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THE KING’S BUSINESS
of Christians. Charrington and he were like David and Jonathan, and their friendship continued till Freder ick died, and continues now. There are vivid chapters on Charrington’s campaign against the corruptions of the music-hall; on his long fight in the London County Council against drink and immorality; on his service in the fight for purity in the East End. Many of the dreadful particu lars are recorded here. It is good to know that there are changes for the better. In Mr. Charrington’s opinion —and there is no more qualified judge — drunkenness and immorality have largely diminished. There is still much to be done, and the influx of the alien population has made Christian work more difficult, but there is prog ress nevertheless. IV. Since 1886 Mr. Charrington’s main work has been carried on in the New Great Assembly Hall, a magnificent building which can hold 5000. It was supported by Christians of all denomi nations, and at the opening John Cory and Lord Radstock took a leading part. Mr. Charrington had been working for seventeen years, and had moved from a night-school to a hay loft, then to an upper room, then to an iron hall, then to a tent, then to a bigger tent, till he had his heart’s de sire. The Great Assembly Hall is to day the great centre of Christian work in the whole of East London. There has been no diminution in the energy of the workers or the ramifications of their work. I wish there were room to tell some of the stories of “ fruition”—of Har vey Teasdale, who once rejoiced in the proud distinction of being the Chief Man-Monkey o f London—of Henry Holloway, the returned convict; of Joe Clarke and many others. Mr. Charrington does much in “ feeding the hungry” ; his Temperance work is unceasing; and he has taken an active
his son. He said: “ You all go out of the room for a little time. Let Fred remain with me. He is the only one who knows about these things.” “ When we were left alone, my father said: ‘You are right, Fred. You have chosen the better part, which will nev er be taken away.’ We prayed, to gether then, and the next morning he again said to me: ‘After you prayed with me, my sleep was like an angel’s slumbers.’ Finally he' whispered: ‘I am afraid I have left you very badly off, but it is too late now.’ Shortly afterwards he passed away.” This was in 1873, and Frederick Charrington had hardly entered his twenty-third year. He accepted the invitation of the Band of Hope Union to preside over their annual meeting in Exeter Hall. Vast crowds gath ered. The whole traffic to the Strand at a certain point was disorganized, and the interest created was universal. Rev. Charles Garrett and Rev. New man Hall were the speakers. Many o f the hearers prayed for the young man who had surrendered an income o f .£ 1000 a week. It is too late in the day to talk about the “ bray” of Exeter Hall. The bray was a song—a song of sweetness, and harmony, and tri umph, and deliverance. But the truer wonder is not the great refusal, but the great acceptance. The refusal of the beer money was for Frederick Charrington the acceptance of Christ. And now we write down 1873— 1913, and we know that the vow has been kept. III. I have dwelt so long upon the mar vellous beginnings that I have little space left in which to tell of the Tower Hamlet records, and the work carried on in the Great Assembly Hall. Nor can I linger on the beautiful friend ship between Frederick Charrington and the Hon. Ion Keith-Falconer. Many of us remember Falconer, the most chivalrous, winsome, and manly
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