The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1883-07-12
THE BEART OFLONDON
Old Bow Church and It's Surround
ings---Puneh and Judy.
Special Correspondents National Tribuns.

rs London IS, and filed with the appearances q
hurry. there is a latent elaboration and power
OF taking leisure among the people which mani
tests itself in diverse ways. For instance, at
the picture galleries, the ieisurelv crowds con-
tam a proportion OF gentlemen only Co be found
at industrial exhibitions in America. The same
thing is true of the Richter concerts, where
severely classical music attracts nearly equaI
numbers of men and women. Business itself
yields somewhat IN the same direction: and
the shops are closed on Saturday at noon, after
which hour the Thames boats and the national
gallery are most uneonfortably crowded with
Saturday haIf-holiday-ma Monday is
scarcely more a working day than Saturday:
for, although the shops are opened, labor of ali
other kinds than this Of distribution IS limited
by the reluctance Of the hands" to resume
work
The power Of taking leisure helps TO main
tain certain Institutions the most Of which is
impossible 70 imagine a5 existing il America.
There IS one, however, which might be OF ines
Unable value to US. To this my attention was
called, some months ago, By an article IN the
Nsssteeatb Century from the pen Of Mr.. @.
Kegau Paul, in which this practical business
man called attention to the advantage to BUSH
ness from the maintenance Of the city churches.
OLD BOW CHURCH
There Is IN London a large number Of churches
whose parishes have grown away from them
| leaving them closely built in by Offices and
warehouses, and utterly deserted on Sunday
by the crowd that suFges and roans about them
through the week. 8Ir. Kegan PauIs idea is
/ that although these churches are obsolete for
purposes OF Sunday worship, they have yet an
important+work in the performance of daily
short services for the participation OF the busi-
ness men who inherit the geographical relation
with these churches which those conventional
parishioners formerly held. 1t has been urged
that these services should be held twice daily,
/ at noon and sunset This Is not vet done; but,
on Thursdays, there is a I O'Clock service ar Bow
church; and IN part TO see what had come Of
/ Air. Kegan Paufs suggestion, and in part
/ IN memory Of Wilmington, 1 went one Thurs
day to this service. This is at once the most
/ typical city church and the one best known in
America 1t stands amid the crowds OF Cheap
side, close to the Bank Of England and the
/ Royal Exchange, so thoroughly IN the center of
| London that the definition Of cOekney''
| is ''one born and bred within sound Of Bow
Bells" 1t IS moreover, so ancient that its bells
rang hope into the heart Of ''W hittingtOn thrice
Lord Mayor of London"
/ / found Bow ehurch-yard suggestive place,
/ with no trace of its former function as grave
/ yard. The "yard" of to-day IS a narrow
! bricked court leading from Cheapside 20 a
/ labyrinth Of city buildings, its name alone re-
I calling q time when the city afforded room
i for the dead. In front Of the church rumbled
/ the eeaseless traffic Of Cheapside The church
| door opened into a elammy vestibule, broad
/ high and dusty, almost as spacious as the
/ church itself. The floor and sides Of the ves5i-
| bule We're lined with ancient t0mbstOnes, fat
and illegible. The place recalled uncOul-
fortably Dickens description of day among
/ the city churches, where he found pervasive
presence of deceased citizens" On crossing
the vestibule and entering the church the whole
| atmosphere changed. Silence reigned. the air
was pure, the light poured in through ample
windows. and the simple construction aud
cheerful paiEt gave modern and hOme-like
/ air to this ancient church. There was room
for a large congregation, but the feeble voice Of
| the clergyman died away in empty space. The
/ chief impression conveyed was of cheerful,
rcstful quiet. By degrees it became evident
/ from the yigOr of the responses that there we're
I earnest persons present, and to my surprise /
saw at the extreme back Of the church row
after row Of yeung men and men in early MIDI
Ole age. Inc cholr was commonplace, the
reader feeble, the congregation small, and COM
posed, with four exceptions, Of men exclusively;
but it convinced me of the wisdom Of Mr.
Pauls suggestion, for this service was evi-
IDENTIFY satisfying need which in these days
is often uneonfessed-the need of a season of
peace, quiet, rest in the midst Of the hustle and
din, the confusion and anxiety that I'll the
days Of hard-woking business men. Already,
IN our eastern cities we have churches whose
congregations have grown away 20 qule5er
parts Of the city. | have myself seen more
than one church pulled down aud other
churches turned into theaters, because our
I stupid habit OF finishing our formal worship
ON Sunday and closing our churches through
out the week GeprIyes our business men OF the
daily opportunity of finding q half hours rest
tai worship within a stones throw Of their
places of business. The difference between
/ EngiiShmen and Americans Is not so radical
that we can ignore thing whieh our English
cousins lind good; nor are we so restless that
the habit of securing a half-hour daily for
total change of scene AMI thought is UnattaiIl-
able. Is not this English custom worthy Of
notice before any more of our city churches ara
destroyed2
A very different outcome of the Ieisurely
English habit of mind Is the ease with which
soever-fr0m staring at the Lord Mayors resi-
nue. on the way from Westminster to gazing at
Puck.
POOR PUNCH AND JUDY.
had heard much of Punch and Judy and
wished TO see them IN a London street, but
| dreaded the crowd of young men who usually
form the audience. Yesterday afternoon, how
ever / saw the little theGter, with ITS long
dingy drapery, the stage empty. the crowd not
yet collected. and Mr.. Punck'S dog alone to be
seen. The dog was a black and tan terrier,
who was entering peTmatarely upon pOrJly
middle age His face had a singularly gentle
expression, and he looked we'll rather than III
treated. He wore about his neck a soiled friu
of some white stuff, cut IN points, and badly
stitched in green Worsted. Habit had made
him Indifferent TO this shabby decoration, and
he leaned rather uneOmf0rtabiy against the
theater wall II profound meditation In few
moments a crowd Of tiny girls collected. with
an erraud boy or two. Dir. Punch appeared
upon the stage with disreputabls friend,
whom he beat about the head with his club.
Sometimes the friend struck back. but when
this happened Mr. Punehs anger grew more
shrill and blows fell more violently until the
friend retired to the open arms OF the dog.
Over and over again this was done, the dog
solemnly leaning forward and pressing co his
bosom the repulsiye dirty wooden doll, then
gently releasing it and relapsing into his rather
uncomfortable position against the wall The
stage action was accompanied by nasal mono
logue spoken under the shabby Grapery, rising
! and falling, breaking sometimes into q song
and sometimes dying into silence, and TO this
accompaniment l listened intensly. It must
have been ineligible 90 the little crowd for
| they laughed, and turning to one another,
initiated parts of it. But, except an occasional
threat, a You viii, viii your" not one word
could I understand. After q time. the friend
and Mr.. Punch seized the dog in their arms,
though he was eight times rs large as either OF
them, and the two disappeared within the
drapery. Then Mrs. Punch came upon the
scene, uglier, if possible, than Punch himself.
shabby and soiled. The mOnoIogue became
dialogue and the beating became mutual The
dog being gone, all vestiges Of interest had