Mystic London; or, Phases of occult life in the metropolisDavies, Charles Maurice
History
Mystic London; or, Phases of occult life in the metropolis
Davies, Charles Maurice
London (England) -- Description and travel; London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century; Occultism
When the weather proves fine, as it ought to have done in May, 1874,
infidelity adjourns from its generally slummy halls to the street
corners, and to fields which are often the reverse of green; thus
adopting, let me remark in passing, one of the oldest instrumentalities
of Christianity itself, one, too, in which we shall do well to follow
its example. Fas est ab hoste doceri--I cannot repeat too often.
Scorning the attractions of the railway arches in the St. Pancras Road,
where I hope soon to be a listener, I sped via the Metropolitan Railway
and tram to Shoreditch Church, not far from which, past the Columbia
Market and palatial Model Lodging Houses, is the unpicturesque corner
called Gibraltar Walk, debouching from the main road, with a triangular
scrap of very scrubby ground, flanked by a low wall, which young
Bethnal Green is rapidly erasing from the face of the earth. When I got
here, I found an unclerical-looking gentleman in a blue great-coat and
sandy moustache erecting his rostrum in the shape of a small deal stool,
from whence I could see he was preparing to pour forth the floods of his
rhetoric by diligent study of some exceedingly greasy notes which he
held in his hand and perused at what I feel sure must have been the
windiest street corner procurable outside the cave of AEolus. I fell back
into the small but very far from select crowd which had already begun to
gather, and an old man, who was unmistakably a cobbler, having
ascertained that I had come to hear the lecture, told me he had
"listened to a good many of 'em, but did not feel much for'arder."
Undismayed by this intelligence I still elected to tarry, despite the
cruel nor'-easter that was whistling round the corner of the Bethnal
Green Road. In a few minutes I perceived a slight excitement in the
small gathering due to the fact that the Christians had put in an
appearance, so that there would be some opposition. Mr. Harrington, a
young man whom I had heard once speak fluently enough on the theistic
side at an infidel meeting, was unpacking his rostrum, which was a
patent folding one, made of deal, like that of his adversary, but neatly
folded along with a large Bible, inside a green baize case. Both
gentlemen commenced proceedings at the same time; and as they had
pitched their stools very close to one another, the result was very
much like that of two grinding organs in the same street. Of the two,
Mr. Harrington's voice was louder than Mr. Ramsey's. The latter
gentleman had a sore throat, and had to be kept lubricated by means of a
jug of water, which a brother heretic held ready at his elbow. Mr.
Harrington was in prime condition, but his congregation was smaller than
ours; for I kept at first--I was going to say religiously, I suppose I
ought to say _ir_-religiously--to the infidels.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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