The Mogul.—A dirty little beer-shop, entirely supported by low and depraved persons. The taproom was built in the yard beside a skittle ground, and was approached through a long passage. Upon entering it one evening the Missionary found a crowd of at least forty juvenile thieves, vagrants, and bullies. As the noise was great, the only hope of doing good was an effort to enter into conversation with one or two individuals. This, however, was prevented, as many of them knew the visitor, and hit upon a device to get rid of him. A song was started by one of the men, and the chorus was taken up by the full company, who repeated with deafening effect the words, "He's a jolly good fellow." As the song proceeded the repetition became so boisterous that the visitor divined their intention to sing him out. He at once saw the difficulty of his position, as, if they had succeeded, the same practice would have been adopted in other taprooms to the hindrance of his usefulness. He, therefore, instead of leaving, took a seat in their midst in a most unconcerned manner. The chorus was kept up until many of the vocalists had bawled themselves hoarse; and as the yelling became feeble the visitor sprang to his feet, and said vehemently, "And they were good fellows, but the magistrates commanded to beat them. And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into prison, charging the jailer to keep them safely; who, having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks."
The words changed the current of feeling. Nearly all in the room had been in prison, and those who had not had a deep sympathy with such. "Who was they?" "Where was it?" and "What a shame!" were the general exclamations.
After a pause, which produced absolute silence, the speaker continued: "And at midnight they sang praises unto God." And then opening his Bible, he in a solemn, earnest tone, read the narrative of the imprisonment of Paul and Silas. When he came to the words, "He set meat before them and rejoiced, believing in God, with all his house," the reader closed the Book, and in a few telling sentences explained the nature of saving faith in Christ, and the result of that faith,—being made "new creatures." After this visit the work was easy in that taproom, and in the family of the landlord.
The King's Head.—One afternoon, while the visitor was speaking with several respectable men in this bar, the barman addressed him with the exclamation, "Blessed are your lips." He was so surprised at the words that he approached the young man, and inquired what he meant. "Well, sir," he replied, "I hear cursing and swearing all day long, up till twelve o'clock at night, and you are the only man who speaks really good words. Why, we have some tradesmen come in here for lunch who are known religious men, and they talk politics and all sorts of things, but they haven't a word to say about religion. It's as if they were ashamed to acknowledge God when they get in here: now, you condemn sinning and swearing, and I, therefore, made the remark 'Blessed are your lips.'"
"I am glad you are at leisure," was the reply, "as you have started a subject upon which I want the help of the trade, both master and man. This habit of profane swearing among the people is a crying evil, and you are the victims of its pollution more than any other class of tradesmen, which need not and ought not to be the case. In this part of London the habit is too general; but the abomination is still worse at the East end. I have with me a copy of the Church and State Review, in which a gentleman gives an account of his visits the other night with a detective. He writes: 'We stopped before one house in which all the crusts that are begged in the streets are turned into gin. Everybody blasphemed at intervals, except the women, who never stopped at all. There were old men and old women—everything that is made after the image of God, down to the little child—and the foulness of all was equal. It was fearful to hear the words that rolled from the lips of the crone, who was full of years and spirits; but it was agony to hear the curses stream from the baby-mouths, when midnight had passed and it was far away in the morning.' Now, we have a Missionary who visits the houses there, and he was deeply grieved at the pollutions that met his ears; so he had a card about a foot square printed, and illuminated with a double blue border containing four mottoes between: 'Be sober;' 'Swear not at all;' 'Be sure your sin will find you out;' 'Thou God seest me.' The requisition in the centre is printed in scarlet characters, forming a pretty contrast to the border, and is as follows: 'It is respectfully requested that persons attending this house will refrain from using improper language.' He took them round to the landlords, and to their credit, nearly four hundred placed them in their bars and taps; and many joined heartily in the effort to suppress the evil. Though scarcely a year has passed, the result is most satisfactory; and I should like to introduce the cards into this part of London: the trade and myself can work together in this matter and I trust that your master will allow one to be placed in this bar."
"I am sure that he will," was the reply; "and I will ask him, and all the barmen I know, to assist in the good effort."
A card was placed in that bar, and many of the neighbouring bars, taps, and parlours, were ornamented with them; and as "the rules of the house," an effective check was given to guilty tongues. Another good of great importance sprang from the conversation with the barman. The peculiar temptations of the class were considered, and a special effort was made for their spiritual good. A pocket Testament was given to three hundred of them, with suitable remarks as to the value of the good Book, and the duty of daily reading it. The attention of many publicans was for the time directed to the Book, and many purchased larger copies. A distribution was then commenced among those publicans and coffee-house keepers who let lodgings, and hundreds of Bibles were placed in their sleeping rooms; the movement extended to the hotels (the Books having their signs in gilt letters upon the covers), and terminated by an arrangement with the managers of the Great Western Hotel, by which nearly a hundred copies of the Scriptures were placed in their bedrooms.
The barmaids were really thankful for the Bible and Card movement, as their suffering from blasphemous and bad language was great. The following incident will illustrate this: The visitor was one afternoon standing in a gin palace, quietly conversing with the two barmaids, when three well-dressed young men of "turfy" style entered, and called for "brandies and soda." They conversed merrily about an incident which had occurred to one of them, using corrupt words with every sentence. A deep blush rose to the face of the younger barmaid, who had not been long in the business. The visitor turned towards the man, and said sharply, "Dear me, what can be the matter with you?"
"I am all right," he replied, inquiringly.