Quite a group of conscience-stricken men and women had stopped outside, and were waiting for the visitor. One of them, a woman, seemed to express the general state of feeling, when she said, "Can't do without it now, master. Can do without food; but though the drink is killing me, I should die without it." And then she cried, as drunkards are so ready to do. The state of disease which alcohol had produced in her was explained, and she was told that a little medical attention, total abstinence from intoxicating drinks, and regular diet, would save her from the drunkard's grave, and would put her in the right position to seek pardon and deliverance from the eternal curse. She readily gave her address, and the visitor promised to call next day to receive her pledge, and to give her further advice.
That visit was not lost, as the woman, who kept a beer-shop in the "Dials," was recovered from her debased condition, and with her husband became morally reformed.
The White Horse.—The potman at this house was a young man of unusual sobriety and intelligence. In style and work he was to perfection the "man of the tap," as his short apron was always clean, his room comfortable, and his pots shining. The men were often unruly and quarrelsome, but he always kept order, and got over the pressure for trust with such tact that his master never lost a customer. A grave shaking of the head, and a pointing at a picture on the wall, which represented a dog named "Trust" lying dead between two barrels, usually settled the matter. If not he read the inscription, "Poor Trust is dead: bad pay killed him;" and in a melancholy way expressed his regret that "he could not help that dog a-dying, or he would." Like many of his class, he felt proud of his position, as in the tap he took rank equal to his master in the parlour. Frequenters of the room acknowledged this, and, as the representative of the firm, appealed to him on knotty questions. Such a question arose one evening when a man, who had the habit of fixing attention upon some matter contained in a Book he carried, told them about the Saviour of the world ascending to heaven in a white cloud, and added, the angels said, "This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven;" and then he made the solemn announcement, "Behold, He cometh with clouds, and every eye shall see Him." The men who knew little of Christianity were utterly ignorant of this great truth, and its enunciation produced thoughtfulness, and a conversation the very reverse of that which usually took place in the room. One man appealed to "Potts," as he was called, as to whether that was in all the Bibles; as if it was, it might come true. Potts very wisely looked at the visitor, and said, "He's very likely to know, and if he'll tell me where it is, I will look in a Bible this very night and see if it's there." He was commended for his answer, and told of the men of Berea, "who were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the Word with all readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures daily, whether those things were so." The men were then, in a short but earnest address, directed to the coming Judge as the present Saviour.
A few months after this visit, the Missionary one afternoon entered the tap-room, as he desired to hold private converse with Potts. That worthy was by himself, and was, with great effort, writing a letter.
"It's strange that you should have come in, sir," he observed, "as I am a writing a letter to my sister, for whom I cares a great deal, as there is only us two; and we has bin orphans since we was very little, and she is a parlour-maid at Maidstone; and I don't mind you reading the letter, sir, as it's all true that's in it."
His friend with some difficulty got through the epistle, as its writing and orthography were very bad. It commenced in the famous "hoping to find you quite well as it leaves me at present" style; and then, as we put it in readable language, he said, "I have, my dear sister, made up my mind to be a Christian. A gentleman who comes in here has made the duty of being religious very plain, and I have got a view of Jesus like this:—if you were woke up in the dark night by a fire-escape man in your room, you would not at first understand what it meant; but as soon as you got a good look at him, you would see by his clothes and helmet what he was, and you would let him save you. Now that is just how I see Jesus Christ; everything about Him shows that He is the Saviour, and I am letting Him save me. As I cannot now be comfortable here, I have obtained work at a fishmonger's, and I want you to come to London. I will try and get you a good place, and then you will not be subjected to the temptations of the trade." He was strengthened and encouraged in the good resolution which he carried out, and some time after he gave his friend valuable assistance in the formation of a local society for the abolition of Sunday labour.
The Coach and Horses.—Two visits of considerable interest took place in this house, though at long intervals.
As the Missionary entered the bar one evening, the landlord said, in a half whisper, "The fight for the championship comes off in the morning, and a lot of the P. R.'s are in the club room."