FREDERICK N. CHARRINGTON was the son of a
brewer, his father being a
partner of the huge brewing
concern of Charrington, Head & Co., Mild End, London.
After leaving college Mr. Charrington was sent to learn
the brewing
business. On a continental tour he became
acquainted at Cannes with William Rainsford. One
night, during the course of conversation, Mr. Rainsford
acknowledged that he was a Christian, and asked his friend
if he were saved. Mr.
Charrington was startled by the
suddenness of the thrust, and tried hard to parry it. But
it was of no use, for Mr. Rainsford pressed the question
home, and had this consolation that Mr. Charrington
promised to read carefully the third chapter of the Gospel
of John. Before retiring to rest, without any special con-
cern or anxiety of soul, Mr.
Charrington commenced to
peruse the life-giving words of John 3. 16. On reaching
the last verse of the chapter: "He that believeth on the
Son hath everlasting life: and he
that believeth not the
Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on
him[,]" he saw that Christ had
finished the work for him on
Calvary, and by believing the good news he was the
happy
possessor of everlasting life.
One evening he was going from business to the hay-loft
where the school for poor children, in which he helped,
was held, and Mr. Charrington will tell what happened:
"As I approached one public-house a poor woman with
two or three children dragging at her skirts, went up to
the swing doors, and calling out to her husband inside,
she said, ‘O Tom, do give me some money; the children
are crying for bread.’ At that the man came through the
doorway. He made no reply in words. He looked at her
for a moment, and then knocked her down into the gutter.
Just then I looked up and saw my own name ‘CHARRING-
TON’ in huge gilt letters on the top of the public-house,
and it suddenly flashed into my mind that this was only
one case of dreadful misery and
brutality in one of the
hundreds of public-houses that our firm possessed. It was
a crushing realisation, the most concrete object lesson
that a man could possibly have. What a frightful re-
sponsibility for evil rested upon us!
And then and there,
without any hesitation, I said to myself, in reference to
the sodden brute who had knocked his wife into the gutter,
‘Well, you have knocked your poor wife down, and with
the same blow you have knocked me out of the brewery
business.’ I knew I could never bear the awful responsi-
bility of so much guilt upon my soul,
and I determined
I would never enter the brewery again[.]"
Mr. Charrington told his father he would have nothing
whatever to do with the business. The father's anger and
disappointment were intense, but his son was unmoved.
Mr. Charrington gave up one million and a quarter of
money, equal to about £1000 a week, or £52,000 a year,
for
conscience' sake. His
father on his death-bed sent for
him, and said: "Fred, you have chosen the better part
which will never be taken away," and then whispered in
his ear, "I am afraid I have left you very badly off, but
it is too late now," and shortly afterwards died.
Mr. Charrington left his luxurious house and took a small
house in the district where he laboured, gathering around
him a band of earnest soul-winners. Through the aid
to a number of the Lord's stewards the
Great Assembly
Hall, Mile End Road, holding five thousand persons, was
erected. It has been open every night of the week since,
and thousands of souls have been rescued from the slavery
and penalty of sin.