young man, harshly, “This is my pew, you have no business here.” The young man took up his hat and walked out, resolving never to enter a place of worship again. In a week after, he was dead.
“In their various societies,” continued Mr. Davidson, “there was ample room for all; some were more fitted for one kind of work than another, but they wanted workers of all kinds. There was a large amount of Christian talents amongst them lying waste, and they were losers, no one could say to how great an extent, through all eternity, in consequence. When there was a cry of anguish from earth, Christ came; and now can we refuse to utter the response, when there is a cry to the Church, ‘Lord, here am I; send me?’ Help is needed, nor can the work be done without human help.” The reverend gentleman then called on Mr. Mathieson, the banker of Lombard Street, who stood up in the table pew, and, after a short prayer, proceeded to read a few verses from Matthew’s Gospel, describing how the multitude were fed in the wilderness with seven loaves and a few small fishes. “In our time,” said the speaker, “there was just such a multitude exclaiming, ‘Who will show us any good?’ and in the Scriptures we find rules for our guidance. We find our means of
usefulness in the inexhaustible love of our Saviour. No man could do any good who did not feel that. Christ said, ‘I have compassion on the multitude.’ What was compassion? Fellowship in suffering. And this is required from us. It was in this the greater part of Christ’s suffering consisted. We may be ready to come to Christ, to have fellowship with Him at this table; but the question is, Are we equally anxious to have fellowship with Him in His suffering? It was the wonder-working power of love by which Christ fed the multitude. The practical question, How many loaves have ye? was one to be put to us. If our answer is, We have scarce enough for ourselves; we have very little over, we must use that. The manna that was not eaten at once became corrupt. We must realize the fact that when we took God’s vows upon us we became as much consecrated to His service as any priest. Find out your gifts, learn not to be impatient of results, and make the most of the opportunity God has given you in so remarkable a manner to work in His service.” Such was the substance of Mr. Mathieson’s address. Another hymn was sung, and then Dr. A. P. Stuart, a medical man well known at the West-end, spoke briefly yet energetically on
the living Christ, and the constraining power of His death and resurrection as the most powerful and only stimulus to Christian zeal. The discourse was constructed on two passages in Paul’s Epistles to the Corinthians, in which he shows how the love of Christ was the motive power, and how necessity was laid on Him in consequence to preach the Gospel. “It was not alone,” said the Doctor, “the living Christ, but it was the fact that He died for sin, that supplied the foundation of Christian effort. All we can do is far too little to show forth His praise. What is wanted is life in the soul—a dead soul can do nothing.” The speaker then showed what a revival of religion had been produced by personal conversation after sermons, and concluded with an urgent appeal—an address of unusual earnestness. Then Mr. Davidson closed the service in the usual way. The experiment was a bold one, but none present could have regretted it. Why should not qualified laymen give addresses in our chapels and churches on special occasions—on a Sunday night? Is there a valid reason why they should not, or why ministers should not thankfully accept their aid?
PARK CHURCH, HIGHBURY.
At the back of substantial and well-to-do Highbury Place, bounded by the New River and the North London Railway, has sprung up of late years a flourishing settlement of villas, single and semi-detached, known as Highbury New Park. At one end of it there has been erected, at a cost of somewhere about eleven thousand pounds, a very handsome place of worship of white brick, ornamented with a very handsome spire. From an inscription in front of it I learn that it is a United Presbyterian Church, and that the pastor is the Rev. John Edmond, D.D. The Doctor came from the north to London some few years ago to preach to a congregation of Scotch men and women, meeting in Myddelton Hall, Islington, whence they had to move, as the church increased in success and influence and Christian zeal and power. Boswell, when introduced for the first time to old Sam Johnson, admitted that he was a Scotchman, but added, humbly and by way of apology, that indeed he could not help it. “Sir,” replied the Doctor, “that’s what many of your countrymen cannot help;” and, the writer would add, a good thing too, when we see what Dr. Edmond is,
and how he and his church labour to spread Christian truth around.
Inside you are struck with the comfort and cheerful appearance of the building. In form it is almost a square, and is remarkably light and airy. The pews are all open and well cushioned. The pulpit is a handsome platform. Underneath is the choir. The chapel is computed to seat comfortably 1200, but that estimate is rather under than over the mark. Underneath the chapel are rooms fitted up with every convenience for week-evening lectures, for meetings of young men’s mutual improvement societies, for ladies’ working parties, and the other organizations of an active and flourishing church. I find here about 2000l. is annually raised for religious purposes. The pastor has a salary of 700l. a year. Attached to the place is a Young Men’s Literary Institute, a Young Men’s Christian Fellowship Association, a Missionary Association, a Psalmody Association, a Ladies’ Working Association. In Highbury New Park there are no poor people, and, consequently, there is no missionary agency or Sunday-school in connexion with that district; but the church, consisting of between four and five hundred members, is not idle nor neglectful of its special privilege and
duty. In the neighbouring Hoxton there are many poor untaught, and for their souls the church in Highbury cares. There a City missionary is employed, whose labours are not in vain. They have organized a Mothers’ Meeting, a Bible Class, Penny Weekly Readings and Musical Entertainments, a Singing Class, and a Band of Hope. Last year their missionary conducted 156 in-door and 21 out-of-door meetings, 2100 district visitations for Scripture reading, &c., 500 district visitations to the sick and dying, besides the distribution of a large number of religious tracts. In Harvey Street, Hoxton, the church maintains a Sunday-school with an average attendance of 160, a day-school not so numerous, a Sick Relief Society, and in Albert Square another Sunday-school and a domestic servant class. Dr. Edmond himself preaches twice on the Sunday, and once on a week-night. He has a special service for servants on Sunday afternoons; on Fridays and Saturdays he also holds Bible classes. On Sundays the service itself is conducted very simply, much as it was in old-fashioned Dissenting chapels before the introduction of chants and anthems. To the stranger the principal novelty is the vast preponderance of young men in the congregation, and the use of that somewhat
inelegant version of the Psalms compared with which, in Scotch—not English ears,