CHAPTER VII.
among the presbyterians.
At Colebrook Row.
Innovations are the order of the day. New times and altered circumstances require them. In Christian work they are imperatively required. While the Church has folded its arms and slept, while people have been lulled to ease and carelessness by the respectability of Church life and the wealth of professors, while pastors and ecclesiastical authorities have found satisfaction in the observance of ancient order and in the routine of established work, all at once there comes to them a cry that the heathen are outside of them, blaspheming the name they love, ignorant of the Gospel tidings, perishing in their sin and crime and misery at their very doors. John Wesley wrote how, in the latter end of the year 1739, eight or ten persons came to him in London, who appeared to be deeply convinced of sin, and earnestly groaning for redemption. They desired that he would spend
some time with them in prayer, and advise them how to flee from the wrath to come. In our time the curtain has been lifted up, and the devout and earnest Christianity of the day has stood face to face with the unbelief which, by ignoring the existence of a heavenly Father, and robbing humanity of its loftiest hopes and deepest consolations, left the masses in our crowded cities to live and die like brutes. The revelation has raised up in many quarters a feeling that something more has to be done than has yet been done, that the Church, to discharge its mission aright, needs a more earnest consecration of the heart, a less formal modus operandi, a freer utterance, a less stiff and starch and time-worn manifestation of Christian life.
In accordance with this feeling, one Sunday evening there was a novel service in the Presbyterian church, Colebrook Row, of which the Rev. J. Thain Davidson is pastor. The night itself was one of the most unfortunate that could have been selected for that or for any other experiment. London people have a great, and, let me add, a natural objection to wet weather. If it rains hard it offers them a good excuse for stopping at home. They do not like to spoil their Sunday clothes, and they have a great aversion to
bronchial affections. In this respect the Scotchman contrasts favourably with the Englishman. In such places as Edinburgh or Glasgow the churches are as well attended in bad weather as in fine. If it were so in London how many a pastor’s heart would rejoice! At Colebrook Row they are Presbyterians, and in England we naturally presume Presbyterians to be Scotchmen—at any rate, this must be the case as regards the attendance at Colebrook Row. On Sunday evening the place was crammed. I did not see a seat anywhere to spare, nor did I see a hearer who did not seem to take the deepest interest in what was going on.
Well, and what was going on?—a thing I should think never seen in a Presbyterian place of worship before. It appears that the services in the Agricultural Hall just by have led to an increased demand for religious agency in that district. Hundreds who attend no place of worship have now been induced to do so. Hundreds who were careless about religion have now become concerned. Hundreds who a short while ago would have refused the gift of a tract, and would have shut their doors in the face of a Christian visitor, are now ready to receive the one and to listen to the viva voce instruction of the other. Naturally,
the appeal is made to Mr. Davidson, but his own duties in connexion with his church and congregation leave him no time to spare. A fund raised partly by Mr. Davidson’s own people, and partly by the liberality of a private individual, has enabled the London City Mission to send an agent to labour in connexion with the services at the Agricultural Hall. But, after all, one man in such a multitude can do but little, and on Sunday evening Mr. Davidson, instead of preaching a sermon, organized, as it were, a public meeting,—yet not exactly a public meeting, for there was no chairman, there was no rhetorical fireworks, no murmurs of applause—the aim of which was to elicit Christian co-operation in evangelistic work in that particular locality. Belonging to their congregation there are some two hundred young men. How much can they do if they have but the willing heart!
The service commenced in the usual manner by the singing of a hymn. Mr. Davidson, who was in his pulpit and wore his gown, then offered up prayer, leading up to what was to be the peculiarity of that evening’s service. He then delivered a short address explanatory of the circumstances in which that meeting had been originated, and which had led to the visit of the deputation who were to address
them that night. It had seemed to their evangelistic committee that an opportunity had arisen in consequence of the services at the Agricultural Hall which required the utmost efforts of Christian workers. The object of that meeting was to excite to further effort. They were all too much inclined to be supine, to be content with mere religious routine. There was a need to break through spiritual monotony. They must endeavour to breathe new life and energy and freshness. There was a fine field before them, for London truly was, as it was often termed, the finest missionary field in the world; even amidst the lowest of the low there was an encouraging feeling existing. The masses felt that on the whole the Christians were their best friends—those most ready to do them good temporally as well as spiritually. Especially was it so in that particular district. The Church was much to blame in that it had not been more ready to take advantage of this feeling and to turn it to proper account. People had often been driven away from places of worship. As an illustration, Mr. Davidson said that in one of the churches in that locality a young man entered and took his seat one Sunday evening. Presently the lady to whom the pew belonged came in: she said to the