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September 15, 1909. THE PRESBYTERU
duets or quartettes. The hymns were all stately, but
I must confess that they were all new to me, and I
could neither sine nor make a invfnl nnicp
3. After the benediction all the people sat down and
bowed their heads in silent prayer. Then they quietly
went out, while the organ played softly. I liked
that. In our churches where there is a pipe organ,
just tne moment tne benediction is pronounced the
organist turns 011 the full organ and the people go out
in more or less confusion trying to speak to each other
above the roar of the organ. A few months ago I
requested my organist in the future to play softly
some sweet old hymn as the people go out. I am
afraid that my reputation for musical taste h&s been
below par ever since. I was comforted to find that I
have good support for my ideas in the land of Scot
land.
4. The minister sat quietly in the pulpit while the
people weVe retiring and then went into the vestry.
If any one wanted to speak to him about the deeper
things of life, there was a welcome for him in the
vestry. Perhaps this is going a little too far for us
in America, but I do believe it is preferable t<T the
minister's turning a double somersault to get to the
front door and there to shake hands right and left
without ever saying a satisfactory word to anybody.
5. There is one other point that I mention with some
trepidation. The women wore hats that were becoming,
and seemly in the house of God. I saw no cartwheels
or inverted tubs. We are told in the biography
of John Calvin that he disciplined two women for the
kind of head-gear they wore to church. I wonder
what he would do if he were living in America in this
twentieth century ? I* suspect that some men who have
been trying to catch a glimpse of the preacher from behind
one of these modern monstrosities for lo, these
many months, wish that he were alive. I want to
commend the example of these good Scotch women to
all those who are now thinking about the purchase of
their fall millinery.
I was disappointed Sundav afternoon. The oaners
said that Dr. McGregor would preach in St. Giles', at
half-past three, but that was a mistake. When I went
over, St. Giles' was closed tight and fast, and there
was no service of any kind. Fortunately, I had attended
a sweet service there on Saturday afternoon,
and got an idea of what it is like. I also went back
on Monday morning with my friends and went all
through the church. St. Giles' is noted especially as
the church in which John Knox preached, and as the
place where Jennie Geddes threw the stool at the head
of Dean Hanna in 1637 for attempting to read Archbishop
Laud's liturgy. By the way, I saw the stool
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in one 01 tne museums, anu u was a dangerous iooking
weapon. St. Giles* is a very old church, even for
Scotland, where a thing must be four of five hundred
years old, even to be worthy of honorable mention.
It has been in turn a Catholic Church, an Episcopal
Church, and a Presbyterian Church, as Scotland has
changed her State religion. Of course, it now be
1 ?i. : r~\ t. _c o
iisuga 11^ iiic usiauioucu a icsu/icildil \^uurcu UI OCOlland.
In the evening I carried out my program and went
to Charlotte Baptist Chapel, Rev. Joseph Kemp, pastor.
It is a semi-mission church. The building was
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packed from top to bottom. They sang a great deal
and sang the gospel hymns. I have* not heard such
soul-stirring singing in a long time. My day had
come. It was the first time I had had an opportunity
to sing since I put my foot on British soil. The sermon
was not above the ordinary, but was very fervent
and centered in the Cross. As soon as the benediction
was pronounced the whole congregation marched out
in a body, and held a ereat ooen-air <s??rvim \1>
Kemp and his people are doing a wonderful mission
work. We need to do more of that same kind of work
in our American cities.
There are many other points of interest that I might
note in connection with my observations in Edinburgh.
At the risk of prolonging my letter I will mention one
or two of these. I want to say a word about "The
Royal Mile." Edinburgh is divided into two distinct
parts by what used to be a ravine, but what is now a
beautiful park, full of beautiful flower gardens. On
the north side of this nark is tipw Frlinhnrorti Jo
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only a hundred years old. On the south side is old
Edinburgh. All the old historical landmarks, of
course, are in the old part of the city. There is the
castle on the highest summit in Edinburgh. The men
who built the old castles of England and Scotland had
fine eyes for choosing sites. These sites were almost
impregnable by nature before the castles were built.
There is a street leading by a gradual descent from the
castle to Holyrood Palace, the palace made famous by
Mary Queen of Scots and Lord Darnley, and the palace
in which the king still stays when he visits Edinburgh.
That street is just a mile long. It is called
"The Royal Mile," being the street along whiih the
royalty passed from the palace to the castle. It takes
only a little imagination to picture what that street
has been in the days gone by. But no amount of imagination
can picture it as it is today. I have never
seen such poverty and squalor. I walked the whole
length of the street when I went to St. Giles' on
Sunday afternoon. I drove it with my friends on
Monday morning. It is swarming with little children
who are clothed in rags and dirt. The little boys rolled
after our cab on their hands and feet like a cart wheel,
hoping to attract our attention and thereby get a penny.
With a pocketful of pennies we could have transformed
the whole street into a street of living wheels.
Little fellows not more than five years old could roll
along in a marvelous way. The pathos of it all made
it difficult to keep back the tears. What can be the
cause of such poverty? I could see but one answer?
it is strong drink. There are saloons and wine shops
everywhere in that part of the city. I came away
from that Royal Mile a better teetotaler and a better
*1 T i i t-.f?
piumuiiiuiiiai. man x nave cvci uccii uciorc.
I know that these are but the casual observations of
a casual observer written in haste. I know how easy it
is to make such observations. Every now and then
some theorist from north of the Mason and Dixon line
cetS into a Pullman par anrl cu/inorc a % fom
days in the Southland, and then goes home and points
out all our faults and solves the problems with which ..
we have been wrestling for decades.
John Knox's house is on "The Royal Mile," about
half-way between the castle and the palace. He was
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