for as he spoke these words I was standing beside him. When I repeated
it to his Officers, one of them remarked horrified:--
'Good gracious! it might just as well have been something much less
complimentary. One never knows what he will say.'
He is an autocrat, whose word is law to thousands. Had he not been an
autocrat indeed, the Salvation Army would not exist to-day, for it
sprang from his brain like Minerva from the head of Jove, and has been
driven to success by his single, forceful will.
Yet this quality of masterfulness is tempered and illuminated by an
unfailing sense of humour, which he is quite ready to exercise at his
own expense. Thus, a few years ago he and I dined with the late Mr.
Herring, and, as a matter of fact, although I had certain things to
say on the matters under discussion, his flow of most interesting
conversation did not allow me over much opportunity of saying them. It
is hard to compete in words with one who has preached continually for
fifty years!
When General Booth departed to catch a midnight train, for the
Continent I think, Mr. Herring went to see him to the door. Returning
presently, much amused, he repeated their parting words, which were as
follows:--
GENERAL BOOTH: 'A very good fellow Haggard; but a talker, you know,
Herring, a talker!'
MR. HERRING (looking at him): 'Indeed!'
GENERAL BOOTH (laughing): 'Ah! Herring, you mean that it was _I_ who
did the talking, not Haggard. Well, _perhaps I did_.'
Some people think that General Booth is conceited.
'It is a pity that the old gentleman is so vain,' a highly-placed
person once said to me.
I answered that if he or I had done all that General Booth has done,
we might be pardoned a little vanity.
In truth, however, the charge is mistaken, for at bottom I believe him
to be a very humble-minded man, and one who does not in the least
overrate himself. This may be gathered, indeed, from the tenor of his
remarks on the subject of his personal value to the Army, that I have
recorded at the beginning of this book.
What people of slower mind and narrower views may mistake for pride,
in his case, I am sure, is but the impatient and unconscious
assertiveness of superior power, based upon vision and accumulated
knowledge. Also, as a general proposition, I believe vanity to be
almost impossible to such a man. So far as my experience of life goes,
that scarce creature, the innately, as distinguished from the
accidentally eminent man, he who is fashioned from Nature's gold, not
merely gilded by circumstance, is never vain.
Such a man knows but too well how poor is the fruit of his supremest
effort, how marred by secret weakness is what the world calls his
strength, and when his gifts are in the balance, how hard it would be
for any seeing judge to distinguish his success from common failure.
It is the little pinchbeck man, whom wealth, accident, or cheap
cleverness has thrust forward, who grows vain over triumphs that are
not worth having, not the great doer of deeds, or the seer whose
imagination is wide enough to enable him to understand his own utter
insignificance in the scale of things.
But to return to General Booth. Again I hear him explaining to me vast
schemes, as yet unrealized, that lurk at the back of his vivid,
practical, organizing brain. Schemes for settling tens of thousands of
the city poor upon unoccupied lands in sundry portions of the earth.
Schemes for great universities or training colleges, in which men and
women might be educated to deal with the social problems of our age on
a scientific basis. Schemes for obtaining Government assistance to
enable the Army to raise up the countless mass of criminals in many
lands, taking charge of them as they leave the jail, and by
regenerating their fallen natures, saving them soul and body.
In the last interview I had with him, I read to him a note I had made
of a conversation which had taken place a few days before between Mr.
Roosevelt and myself on the subject of the Salvation Army. Here is the
note, or part of it.
MR. ROOSEVELT: 'Why not make use of all this charitable energy, now
often misdirected, for national ends?'
MYSELF: 'What I have called "the waste forces of Benevolence." It is
odd, Mr. Roosevelt, that we should both have come to that conclusion.'
MR. ROOSEVELT: 'Yes, that's the term. You see the reason is that we
are both sensible men who understand.'
'That is very important,' said General Booth, when he had heard this
extract. '"Make use of all this charitable energy, now often
misdirected for national ends!" Why not, indeed? Heaven knows it is
often misdirected. The Salvation Army has made mistakes enough. If
only that could be done it would be a great thing. But first we have
got to make other people "understand" besides Roosevelt and yourself.'
That, at least, was the sense of his words.
Once more I see him addressing a crowded meeting of City men in
London, on a murky winter afternoon. In five minutes he has gripped
his audience with his tale of things that are new to most of them,
quite outside of their experience. He lifts a curtain as it were, and
shows them the awful misery that lies often at their very office
doors, and the duty which is theirs to aid the fallen and the
suffering. It is a long address, very long, but none of the hearers
are wearied.
At the end of it I had cause to meet him in his office about a certain
matter. He had stripped off his coat, and stood in the red jersey of
his uniform, the perspiration still streaming from him after the
exertion of his prolonged effort in that packed hall. As he spoke he
ate his simple meal of vegetables (mushrooms they were, I remember),
and tea, for, like most of his family, he never touches meat. Either
he must see me while he ate or not at all; and when there is work to
be done, General Booth does not think of convenience or of rest;
moreover, as usual, there was a train to catch. One of his
peculiarities is that he seems always to be starting for somewhere,
often at the other side of the world.
Lastly, I see him on one of his tours. He is due to speak in a small
country town. His Officers have arrived to make arrangements, and are
waiting with the audience. It pours with rain, and he is late. At
length the motors dash up through the mud and wet, and out of the
first of them he appears, a tall, cloaked figure. Already that day he
has addressed two such meetings besides several roadside gatherings,
and at night he must speak to a great audience in a city fourteen
miles away; also stop at this place and at that before he gets there,
for a like purpose. He is to appear in the big city at eight, and
already it is half-past three.
Five minutes later he has been assisted on to the platform (for this
was before his operation and he was almost blind), and for nearly an
hour pours out a ceaseless flood of eloquence, telling the history of
his Organization, telling of his life's work and of his heart's aims,
asking for their prayers and help. He looks a very old man now, much
older than when first I knew him, and with his handsome, somewhat
Jewish face and long, white beard, a very type of some prophet of
Israel. So Abraham must have looked, one thinks, or Jeremiah, or
Elijah. But there is no weariness in his voice or his gestures; and,
as he exhorts and prays, his darkening eyes seem to flash.
It is over. He bids farewell to the audience that he has never seen
before, and will never see again, invokes a fervent blessing on them,
and presently the motors are rushing away into the wet night, bearing
with them this burning fire of a man.
Such are some of my impressions of William Booth, General of the
Salvation Army.
THE CHIEF OF THE STAFF
No account of the Salvation Army would be complete without some words
about Mr. Bramwell Booth, General Booth's eldest son and right-hand
man, who in the Army is known as the Chief of the Staff. Being
convinced of this, I sought an interview with him--the last of the
many that I have had in connexion with the present work.
In the Army Mr. Bramwell Booth is generally recognized as 'the power
behind the throne.' He it is who, seated in his office in London,
directs the affairs and administers the policy of this vast
Organization in all lands; the care of the countless Salvation Army
churches is on his shoulders, and has been for these many years. He
does not travel outside Europe; his work lies chiefly at home. I
understand, however, that he takes his share in the evangelical
labours of the Army, and is a powerful and convincing speaker,
although I have never chanced to hear any of his addresses.
[Illustration: MR. BRAMWELL BOOTH, Chief of the Staff.]
In appearance at his present age of something over fifty, he is tall
and not robust, with an extremely sympathetic face that has about it
little of his father's rugged cast and sternness. Perhaps it is this
evident sympathy that commands the affection of so many, for I have
been told more than once that he is the best beloved man in the Army,
and one who never uses a stern word.
I found him busy and pressed for time, even more so, if possible, than
I was myself; he had but just arrived by an early train from some
provincial city. In fact, he was then engaged upon his annual
visitation to all the Field Officers in the country, which, as he
explained, takes him away from London for three days a week for a
period of six weeks, and throws upon him a considerable extra strain
of mind and body. The diocese of the Salvation Army is very extensive!
I said to Mr. Bramwell Booth that I desired from him his views of the
Army as a religious and a social force throughout the wide world, in
every land where it sets its foot. I wished to hear of the work
considered as a whole, likewise of that work in its various aspects,
and of the different races of mankind among which it is carried on.
Also, amongst others, I put to him the following specific questions:--
In what way and by what means does the Army adapt itself to
the needs and customs of the various peoples among whom it
is established?
What is its comparative measure of success with each of
these peoples, and what future is anticipated for it among
them respectively?
Where is the work advancing, where does it hang in the
balance, and where is it being driven backwards?
What are your views upon the future of the Army as a
religious and social power throughout the world, bearing in
mind the undoubted difficulties with which it is confronted?
Do you consider that now, after forty-five years of
existence, it is, speaking generally, on the downward or on
the upward grade?
What information can you give me as to the position of the
Army in its relations with other religious bodies?
At this point Mr. Bramwell Booth inquired mildly how much time I had
to spare. The result of my answer was that we agreed together that it
was clearly impossible to deal with all these great matters in an
interview. So it was decided that he should take time to think them
over, and should furnish his replies in the form of a written
memorandum. This he has done, and I may say without flattery that the
paper which he has drawn up is one of the most clear and broad-minded
that I have had the pleasure of reading for a long while. Since it is
too long to be used as a quotation, I print it in an appendix,[7]
trusting sincerely that all who are interested in the Salvation Army
in its various aspects will not neglect its perusal. Indeed, it is a
valuable and an authoritative document, composed by perhaps the only
person in the world who, from his place and information, is equal to
the task.
Personally I venture upon neither criticism nor comment, whose rôle
throughout all these pages is but that of a showman, although I trust
one not altogether devoid of insight into the matter in hand.
To only one point will I call attention--that of the general note of
confidence which runs through Mr. Bramwell Booth's remarks. Clearly he
at least does not believe that the Salvation Army is in danger of
dissolution. Like his father, he believes that it will go on from good
to good and from strength to strength.
There remain, however, one or two other points that we discussed
together to which I will allude. Thus I asked him if he had anything
to say as to the attacks which from time to time were made upon the
Army. He replied as his father had done: 'Nothing, except that they
were best left to answer themselves.'
Then our conversation turned to the matter of the resignation of
certain Officers of the Army which had caused some passing public
remark.
'We have an old saying here,' he said, with some humour, 'that we do
not often lose any one whom we very much desire to keep.'
I pointed out that I had heard allegations made to the effect that the
Army Officers were badly paid, hardly treated, and, when they proved
of no more use, let go to find a living as best they could.
He replied that, as to the matter of money, the Army had established a
Pension fund in all the Western countries, which now amounts to a
large total. In this country the sum was about £44,000, and during
1909 about £1,800 had been paid here in pensions. This, however, was
only a beginning, but he thought that the effort was being made on the
right lines, and that, notwithstanding their poverty, a really
adequate Pension fund would be built up in due course.
Then of a sudden he became eloquent. He said he admitted that the Army
had little to offer. Those who came into its service knew that this
was so; that they had no hope of temporal reward; that thenceforth the
great feature of their life and work was that it must be filled with
labour and self-denial. The whole business of helping and saving our
fellow-creatures was one of struggle and suffering. Sacrifice was the
key-note of Christianity as laid down by its Founder. Those who sought
money and temporal honour must look elsewhere than to the Salvation
Army. Its pride and glory was that thousands were willing to suffer
and deny themselves from year to year, and to find their joy and their
recompense in the consciousness that they were doing something,
however little, to lighten the darkness and relieve the misery of the
world.
Here are some of his actual words upon this matter that I will quote,
as I cannot better them:--
'The two facts of real consequence about our Officers are these:
First, that their numbers go on increasing year by year, and second,
that they remain devoted to their work, very poor, and absolutely bent
on obtaining a reward in Heaven. But let me quote here from General
Booth on this matter:--
'"I resolved that no disadvantage as to birth, or education, or social
condition should debar any one from entering the list of combatants so
long as he was one with me in love for God, in faith for the salvation
of men, and in willingness to obey the orders he should receive from
me and from those I authorized to direct him. I have, of course, had
many disappointments--not a few of them very hard to bear at the
time--but from the early days of 1868, when I engaged my first
recognized helper, to 1878, when the number had increased by slow
degrees to about 100, and on to the present day, when their number is
rapidly approaching 20,000, there has not been a single year without
its increase, not only in quantity, but in quality.
'"I am sometimes asked, What about those who have left me? Well, I am
thankful to say that we remain in sympathetic and friendly relations
with the great bulk of them. It was to be expected that in work such
as ours, demanding, as it does, not only arduous toil and constant
self-denial and often real hardships of one kind or another, some
should prove unworthy, some should grow weary, and others should faint
by the way, whilst others again, though very excellent souls, should
prove unsuitable. It could not be otherwise, for we are engaged in
real warfare, and whoever heard of war without wounds and losses? But
even of those who do thus step aside from the position of Officers, a
large proportion--in this country nine out of ten--remain with us,
engaged in some voluntary effort in our ranks."'
'But,' continued Mr. Bramwell Booth, 'I would be the last person to
minimize our losses. They may be accounted for in the most natural
way, and yet we cannot but feel them and suffer from them. And yet it
is all just a repetition of the Bible stories of all ages; nay, of all
stories of genuine fighting in any great cause. The great feature of
our present experience in this matter is that the number who go out
from us grows every year smaller in proportion to the whole, and that,
as the General says in the above extract, a very large proportion of
those continue in friendly relations with us.
'The triumph of these splendid men and women, in the face of every
kind of difficulty in every part of the world is, however, really a
triumph of their faith. It is not the Army, it is not their leaders,
it is not even the wonderful devotion which many of them manifest,
which is the secret of their continued life and continued success, nor
is it any confidence in their own abilities. No! The true
representative of the Army is relying at every turn upon the presence,
guidance, and help of God in trying to carry out the Father's purpose
with respect to every lost and suffering child of man. By that test,
alike in the present and future, we must ever stand or fall. The Army
is either a work of faith or it is nothing at all.
'Everything throughout all our ranks can really be brought to that
test, and I regard with composure every loss and attack, every puzzle
and danger, chiefly because I rely upon my comrades' trust in God
being responded to by Him according to their need.'
Perhaps I may be allowed to add a few remarks upon this subject. A
great deal is made of the resignation of a few Salvation Army Officers
in order that they may accept excellent posts in other walks of life;
indeed, it is not uncommon to see it stated that such resignations
herald the dissolution of the Society. Inasmuch as the number of the
Army's Officers is nearing 20,000 it would seem that it can very well
spare a few of them. What fills me with wonder is not that some go,
but that so many remain. _This_ is one of the facts which, amongst
much that is discouraging, convinces me of the innate nobility of man.
An old friend of mine of pious disposition once remarked to me that
_he_ could never have been a Christian martyr. At the first twist of
the cord, or the first nip of the red-hot pincers, he was sure that
_he_ would have thrown incense by the handful upon the altar of any
heathen god or goddess that was fashionable at the moment. His spirit
might have been willing, but his flesh would certainly have proved
weak.
I sympathized with the honesty of this confession, and in the same way
I sympathize with those Officers of the Salvation Army who, in racing
slang, cannot 'stay the course.'
Let us consider the lot of these men. Any who have entered on even a
secular crusade, something that takes them off the beaten, official
paths, that leads them through the thorns and wildernesses of a new,
untravelled country, towards some distant goal seen dimly, or not seen
at all except in dreams, will know what such an undertaking means. It
means snakes in the grass; it means savages, or in other words veiled
and poisonous hatreds and bitter foes, or, still worse, treacherous
friends. The crusader may get through, in which case no one will thank
him except, perhaps, after he is dead. Or he may fail and perish, in
which case every one will mock at him. Or he may retreat discouraged
and return to the official road, in which case his friends will remark
that they are glad to see that his insanity was only of the
intermittent order, and that at length he has learned his place in the
world and to whom he ought to touch his cap.
Well, these are official roads to Heaven as well as to the House of
Lords and other mundane goals, a fact which the Salvation Army Officer
and others of his kind have probably found out. On the official road,
if he has interest and ability--the first is to be preferred--he might
have become anything, and with ordinary fortune would certainly have
become something.
But on the path that he has chosen what is there for him to gain? An
inheritance of dim glory beyond the stars, obscured doubtless from
time to time, if he is like other men, by sudden and sickening
eclipses of his faith. And meanwhile the daily round, the insolent
gibe, and the bitter ingratitude of men that leaves him grieving. Also
not enough money to pay for a cab when it is wet, and considerable
uncertainty as to the future of his children, and even as to his own
old age. Few comforts for him, not even those of a glass of wine to
stimulate him, or of tobacco to soothe his nerves, for these are
forbidden to him by the rules of his Order. Unless he can reach the
very top of his particular tree also, which it is most unlikely that
he will, no public recognition even of his faithful, strenuous work,
and who is there that at heart does not long for public recognition?
In short, nothing that is desirable to man save the consciousness of a
virtue which, after all, he must feel to be indifferent (being well
aware of his own secret faults), and the satisfaction of having helped
a certain number of lame human dogs over moral or physical stiles.
In such a case and in a world which we must admit to be selfish and
imperfect, the wonder is not that certain Salvation Army Officers,
being trained men of high ability, yield to tempting offers and go,
but that so many of them remain.
'Look at my case,' said one of them to me. 'With my experience and
organizing ability I am worth £2,000 a year as the manager of any big
business, and I could have it if I liked. Here I get about £200!'
This was one of those who remain. I say all honour to such noble
souls, for surely they are of the salt of the earth.
NOTE ON THE RELIGION OF THE SALVATION ARMY
The religious faith of the Salvation Army, as I have observed and
understand it (for little has been said to me on this matter), is
extremely simple. It believes in an eternal Heaven for the righteous
and--a sad doctrine this, some of us may think--in a Hell, equally
eternal, for the wicked.[8] Its bedrock is the Bible, especially the
New Testament, which it accepts as true without qualification, from
the first word to the last, troubling itself with no doubts or
criticisms. Especially does it believe in the dual nature of the
Saviour, in Christ as God, and in Christ as man, and in the
possibility of forgiveness and redemption for even the most degraded
and defiled of human beings. Love is its watchword, the spirit of love
is its spirit, love arrayed in the garments of charity.
In essentials, with one exception, its doctrines much resemble those
of the Church of England, and of various dissenting Protestant bodies.
The exception is, that it does not make use of the Sacraments, even of
that of Communion, although, on the other hand, it does not deny the
efficacy of those Sacraments, or object to others, even if they be
members of the Army, availing themselves of them. Thus, I have known
an Army Officer to join in the Communion Service. The reason for this
exception is, I believe, that in the view of General Booth, the
Sacraments complicate matters, are open to argument and attack, and
are not understood by the majority of the classes with which the Army
deals. How their omission is reconciled with certain prominent
passages and directions laid down in the New Testament I do not know.
To me, I confess, this disregard of them seems illogical.
The motto of the Army is 'Salvation for all,' and, as I have hinted in
these pages, it has a sure conviction of the essential persistence of
miracle in these modern days. It holds that when a man kneels at the
Penitent-Form and 'gets converted,' a miracle takes place within him,
if his repentance is true, and that thenceforward some Grace from on
High will give him the power to overcome the evil in his heart and
blood.
It believes, too, in the instant efficacy of earnest prayer, and in
the possibility of direct communication by this means between man and
his Maker.