was 
 formerly a prize-fighter ; another is a converted gipsy 
 (I met him one day in Epping Forest on the occasion 
 of an excursion) ; of a third, I have heard it said that he 
 was advertised as being so much over or under, I forget 
 which, four feet high ; a fourth is a fiddler ; a fifth an 
 engine driver ; and a sixth had been in prison. 
 
 In time, however, this sensationalism palls upon the 
 palate, and it will probably work its own cure ; for the 
 people here are not devoid of common sense, and I have 
 heard them object to the familiar way in which these 
 preachers speak of things which deserve to be treated 
 with reverence. 
 
 The reason why this kind of excitement has become 
 so rampant is not far to seek. The work of the Church 
 of England in the East of London is of comparatively 
 recent date, and the population have been left for genera- 
 tions to their own devices. Meanwhile there can be little 
 doubt that the preachers here alluded to supply some- 
 
 <
 
 ( 47 ) 
 
 thing for which there is a demand, and endeavour to fill 
 ?. void ; for both they and their hearers seem to be, in a 
 ^ough way, groping after some truer and higher thing 
 than their daily life furnishes. 
 
 If we go back fifty years, it will be found that in 
 ihe part of East London comprising the parishes of 
 Stepney, Shoreditch, Bethnal Green, Limehouse, Spital- 
 fields, Whitechapel, Poplar, Wapping, Shadwell and St. 
 Greorge's-in-the-East, and containing a population of 
 upwards of 200,000, there were only ten churches. 
 Twenty years later, the population had increased to 
 nearly 290,000, but only two new churches had mean- 
 while been built, the whole chm-ch accommodation 
 in these twelve churches, every seat reckoned, being 
 16,000. 
 
 This was a generation ago ; and it is not to be wondered 
 at if the East of London became, in a great measure, lost 
 to the National Church. Nor do any serious attempts 
 to plant the Church of England among the masses who 
 were beyond the reach of the old establishments seem to 
 have been made until the time of Bishop Blomfield, 
 who built the churches in Bethnal Green, which are 
 associated with his name.* During these years, however, 
 of supineness on the part of the Church of England, the 
 Nonconformist bodies were not indifi'erent to the needs 
 of the population.! 
 
 * There are at present in the parishes above-named 65 churches 
 and 8 missions, the population being 645,964. 
 
 t For the following pedigree of the Churches of East London I 
 am indebted to Mr. Price, of the East London Observer Office, who is 
 bringing out a book upon the subject. Parent-church, St. Dunstan's, 
 then Whitechapel and Bow, both in the 14th century ; then St. 
 Matthias, Poplar, and Shadwell Church, both about 1650 ; then St. 
 John's, Wapping, 1694 ; then Christ Church, Spitalfields, St. 
 Anne's, Limehouse, and St. George's, Middlesex, in Queen Anne's 
 time ; tben Bethnal Green parish church, 1743. St. Philip's, 
 Stepney, and St. John's, Bethnal Green, were built in 1819 and 1820, 
 as chapels of ease to their respective parish churches. These were 
 followed in 1839 by Bishop Blomfield's churches, and later by the 
 churches of this generation. Of Nonconformist places of worship 
 the earliest was Stepney Meeting 1641 ; then Bethnal Green, 1670 ; 
 then Gravel Lane, 1680 ; and later Sion Chapel, 1790.
 
 I WILL now say a few words about our own services. 
 These are poorly attended in the morning, but very fairly 
 in the evening, while on festival occasions the Church is 
 filled, and strangers who have happened to be present 
 have expressed surprise at seeing such gatherings in so 
 poor a church. A hearty and edifying service is what 
 is aimed at. As the people are partial to music, we 
 endeavour to supply it as well as our means will allow, 
 and any deficiency in the choir is made good by the con- 
 gregation themselves. 
 
 I have been frequently asked whether I find what is 
 called a High Church or a Low Church service most suit- 
 able ; but I am unable to make a distinct reply. The 
 services at St. Augustine's were conducted chorally at their 
 commencement ; and, so far as I know, they have never 
 been materially altered. Whether a plain read service 
 would attract people better, I have not tried to discover; 
 for so long as matters issue in a fair degree of edification 
 and reverence, I am not disposed to make any experi- 
 ments. From indications which I have observed, I judge 
 that the poor, to a greater degree even than other classes, 
 like a hearty service, and I am sure they would not attend 
 a dull one; a service, I mean, performed as if it were a task 
 of ofiicial routine. As for a greater or a smaller number 
 of ceremonies, my impression is that they are indifferent 
 on the subject. 
 
 I may add that no attempt is made to bribe the 
 people to come to church, unless efforts to make the 
 service hearty and attractive be counted as such. It 
 would not be difficult here to fill the seats by holding 
 out rewards in various shapes, but any such system 
 would only issue in pretence and hypocrisy. 
 
 I
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 As regards what is called Church feeling in the district, 
 I am at a loss to say whether it exists to any gi'eat extent 
 or not, for I believe that the sentiments the people enter- 
 tain towards the Mission are independent of the denomi- 
 nation to which it belongs. They have a personal re- 
 gard for those who are connected with it, and we have 
 not thought that much good w^ould be Hkely to result 
 from pressing ** Churchism," as if it was the ouly thing 
 to benefit them. 
 
 It has been fi*equently alleged that the Church of 
 England ser\'ices are unsuitable to the poor, and cer- 
 tain it is that in numbers of parishes the labouring 
 classes are conspicuous by their absence from the church. 
 The cause of this, however, is not, I believe, connected 
 with th« character of the s-ervice, or with the preach- 
 ing of any particular clergyman, but is to be looked for 
 in social considerations. The Church of England has 
 hardly any enemy so destnictive of its influence as 
 the system of pews and appropriated sittings, and until 
 this system is abolished, it will repel, rather than at- 
 tract the poor, who are either too modest or too proud to 
 intrude into places which people better off than them- 
 selves have fitted up for their own use. As for getting 
 the working classes to occupy the seats usually labelled 
 free, the idea may be dismissed as nonsensicaL 
 
 The people, however, distinguish in their own way 
 between the Church of England and other religious 
 denominations, Th-ey think of the fonner as pos- 
 sessed of wealth and power, and of its ministers as 
 respectable, by roason of their education and the regard 
 they generally show to the poor. What they think of 
 the latter, I cannot say, except that against the Roman 
 Catholics they entei-tain an inherited prejudice. 
 
 To return, how^ever, to our services at St, Augustine's. 
 
 As regards sermons, the plainer and more practical they 
 are the better, for this is no place for conventional phrases, 
 to which it is often not intended that a strict meaning 
 is to be attached. I have been often not a little 
 entertained when I have seen the expression on the 
 
 E
 
 ( 50 ) 
 
 faces of stranger preachers, of whom we have had from 
 time to time about fifty among us. They have generally 
 brought a written sermon in a neat velvet case, but as 
 they see no pulpit, they look puzzled, more especially when 
 they behold the congregation. I know what they are 
 thinking — *' This sermon will never do, and as for the 
 velvet case, it is quite out of place, for there is no cushion 
 to lay it on." Back goes the sermon into the pocket, 
 and a Bible is taken up, and an extempore address is 
 evidently in preparation. 
 
 The result justifies my suspicions, and an excellent 
 sermon concludes the service. It is only, however, fair 
 to the congregation to say that their marked attention 
 puts the preacher upon his mettle, and often makes him 
 eloquent in the best sense of the word. 
 
 I have been frequently asked whether the inhabitants 
 of my district are in any marked degree of the criminal 
 class, and I have replied, certainly not. 
 
 I hear, indeed, occasionally of shocking fights, in which 
 the knife is freely used. From time to time, also, I meet 
 men evidently returning from the wars, and women with dis- 
 hevelled hair and blackened eyes. This only takes place, 
 however, at holiday times, when some of the people break 
 out in a manner unusual to their ordinary way of 
 living. 
 
 A proof that the population is more civilized than it 
 used to be, arises out of the circumstance that we are now 
 able to hold our services and various meetings in peace, 
 and that the Mission women and lady visitors never com- 
 plain of rudeness. Some years ago a lady could hardly 
 pass through the streets unmolested, and brickbats used to 
 be thrown into the church. When I first joined the 
 district, "rows" at the entrance were so frequent that the 
 services of a poHceman were often called into requisition, 
 and all our meetings were liable to be disturbed by out- 
 siders. Since then, however, the black looks I used to 
 observe in many quarters have given way to a pleased 
 expression of face, and the windows are very rarely 
 broken. In stating this, however, it is fair to add that
 
 ( 51 ) 
 
 to save glaziers' bills the lower panes in the church were 
 boarded up two years ago, and that there still exists a 
 mischief- working gang, ready for any adventure. 
 
 I am toll, also, that certain houses are let out to dis- 
 reputable women, and I have fallen in with such when an 
 early morning service has taken me through some of the 
 slums. On such occasions they have appeared in a state 
 of helpless intoxication, lying in the doorways of houses, 
 covered with mud, the very pictures of shame and degra- 
 dation. 
 
 One's pen recoils from describing scenes of this kind. 
 But let the truth be told. I suppose every locality has its 
 own share of vice, and this locality is not worse than 
 others. But when vice shows its face here it shows a 
 very ugly one. If the face of vice were everywhere as 
 shocking, it would furnish its own best antidote. 
 
 Of public houses the district possesses twelve ; though 
 outside there are many more, and on a much grander 
 scale. The public houses, indeed, in the East of London 
 appear to be both more numerous and more attractive 
 than they are in other quarters. 
 
 It is interesting to know that the people in the 
 district indulge in a little w^ine. I say a little, for the 
 consumers, I am told, are mostly old people or invalids. 
 The manager of a wine business in the vicinity told me 
 that the day before Christmas he sold upwards of £60 
 worth of port and sherry in small quantities, his average 
 daily receipts amounting to £5 from the sale chiefly of 
 penny and twopenny glasses. 
 
 As regards food, the supply of all eatables is enor- 
 mous. Fish is cheap, whether at the stalls or cooked ; 
 and upon fish mainly many seem to subsist, meat 
 being reserved for the Sunday dinner. Fruit is also most 
 abundant, and excellent. 
 
 One would hardly expect to find the labouring popula- 
 tion indulging themselves in turkeys and oysters. Con- 
 versing, however, one day wdth a shopkeeper who sells 
 fish, fruit, and poultry, I asked him who purchased 
 his turkeys and fowls, and he replied, mechanics. Pre- 
 
 E 2
 
 ( 52 ) 
 
 sently a very ragged woman came in and gobbled up half 
 a dozen oysters, for which she paid ninepence. 
 
 I have often had occasion to observe the lavishness with 
 which money is spent by some of the labouring classes. 
 One fine summer's day I accompanied a party on an excur- 
 sion to Hunstanton in Norfolk. There we found that 
 ample provision had been made for a thousand persons. 
 Unfortunately the day turned out wet, and the excur- 
 sionists were driven under what cover was obtainable. 
 Many spent the afternoon in the taproom of the inn ; and 
 when evening came were not fit to walk to the train. 
 
 Our parochial excursions are not, however, abused in 
 this way, although on these occasions, also, the people 
 are frequently lavish in their expenditure. Against this, 
 however, it is to be set that their holidays in the country 
 are few and far between, and when they do come round 
 they are made the very most of. 
 
 I have mentioned several ladies who help me in my 
 work, and I should like to add the names of Miss C. E. 
 Arkwright, the Countess Brownlow, Miss Laura Oldfield,* 
 and the Hon. Miss Scott. The former has kindly visited 
 a number of sick cases. Miss Scott, acting as deputy 
 for Lady Selborne, has done much in helping at the Mo- 
 thers' Meetings ; while to Lady Brownlow the poor have 
 been indebted for entertainments over which she has 
 presided at the Mission House. 
 
 * Since this was in the press, Miss Oldfield has been removed by 
 death. She was a person of conspicuous ability and piety, and her 
 loss to the Parochial Mission Women Fund will not be easily supplied. 
 It is understood that she was the " Lady Manager," who wrote Mrs. 
 Elliott's Memoirs mentioned at pape 18 of this narrative.
 
 I^S^^^^S 
 
 M^m 
 
 l^^^&ifa iii^iiji i,iK 
 
 ^|^^«Ov.-.: --; 7/rr- : • 
 
 Although this narrative is intended mainly as a record 
 of my own experience in the work of my Mission district, 
 it will not, I believe, be out of place to institute a com- 
 parison between the East of London and the West, as 
 some statistics which I have before me fully account for 
 the remarkable differences existing between these t^vo 
 regions of the metropolis. 
 
 The part of East London I have selected for the com- 
 parison, and which may be regarded as an intensified and 
 gigantic '^poorer part" in a Western District, consists 
 of the parishes of Shoreditch, Bethnal Green, White- 
 chapel, St. George' s-in-the-East, Stepney, Mile End Old 
 Town, and Poplar. With this I will compare a nearly 
 equal area of West London, comprising Kensington, Pad- 
 dington, Chelsea, St. George's, Hanover Square, and 
 the so-called Westminster Union, including St. James', 
 Piccadilly, and St. Anne's, Soho. The acreage of the 
 former of these areas is 6347, and of the latter 6*230 
 acres; the population of the first being 495,119, and of 
 the second, 648,928. 
 
 From these statistics, it appears that the population 
 of the Eastern area exceeds that of the Western by 
 153,809, and that the householders in the East are more 
 numerous than those in the West, by 16,965, and^the 
 houses by 24,935. To estimate what this means, we 
 may conceive all the houses and all the people of a town 
 like Bristol or Halifax, or all the houses and all the people 
 of a county like Buckingham or Bedford, transplanted to 
 the West of London, filling the Parks and Squares, in 
 order to form an idea of what would be required to make
 
 ( 54 ) 
 
 the West balance the East of London in respect of houses 
 and population. 
 
 Again, in the Western area, the rateable value is up- 
 wards of £5,000,000, in the Eastern not half of that 
 sum. In the West upwards of ^£500, 000 are raised in 
 rates and expended upon the poor; in the East, the 
 poor rates reach about £380,000, and the expenditure 
 £420,000. 
 
 The amount of the poor rate in the West is about Is. Sd.y 
 against 3s. in the East. In the West there are three 
 paupers to every hundred of the population ; in the East 
 five to every hundred ; and to about 2000 beggars appre- 
 hended in 1873 in the West, there were only 200 in the 
 East. Again, while in the West there are about thirteen 
 houses and 106 persons to an acre of ground, in the East 
 there are eighteen houses and 144 persons. In the 
 West seven persons on an average dwell in each house, 
 while eight dwell in each house in the East. 
 
 The rateable value per acre in the West is £1000, and 
 in the East less than one-half. The rateable value of 
 each house in the West, is about £70 ; in the East 
 about £24. 
 
 There are besides ninety Public Institutions in the 
 West inhabited by 15,000 inmates, against sixty in the 
 East, with about 10,000 inmates ; and 500 Agencies for 
 Relief connected with Churches, Chapels, and Charitable 
 Associations in the West, against 300 in the East. The 
 Charity Organization Society dealt with upwards of 
 4000 cases in the West in 1874, at an expenditure of 
 about £5,300 ; and with about 1500 in the East, at an 
 expenditure of £1200.* 
 
 There were, at the taking of the last census in 1871, 
 nearly 30,000 professional residents in the West ; the 
 same class in the East not reaching a third of that 
 number. To nearly 9000 persons of rank and property 
 in the West, there are but 1900 in the East. To nearly 
 70,000 domestic servants in the West, there were under 
 
 * Since then two new committees have been formed, namely, 
 St. George's in the East, and Mile End Old Town.
 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 20,000 in the East, most of them, probably, girls under 
 age; and to 115,000 engaged in commercial business 
 resident in the West, there were but 38,000 of the same 
 class in the East. On the other hand, the East had 
 160,000 artisans and labourers, as against 110,000 in 
 the West ; about 7000 inmates of workhouses as against 
 4000; and 600 inmates of hospitals, as against 1700 
 in the West. 
 
 The Eegistrar of Friendly Societies, in his last Report, 
 gives a list of 104 Lodges or Societies in the five 
 Western Parishes, owning funds to the amount of 
 £150,000, and numbering 45,000 members ; while in 
 the seven Eastern Parishes there were 152 Societies, 
 owning funds to the amount of £73,000, and numbering 
 about 1300 members. Besides these were 31 Societies 
 in the West possessing another sum of £150,000 ; and 
 48 Societies in the East possessing £23,000, of which 
 the number of members was not returned. This will 
 make a total of 135 Lodges and Societies in the West, 
 with funds amounting to £300,000, as against 200 in the 
 East, with funds amounting to about £100,000. On 
 a rough calculation Liverpool, which has a population of 
 500,000, possesses 250 Friendly Societies, number- 
 ing about 120,000 members, and owning upwards of 
 £200,000. 
 
 As regards Church of England statistics, it appears 
 that, while in the Western Parishes there are 95 Churches 
 with 214 clergy, there are in the East only 65 Churches 
 and 128 clergy. This gives one church for every 5200 
 of the population in the West, as against one for every 
 10,000 in the East, and one clergyman for 2300 in the 
 West, as against one for upwards of 5000 in the East. 
 As regards places of Worship not in connection with the 
 Church of England, cm-iously enough, there are 75 in 
 each, with the same number of ministers. I omit edu- 
 cational statistics, as I believe the School Board opera- 
 tions have probably by this time resulted in supplying 
 equally both the regions under our consideration. 
 
 The statistics comparing the married and the unmar-
 
 ( 56 ) 
 
 ried, widowers and widows, and Births, Marriages, and 
 Deaths in the two Districts, are curious. Here are the 
 Tables. 
 
 In the Western District there were on the night of 
 the Census in 1871 : — 
 
 Married Couples. Unmarried. Widowers. 
 
 90,000 Males 70,OeO Males 8,000 
 Females 110,000 Females 28,500 
 
 In the Eastern District. 
 110,000 Males 70,000 Males 10,000 
 Females 60,000 Females 28,000 
 
 In the West. 
 
 Eegistered in 10 years, 1860-70. 
 Births. Marriages. Deaths. Excess. 
 
 155,100 52,200 115,000 40,100 
 
 In the East. 
 239,300 68,200 162,000 77,300 
 
 These statistics, besides being interesting in them- 
 selves, account for much of the difference existing in the 
 condition of society in the two areas.* 
 
 Of course, in so large a region as that of East London 
 some parts are much more favoured than others in respect 
 of the character of the population, their dwellings, the 
 width of the streets, and the more facile access to open 
 spaces of recreation ; but some peculiarities are common 
 to the whole district. 
 
 Not only are there no gentry, but the chief employers of 
 labour have ceased to reside ; and the professional class 
 being too insignificant in number to balance the lower 
 class, a social picture is presented, unique, so far as I 
 know, on so large a scale in this aristocratic country. 
 
 * Owing to the form in which the Police Statistics are made up, it 
 is very difficult to obtain any comparison as to the amount of crime 
 in the two Districts.
 
 ( 57 ) 
 
 The landlords of the public-houses are here in the 
 position of leaders, and not without reason ; for they are 
 often rich and influential, and are connected besides by 
 many ties with the labouring classes. The public-houses 
 are identified with the working men's Christmas and 
 other Clubs, Lodges, Unions, and Provident Societies, 
 and above all with their Leads, or Funeral Benefits.* 
 
 The population, in short, is a congeries, without back- 
 bone or organic connection, of labourers in all the trades 
 nearly under the sun ; a concentration of human beings 
 engaged in the ceaseless toil which fills our shops with 
 almost every variety of commodity, and constructs our 
 railways, ships, and telegraphs. 
 
 There are, of course, other residents, in some places in 
 considerable numbers, of the middle classes. Besides the 
 parochial clergy, ministers, doctors, and lawyers, are 
 city clerks, shop and store-keepers, ojB&cials connected 
 with the parishes, docks, and customs, overseers of 
 breweries, distilleries, and engine works, and managers 
 of all degrees and orders in the ship-building, sugar- 
 baking, match-making, and a hundred other important 
 industries. 
 
 But all these taken together form but a small fraction 
 of the total population ; which, looked upon as a whole, 
 presents a nearly uniform level of human life, in not the 
 most attractive form ; one part of East London only 
 differing from another in the specific character of the 
 labour of its inhabitants. 
 
 * A Lead is a benefit party. When a husband or wife or child dies, 
 or any misfortune befalls, the family invite the friends to meet at a 
 public house. Each ticket costs 6d. or Is., and the profits go to pay 
 the funeral expenses, which are frequently very considerable, or to 
 make up the loss incurred by the misfortune. 
 
 It may be mentioned here that the substance of this chapter formed 
 a paper which was read at the Council of the Charity Organization 
 Society about two years ago.
 
 I HAVE allowed my pen to run on much farther than 
 I at first intended. I have still, however, a little to 
 say, and will, therefore, go back to pick up the thread 
 of my story about the progress of the Mission. 
 
 I have given some account of the institutions esta- 
 blished by my predecessor, and will add a few more words 
 as to what I have attempted myself. 
 
 A year after I had been at the Mission I started a 
 reading room in the Mission House. The plan was 
 to afford some counter attraction to the beershops. 
 The subscription was to be a penny a week, and a cup of 
 coffee was to be supplied for the same sum. Three 
 months' trial, however, was sufficient to show that the idea 
 had not been appreciated, and the books and magazines 
 were transferred to the Sunday School Library, to be lent 
 out for reading at home. This plan answered better ; 
 and to judge by the demand, a taste for reading is 
 cherished in the district. In this process, however, a 
 good many books are not returned, and the library is be- 
 coming smaller every year. 
 
 About the same time I entered into a negotiation with 
 the London School Board, with the view of hiring one of 
 the rooms in their new building for a Sunday School. 
 Their terms, however, were beyond my reach, the rent 
 they asked being £28 10s., exclusive of firing, light, and 
 expenses for cleaning. The room was afterwards taken 
 for the same purpose by a City clergyman, who has given 
 his services on Sunday afternoons to St. Augustine's, 
 until such time as the district may be efficiently set up. 
 Meanwhile the old Sunday School is continued in the 
 church as heretofore, with a reduced number of scholars.
 
 ( 59 ) 
 
 At this time also a site was offered for a permanent 
 church ; and I wrote to Mr. Wright, the secretary of the 
 Bishop of London's Fund, who at once sent down two 
 gentlemen to survey it. The Bishop expressed an earnest 
 desire that the design laight be carried out, and the fol- 
 lowing clergymen gave me permission to use their names 
 in the prospectus which it was proposed to issue : — 
 Bishop Piers Claughton, Lord Alwyne Compton, Canon 
 Liddon, the Kev. A. Blomfield, the Kev. B. Belcher, the 
 Rev. S. E. Gladstone, and the Rev. J. S. Hilliard. The 
 Rector of St. Dunstan's also expressed his willingness to 
 help. The negotiations, however, fell through, and the 
 site was bought by a tradesman. 
 
 The Penny Reading movement has been a great suc- 
 cess, and very fertile, I think, of wholesome results. At 
 the outset I engaged accomplished readers, reciters, 
 and musicians ; but the difficulty of securing a regular 
 supply of these soon made itself felt. I, therefore, one 
 evening told the audience that they would have to depend 
 for the future more upon themselves for their own en- 
 tertainment, adding that I was open to any reasonable 
 offers. The result was, than an amount of local talent 
 was developed of which I had no idea ; and the people 
 themselves now supply the elements necessary for a 
 couple of hours' entertainment ; one young woman 
 being an exceptionally good reciter, another an ex- 
 cellent singer, and a third a pianiste. As for readers, 
 more offer their services than we can often employ. I 
 have observed that fables interest the people more almost 
 than any other kind of reading, and that a recitation well 
 done is rewarded with much applause. 
 
 We have occasionally, a missionary meeting which 
 is well attended, especially when some one joins who 
 can speak from his own experience ; and in order to 
 cultivate an interest in efforts of Christian benevolence 
 sermons are annually preached and collections made for 
 various religious and charitable purposes outside the 
 district. 
 
 Last year I established a depot for the sale of Bibles
 
 ( 60 ) 
 
 and Prayer Books, and issued at the same time an 
 Almanac with local information. Bibles and Praj^er 
 books used to be often asked for, and there was no sho]j 
 in the immediate neighbourhood where they could be par- 
 chased ; the only accessible literature, indeed, consisting 
 of the penny and halfpenny newspapers. 
 
 It was intended, this winter, to form a coal club, but 
 illness has unfortunately prevented the lady whose idea it 
 was from putting the plan into execution; as also a creche, 
 which would be of great use, and which I would be glad 
 if some one would start. 
 
 As regards the administration of relief to the poor and 
 the sick ; this is mostly left in the hands of the visitors 
 and the Mission nurse, who has always on her list several 
 chronic and other cases, and whose ministrations are 
 much appreciated by the poor. Were it not, indeed, for 
 such attention, great misery would often be endured. 
 The medical attendants have frequently failed to recog- 
 nise their patients on repeating their visits after the 
 nurse has been called in to make them comfortable. I 
 ought to have mentioned regarding the nurse, that she 
 has been transferred from the staff of the East London 
 Nursing Society to that of the National and Metropolitan 
 Nursing Association, which I trust will prove as valuable 
 a helper. 
 
 In cases where it is found that a larger sum than the 
 Mission funds can afford would be the most suitable form 
 of assistance in any particular case, resort is had to the 
 Local Committee of the Charity Organization Society, 
 an agency which promises to be of the highest value, 
 and for whose operations East London affords an almost 
 boundless field. Hospital letters are supplied by the 
 Lord Mayor ; and for cases of convalescents we gladly 
 avail ourselves of Mrs. Gladstone's Home at Woodford, 
 for which we have never lacked cards of admission. 
 
 As this Paper would be incomplete without an in- 
 dication of what it is proposed still, God willing, to ac- 
 complish in the district, there remain a few paragraphs 
 to be added.
 
 ( 61 ) 
 
 It is proposed, then, as soon as practicable, to proceed 
 with the building of a permanent Church, and a perma- 
 nent Mission House, the latter occupying the site of 
 the present makeshift place of worship, which will 
 hardly bear further patching, any more than the present 
 Mission House, which has besides become too confined for 
 the increasing work of the district. 
 
 The question has been often put to me. Can you not 
 endeavour to obtain for your district one of the disused 
 City churches ? This is exactly what I believe ought to 
 be the solution of the difficulty in providing the new 
 church. There is an objection, however, to this course 
 which I feel strongly, and it is this. Supposing an old 
 city church were brought hither, its patronage would 
 natm-ally come with it, and the mission clergyman would 
 probably be put upon the shelf ; for in the Church of Eng- 
 land the rights of patrons, that is, of property, seem often 
 to be of more account than the rights of human beings. 
 I should not be surprised, therefore, if it were found a 
 lesser difficulty to build the church by means of subscrip- 
 tions. Some agitation is at present going on regarding 
 the City churches, but it may take years before it culmi- 
 nates in any practical result, and there are other matters 
 involved, Sion College, for example, which require revision 
 and amendment likely to be strongly resisted. It seems 
 unreasonable that the whole body of the London clergy 
 should not share its advantages, whatever they are ; for 
 not being a member, I am ignorant of its nature. I have 
 been indeed asked on two or three occasions to attend 
 meetings at the College, and have heard there is a good 
 library there, the benefits of which I might enjoy on 
 subscribing as an outsider ; which, however, I have 
 declined doing, it not being obvious why I should be 
 asked to pay a tax which I believe the authorities have 
 no right whatsoever to levy. 
 
 To return, however, to St. Augustine's. That a church 
 is needed in the district, what I have already said has 
 I think, demonstrated; and this being so, the rest 
 becomes a question of ways and means ; though not
 
 ( 62 ) 
 
 quite an easy and obvious one, as it is not at present 
 apparent whence these are to be derived. 
 
 The lowest cost at which a church, a mission house, 
 and a parsonage might be provided, could not probably 
 be stated at less than ten or twelve thousand pounds. 
 But be this as it may, it seems to be the duty of the 
 Church of England to see that the thing is done ; and 
 if that Church had been properly organized, and had 
 discharged its obligations as the national religious teacher 
 which it claims to be, it would have been done long ago. 
 It will be my duty at all events to press the matter as 
 long as I have a concern in it, and when I leave the dis- 
 trict to commend it to my successor. 
 
 Other improvements are contemplated in the district, 
 which will not come a day too soon. Dr. Corner, the 
 medical officer of health, reports many of the houses 
 as in a wretched state; although it is a moot point whether 
 they come under Section 3 of the Home Secretary's 
 Artisans' Dwelling Act. 
 
 The houses were built decades of years ago out of old 
 materials, which are now mostly worn out, and many of 
 them can never have been suitable for human habitations, 
 some of the streets being not more than nine feet wide, 
 and the rooms of the houses than nine feet square. The 
 cellars, called by courtesy kitchens, are mostly so damp 
 as to give the people who live in them rheumatism 
 and bronchitis. It is high time that these dwellings 
 should be superseded by new ones laid out on a new 
 plan, with intervening spaces for the children, who are 
 compelled at present to make the streets their play- 
 ground. 
 
 The locality, from its proximity to the City, the docks, 
 and other centres of labour, will probably always attract 
 the poorer classes, as it has done heretofore ; for I have 
 observed that no sooner is a house, however wretched, 
 vacated, than it is retaken, and lodgings are very rarely 
 to be obtained, — theii* rents varying from two to five 
 shillings a week. 
 
 But it is time to conclude.
 
 ( 63 ) 
 
 I am aware that the work I have been describing is 
 similar in its details to what is pursued in many dis- 
 tricts besides this, both in London and in other large 
 towns ; and I do not claim for my district that it has made 
 any particular progress beyond others in like circum- 
 stances. I am, indeed, too well aware how much has 
 been left undone that might have been done, and how 
 much remains still to be accomplished that only the co- 
 operation of a number of agencies can effect. A narrative, 
 however, such as I have here set down, is not always 
 easily attainable ; and I hope it may be read with some 
 degree of interest, as showing how good may be wrought 
 by the appHcation of well-considered methods, pursued 
 long enough with energy and patience, even in localities 
 which may at first sight seem too low and degraded 
 for much expectation to be entertained of their 
 improvement. 
 
 In districts like this, social reforms must go hand in 
 hand with religion, if any permanent benefit is to result ; 
 and the' clergyman is called to be a teacher of the rudi- 
 ments almost of civilisation before he can properly 
 exercise the functions of his office as a preacher of the 
 Gospel. The reception of the latter implies that the 
 policeman, that is law, has brought about a certain order 
 in society, and this order must be in existence before the 
 Gospel can come with its divine message to mankind. 
 This was the history of the spread of Christianity in the 
 early ages, and it is its history now, among uncivilized 
 nations. 
 
 To bring about social reform, however, among our 
 long-neglected population of labouring poor, machinery 
 is required to facilitate its gi'owth and development. 
 This machinery consists in improved ways of living, 
 which induce self-respect, sobriety, and attention to the 
 common laws of health and temporal well-being ; and 
 comprises better dwellings, schools, and any other agencies, 
 whereby the good of the population may be promoted. 
 
 This narrative will prove, at least, that even the most 
 unattractive fields of a clergyman's labour may yield a
 
 ( 64 ) 
 
 harvest rich in interest, and let us hope in results ; and 
 that even, with what may be considered very inadequate 
 machinery, a good deal may be done to promote religion 
 and education, in a word. Christian civilization, among 
 the lower classes of our people. 
 
 Much of course is required to be undertaken by the 
 clergyman, which does not strictly come within his 
 sphere as commonly understood. But it is difficult to 
 see how he can discharge his proper functions in such 
 localities unless he endeavours, by all the means at his 
 disposal, to promote at the same time the temporal and 
 social well-being of his parishioners. The problem 
 before him is an exceedingly difficult and complex one, 
 and only experience can show how it may best be solved. 
 One thing seems clear, that there is room for every 
 variety of religious and benevolent effort among such 
 populations as the East of liondon contains ; and I will 
 only add that it is exceedingly desirable thst clergymen 
 in such a district should be freed from some of the 
 burdens which they have, under present circumstances, 
 to bear, so that they may discharge better their spiritual 
 office. 
 
 London : Swift & Co., Newton Street, High Holborn, W.C.
 
 SR«