CHAPTER III.

Leaving the banished Salvationists for a moment, I go back in my

narrative in order to bring before the reader some slight picture,

imperfect as it must be, of the great spiritual work which was

accomplished without intermission in Geneva during the heat of the

persecution. This might be illustrated by hundreds of personal

testimonies and incidents, from among which I can only select a few.

In reply to a request which I made to Colonel Clibborn to give me some

information concerning the motives which led him and his companions to

go to Geneva, and concerning the beginning of the work there, he wrote

to me as follows:—

“You say you have all the newspapers, secular and religious, published

in the early part of the year, and you have therefore sufficient record

of the sad and dark side of the history—the triumph of the powers of

darkness. I shall, therefore, as you ask, try to give you some slight

details of the brighter side, showing the glorious operation of the

spirit of God and the triumphs of the Kingdom of Light. I feel sure that

the facts which I state will be found to be in harmony with the

information you have received from your numerous acquaintances in

Switzerland during your visit this summer. You ask how we entered the

country.

“A Swiss citizen of note said to me not long ago in conversation:—

“‘When the Army first came to Switzerland I thought it had made a

mistake, and that we did not need it; but as I have watched late events

my opinion has entirely changed. I now believe the Army was sent of God,

and at the chosen time. It _was_ needed not only in order to reach the

masses, but to show us the actual state of our country. We could not

have believed that such an awful state of godlessness and cruel

wickedness existed under the surface, and that infidelity and vice had

made such frightful progress. But above all has been the terrible

revelation of the real state of our so-called Christianity. Yes, our

eyes have been opened, and it is high time. Many of us are humbled in

the dust, acknowledging the hand of God in the awakening sent to us. But

also many refuse to do so and are hardening their hearts. There is no

doubt the Army has already wrought a great and needed revolution in the

minds of a great mass of Christians with reference to vital aggressive

religion.’

“Had this gentleman known all the circumstances which combined to direct

the march of the Army to Geneva he would have found further confirmation

of his opinion.

“Desiring to extend its work into the Provinces of France the Armée du

Salut had searched successively three Roman Catholic towns for a hall,

without succeeding in finding any that was suitable. Meanwhile warm and

pressing invitations had come from various parts of Switzerland. The

following is an extract from one of them which appeared in the French

organ of the Salvation Army in October of 1882:—‘I wish to tell you that

your paper _En Avant_ makes me see more and more clearly how much

Christians need to come out of their state of langour in order to become

true soldiers, and to fight as you do. Believe me that I indeed make it

a subject of prayer before the Lord. My friends join me in assuring you

of our fullest sympathy with your great and glorious work; we unite in

asking the best blessings of God upon this war which you have

undertaken. Our greatest wish is to see you soon cross our frontier. God

grant that we may ere long clasp hands!’”

On Monday, the 4th December, Colonel Clibborn came to Switzerland to

“view the land,” as the Army phrase it, intending to spend a week in

reconnoitring Geneva and two other towns, hold several explanatory

meetings, and, if possible, hire and commence the fitting up of a hall.

On the day after his arrival he received a message, saying that several

pastors wished him to meet them. They seemed uneasy at the arrival of

the Army, and asked that it should not come to Geneva, or at any rate

that it should postpone its arrival for some months, as they intended

after the approaching _fête_ to have several special meetings weekly,

such as had just been held by Pastor Theodore Monod with much blessing.

The present time seemed “inopportune.” He asked if there was not

abundance of work for all among the masses of their city, as in every

other city of Europe. Could they say, he asked, that enough was being

done for these masses, or that even one-third of them were reached by

the Gospel message. In advising the Army to stay away from Geneva, he

continued, were they prepared to take upon themselves the responsibility

before the Judgment Throne in the last great day, of all the souls which

the Army might be the means of saving, out of the 40,000 people in the

city who _never entered any place of worship_. He added that he did not

see what they had to fear from the arrival of the Army. In England it

had been said that it had helped the churches and congregations in which

there was spiritual life. _Life_ could not hinder, hamper, or destroy

_life_. They had opportunity and external advantages vastly greater than

the handful of officers would have who might enter the city. _They_ were

in great numbers, they knew the city, the language, the people; they

had, besides all their churches, a number of halls, among which were

four capable of holding respectively 300, 500, 600, and 3,000 people.

Surely there were men, means, and places enough to set the city in a

blaze (spiritually speaking) in a few weeks if they were all baptized

with the Holy Ghost; and so to outstrip anything the Army could do, or

to counteract anything in its influence which they might consider

harmful.[13] After this conversation the pastors parted from Colonel

Clibborn with expressions of kindness and goodwill.

Colonel Clibborn continues:—“I proceeded to give three lectures upon

‘The aims, methods, and organization of the Salvation Army;—incidents of

the work, women’s ministry, &c., &c. These meetings were instrumental to

the awakening and conversion of many souls. I was a second time asked to

meet a number of pastors and others. Many questions were put, and many

objections were made to the Army and its methods. All these I patiently

endeavoured to meet, but said that I did not at all expect to be able to

satisfy them, nor was it necessary that they should agree with all the

Army did. There were ‘differences of administration and diversities of

operation’ in the divine economy. I explained that the Army having

brought into prominence some great principles which had lain

comparatively in the dust for centuries, it was not to be wondered at

that strong opposition arose where these principles ran counter to

existing religious traditions and customs. We consider the prophesy of

Joel to be the key-note of the New Testament Dispensation, having been

quoted by the apostle Peter on its inaugural day. The great design of

the Army in its organisation and methods is to give the fullest scope to

the accomplishment of that prophesy, which expressed the Divine

intention that the Spirit should come upon ‘_all flesh_,’ and that

_all_, young as well as old, women as well as men, uneducated as well as

learned, should, under the energising, vitalising power of that spirit

take part in the war for the salvation of the world.[14] One great aim

of the Army is therefore that _all_ the gifts of _all_ its converts may

be called out at the earliest moment, and have the fullest scope for

exercise;—that, as in the good old days, the fisherman, the artizan, or

the seamstress, may become the evangelists of their fellow workmen or

women, without having to spend three or four years in college; that the

Salvation Army evangelist might, like David, employ any and every

instrument in praising his God, after his day’s work, and find joyful

recreation in leading his fellows to the fountain of Life; that like the

early Christians he might be ‘instant in season and out of season,’

exhort his fellow men ‘daily,’ go out into the streets and lanes and

compel them to come in, and in his service for his Lord have the fullest

opportunity to rise into the highest position of usefulness for which

his gifts might qualify him, and thus become a blessing to thousands.

“The prevalent religious customs on the contrary restrict the joy of

preaching the Gospel to the _few_—to _educated_ persons of a certain age

and of one sex—thus excluding more than half the human race.

“The Army was not the result of any preconceived plan, or of careful

invention, but simply the gradual development of these and other great

principles in active operation. The chief instrument which God had used

in its formation,—Mr. William Booth,—had worked as an evangelist among

the masses in all parts of England from seventeen years of age. Wholly

consecrated to God, his efforts had been blessed to an extraordinary

degree. Years of devoted labour among the working classes had gained him

a profound acquaintance with their ideas, habits, likings, and

antipathies, and had shown him that the prevailing modes of

evangelisation were but imperfectly adapted to the end in view. They

left a great section of the population comparatively untouched, and the

good that was done was, he conceived, in great measure lost through the

want of a system in which it could be perpetuated and multiplied by

engaging in the work those who had been already won. God had granted to

him a willingness to unlearn and to abandon any preconceived idea or

theory, no matter how dear, which did not seem to conform to the great

original Pentecostal idea, or to the stern facts realised in practical

labour among the people.”

The following quotation from the writings of one well acquainted with

the Army’s works from the first, may throw light on its origin:—

“Feeling a special call to Evangelistic work, Mr. William Booth

resigned in 1865 his position and salary as a minister, and casting

himself upon God, he began his work in the east end of London.

Determined to follow the Spirit of God in all its leadings and at all

costs, that he might be guided into the solution of the great problem

of how to reach the masses with the Gospel, he commenced alone, Bible

in hand, in an open space beside a crowded thoroughfare. The men and

women of that poor quarter who grouped around him each day in the open

air were invited to follow him to a little hall—thus began the

processions. Transformed in character, under the powerful operation of

the Spirit, these men, testifying publicly, in their rough dress,

straight from their work, became the Evangelists of their

fellow-workmen. The masses hated both the name and sombre garb of

“religion,” but _Salvation from sin_ was a practical thing which

workmen or the loafers could understand and appreciate when manifested

daily in the _changed lives and homes_, and happy testimony of their

former mates or _pals_.

“The path thus entered upon was of necessity often a solitary and

rugged one, beset with stupendous difficulties. Each new departure or

novel method to attract the godless masses generally brought with it

the estrangement of some of the friends who gave the work their

pecuniary aid. Misrepresentation, misunderstanding, imputation of

selfish or vainglorious motive succeeded. Nights of earnest prayer and

painful thought and moments of extreme financial difficulty marked the

track. But the cry of dying millions ever impelled him forward, and

for seventeen years God had never failed to keep his promise, though

faith was often tried to the utmost.

“Experience had convinced him of the true principle of evangelisation,

and that in face of the great degraded masses a central direction in

each meeting and in each department of work was an indispensable

necessity to united and successful effort. As the artisan preacher

dared not assume the name of clergyman or clergywoman, “captain”

sprang into use as the easiest name by which to designate the leader

of a meeting—a word very constantly used among the people to designate

a leader—whether of a ship’s crew, a troop of soldiers, a fire

brigade, or a pit gang. ‘General Superintendent of the Christian

Mission’ was gradually abbreviated into ‘General.’ ‘Headquarters’

became substituted for ‘Central Office.’ The command of the Master,

‘Go ye out into the streets and lanes and compel them to come in,’ had

in its practical working created the processions. The necessity of a

head to the procession, visible from a distance in a crowded

thoroughfare, had developed the flags. The principle of the employment

of all the gifts of all the converts had developed the bands of all

kinds of instruments. To the common people the drum did not seem less

suitable or reverent as a call to prayer than the bell in the steeple.

“And finally, the Christian Mission, which had been described in one

of its reports as a volunteer _army_ of men and women banded together

in efforts for the salvation of their fellow-creatures, adopted the

name of the Salvation Army and rapidly assumed in all its various

departments that form which has been in all ages found to be the best

for the prosecution of a war. The simple uniforms were adopted not

only as a guarantee of plainness of dress and as a safeguard against

changes of fashion, but as a means of continually bringing the idea of

_salvation_ before the eyes of the public, and of giving it the

opportunity of narrowly watching the movements of Salvationists.”

“Sunday the 10th of December,” wrote Colonel Clibborn, “was a great day

of _fête_ in commemoration of a victory over the Catholic Savoyards some

two hundred years ago. It was the great annual carnival of the city in

which the greater part of the population turned out into the streets in

the masquerade, and the merrymaking was kept up for a week.

“The walls announced in great placards that according to the usual

custom Pastor —— would give the popular lecture in the Great Reformation

Hall, upon ‘the Escalade,’ on Sunday afternoon. On enquiry I ascertained

that the hall would be unused all the rest of the day and all the

following week on account of the _fête_. I was also told that it was

largely used for fashionable concerts. This splendid hall, which seats

2,700 people, was built for evangelistic meetings, one-third of the

money having been subscribed in England.

“The thought of that grand building remaining silent and empty during

the Sunday evening and during all those days of the _fête_ while the

giddy multitude thronged the streets as in Vanity Fair, filled my heart

with the intense desire to do something for the Lord at such a moment,

when the emissaries of Satan would be let loose. It was said that it

would be dangerous to hold a meeting that Sunday night, as the bands of

masqueraders would probably try to enter and upset it, and that so

entirely was that part of the city under the reign of the carnival that

night that respectable people would not like to attend. The Committee,

however, granted me the hall for the Sunday and Tuesday.

“Seeing that there would be many attractions of a worldly kind in the

streets that evening, I endeavoured to make my placard particularly

attractive by adding the statistics of the Army! And in order to be sure

that all should understand that it was a _spiritual_ war which was in

question, I concluded it with the text, ‘Thy kingdom come, Thy will be

done on earth as it is in heaven.’

“In the afternoon the hall was crammed to its utmost standing capacity.

As the aged Pastor told the oft-told story of how the Catholic Savoyards

had attempted to enter the Protestant city in the night; how the alarm

had been given and how they had been caught and killed; how old Madame

——, of unfading memory, had dropped the iron pot of boiling soup upon

the head of the leader,—loud and prolonged applause rang through the

building. Then a number of young men in white gloves stepped forward on

the platform and sung a song composed for the occasion, and which

praised God for the deliverance of their city out of the hand of the

enemy upon that day so many years ago.

“I seized the opportunity, while they were getting into choral order, of

handing a note to the Pastor, requesting him to announce my meeting in

the evening; he tore it to pieces before the whole audience with a

disdainful gesture. The great sacrifice made on Calvary was not a worthy

subject to follow ‘the Escalade’ on that Sunday evening in the

Reformation Hall! About eight hundred however, came in the evening.”

The earlier meetings held in the Reformation Hall were crowded

generally, and always accompanied with that fulness of blessing which

had been asked in prayer, and was expected by those who asked. The

following is the testimony of a Pastor, concerning one which he

attended:—

“I should like to give you my impressions of the Conference at the

Reformation Hall, last Wednesday, on the subject of the work of the

Holy Spirit. Those who were present soon became aware that the speaker

was not about to give them a theological dissertation; but they felt

that they were in the presence of a solemn reality, so much so as to

recall the words: ‘Put thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place

whereon thou standest is holy ground.’ I shall make no analysis of the

discourse to which we listened. It had indeed nothing in it of an

exceptional nature, and, reported verbally by another not so fully

penetrated with the spirit of the subject, would have no remarkable

effect. But vivified throughout by the vital and profound convictions

produced by the Spirit of God itself, the word spoken possessed a

force which went direct to many consciences; one may say, it ran

throughout the meeting like a volley of artillery. We well know that

quite ordinary words spoken under such circumstances may strike to the

soul like a sharp arrow. To this end, they must proceed from a heart

entirely consecrated and filled with the Holy Spirit. How shall I tell

you of my own experience as I left this meeting? I felt as one broken,

burdened, annihilated. Never did I experience so deep and intense a

feeling of my own complete misery and of the need that I had of the

help of the Holy Spirit. I am convinced, if we were filled with that

Spirit, He would work miracles in us and all around us. Why not? The

promise is distinct, and the command positive—‘If ye being evil know

how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your

heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?’ And the

command is, ‘Be filled with the spirit.’ We are constantly praying for

the Holy Spirit, but we do not receive it; there is something amiss in

our prayers. We ask, perhaps, as certain professional beggars ask, who

go from door to door begging bread, but who, well fed at home, do not

for a moment care whether their petition is rejected or not. It is

very different with those who ask as shipwrecked people crying for

help, as they who are dying of hunger and thirst, beseeching a morsel

of bread or a cup of water, or as miners buried under the earth by

some terrible accident, sighing for air and light. We must ask with

conviction, with faith, with constancy. It was only after nine

consecutive days of unceasing prayer that the Apostles received this

gift. So long as our prayers are unbelieving or languid they will

remain sterile, and ourselves useless, unprofitable servants, however

great our outward activity.

“To return to our brothers of the Salvation Army. May God keep and

bless them! Let us pray much for them; for it is exactly those who are

walking upon heights who are the most in danger of falling.”

A record of the struggle in Geneva would hardly be complete without

allusion to the subject of the famous placard which gave offence to

many, and which has been frequently discussed as among the doubtful

means employed by Salvationists to attract to their meetings those

classes of the people who are strangers to all religion and indifferent

to any appeal addressed to them in the ordinary manner. This placard

announced that at a meeting about to be held the “_devise_” of the

Salvation Army, “_Sang et Feu_” would be explained; and that the

_Maréchale_ would open the attack. The promise here made was fulfilled,

simply by an earnest address, first, on the words, “the blood of Christ

Jesus His Son cleanseth us from all sin;” and secondly on those others,

“He shall baptise you with the Holy Ghost and with fire,” bringing into

view the full Salvation offered to all—absolution from the guilt of sin,

and inward purification. I was present at a conference of friends in

Switzerland, where the expediency of such a method of attracting the

attention of masses was warmly discussed, and will endeavour to

reproduce the impression which that discussion left on me. On the one

hand, it was argued that such an announcement was calculated to

“scandalize” the serious, the reverent, the refined and sensitive

portion of the public, and thus must have done harm; on the other hand,

the facts which followed the putting out of the placard were simply

stated. These facts said more, it seemed to me, than any arguments.

“True,” said Miss Booth, “this announcement seemed to you startling and

perhaps bordering on the profane; but, fellow-Christians, our mission is

not directed to _you_, but to a class of people whose views, tastes,

ideas and habits are wholly different from yours. Now, what did that

placard accomplish? It did for us exactly what we hoped. It brought up

from the depths, so to speak, from the cellars and slums and hells of

your city, a vast crowd of beings whom no ordinary call would have

reached, whom no ordinary evangelizing efforts have yet won. They were

struck by the words; seized with wonder and curiosity; even amusement

was awakened; and they came with a great rush to see this novelty—to

hear what these strange words might mean. They came with every motive

except the right ones; but they came; and, thanks to our God, many of

these demoniacs are now sitting clothed and in their right minds at the

feet of Jesus. If there had been any other way, not offensive to the

more refined classes, by which this mass of human beings could have been

brought together, we would have adopted them: but other means had

failed.”

I give the two views of the matter. Probably those who condemned the

placard will continue to do so. Yet, after all, there is that mass of

people. We cannot cart away _human_ rubbish as we do refuse from a

quarry or a coalpit. It will not lie passive where we place it, nor

remain a harmless detritus beneath and behind our streets, in the

cellars and dark quarters of whose existence we are scarcely aware. That

rubbish is palpitating with life—with human, terrible, infinite,

unquenchable life. There are hearts down there, hidden in those

cheerless rooms, squalid offices or unwholesome kennels—hearts that

beat, that love and hate and hunger and break; there are brains that

work and invent and contrive to the imminent peril of society;—souls

without hope, and lips that pour forth blasphemy.

You cannot reach these, Christian people, by the same appeals which are

understood by civilized men and women; and will you not bear a little

what wounds your sense of propriety, or even of what seems to you

irreverence, in order to achieve the task of furnishing yourselves with

the opportunity of reaching these masses? “Let all things be done

decently and in order,” is a wise and useful counsel which, like many

others, is applied sometimes at the expense of other truths. Decency and

order and reverence are things unknown, in connection with the worship

of God, or in any connection, to many of the persons of whom we are

speaking. They may please and attract you; they are a necessity to you;

but to reach those lower regions, what is wanted is rather a harsh

trumpet call, an electric flash, the sound “as of a rushing mighty

wind.” And as to Christians themselves! Can we say that they also do not

need at times these disturbing influences to shake them out of the

security or inactivity into which they may have lapsed in the midst of

all their privileges, of all that is decent, orderly, reverent, and

beautiful in ritual and religious observance?

The circumstances which preceded and followed the incident of the

publication of the objectionable announcement may be briefly recounted.

Miss Booth had addressed a meeting attended by a large number of the

better-class people of Geneva, members of churches, and others,

generally seriously disposed. An impression was made, and many tears

shed during her address. But on leaving the meeting, troubled thoughts

arose in her mind. “I am not satisfied,” she said, “this is all very

well; but these are not the persons we came to Geneva to seek. We _must_

reach that other world of human beings by whatever means.” And thus the

idea arose of an announcement which would bring forward those beings.

The expedient was successful. A meeting was held in the Casino Hall on

the 22nd of December. _That night the powers of light and darkness met

with a crash that shook the city._ On this occasion Miss Booth, standing

at an open window looking upon the street where the crowds had gathered,

called her companions to look down upon a motley gathering of human

beings, the like of which she had not seen even in Paris or London, “a

howling, biting, cursing mob,” impossible to describe. Some imagined the

announcement was a challenge to a physical conflict; others that Geneva

was to be attacked, that blood was to be shed, and the city set on fire!

An old woman, it is said, expressed to one of her friends the hope that

the taxes would not be raised by the invasion of this army which was

spoken of.

The hall was crowded to its utmost capacity a quarter of an hour before

the time, and the broad stone staircase was soon filled with a mass of

people crushing for entrance. A band of students in coloured caps had

come early and taken possession of the front of the galleries and other

prominent positions in the hall. It was soon evident that an organised

disturbance had been planned by them. The first hymn was interrupted by

cries and ribald songs, which continued, almost drowning the prayer

which followed.

But through and above the storm many a burning word or earnest

invitation was launched forth in the All-powerful name, which found its

way straight to hearts and consciences. The little band on the platform,

confident in God, remained perfectly calm, delivering in the intervals

of comparative stillness, the message of salvation with the power of the

Spirit of God. The tempest began to be assuaged; by nine o’clock victory

was evidently on the side of the Salvationists. Many who at first had

been the most wild and noisy in the disturbances were listening

attentively. Words of life, cutting through the uproar, had reached

their hearts. Certain citizens of Geneva who were present have said that

they never fully realised before that night the reality of the conflict

between the powers of light and darkness. The leaders of the meeting

appeared as persons girded with divine armour, wielding the sword of the

spirit in such a way that the fiercest shafts of ridicule opposed to

them by the bands of mocking students and others fell harmless to the

ground. Now, at last, the invitation is given out to those who desire

salvation, to come forward. A strong faith and a holy boldness indeed

were needed for this letting down of the net into such troubled and

raging waters. One after another bold scoffers of half an hour ago left

their places, some trembling visibly under the power of that divine

influence which had subdued them, and under the sense of personal guilt;

and as they kneeled down (for the first time perhaps in their lives)

there rose sweet and low, the beautiful hymn:—

Reviens, reviens, pauvre pécheur!

Ton Père encore t’attend.

Veux-tu languir loin du bonheur

Et pécher plus longtemps?

_Chœur._ O! reviens à ton Sauveur

Reviens ce soir,

Il veut te recevoir,

Reviens à ton Sauveur.

The power of music in aiding a holy cause is beginning to be better

understood. Many hearts have been and are daily moved, stirred to godly

sorrow, or to hope, by the message of peace and love conveyed in song. I

have been struck by the effect produced in such meetings by the words of

a hymn begun so softly that one could scarcely mark the moment at which

the silence was broken by the first word, and gradually rising in

clearness and power until it swelled into a full chorus. St. Augustine

records the fact that the first sense of relief to his burdened soul,

bowed down under the crushing sense of sin, came to him through the

sweet singing of a little child in a garden,—“Take up the book, take up

and read.” He obeyed the angelic summons, took up the book, and read

those words which opened for him the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven.

To return. Now a divine influence seemed to steal over the meeting,

hushing the crowd into a profound silence, while the pleading words of

the chorus were repeated again and again. As the last verse was sung,

Reviens prodigue à la maison,

Reviens, ne sois pas sourd,

Après la mort plus de pardon,

Le jour de grâce est court—

the faces of many young and careless men betrayed signs of deep

distress. A part of the audience now began to disperse. A tall man, a

German workman, approaches the platform, and, with tears flowing fast,

cries in broken French, “O pray for me, pray for me. I see my sins

to-night; I am lost; I know not what to do; I was too cowardly to come

forward; I feared to be laughed at. Will you not pray for me?” A few

nights afterwards this man came out and gave himself to God. His

testimony in the subsequent meetings was sublime; he has stood forward

on the platform of the Reformation Hall, and told how he had been

plunged in every abyss of degradation—how he formerly drank to a

frightful excess—played cards till the small hours of the morning with

debased comrades, and how his life had become a burden to him through

sin. Now all was changed. The light of a glorious Salvation shone upon

his path, and God had given him a joy above all others in working for

the salvation of his comrades, though abuse and ridicule were often all

he received in return.

The next night a similar meeting was held in the Casino. The hall again

filled to its utmost capacity, while crowds stood in the street; other

souls again seeking salvation. The following is from a French pastor,

whose son, a student in Geneva, was one of those who were at this

meeting.

“I cannot resist the pleasure of telling you how thankful I am towards

God and the Salvation Army for all the good my dear son ... a student of

theology, has received in your meetings at Geneva. The letters which he

sends us make us weep for joy.

“On the 4th of January he wrote:—

“‘The Salvation Army will continue to do great good in Geneva. I passed

a long night of watch with them on the 31st of December, which I shall

never forget. Since then I am always happy, and can say, “Glory to God!”

every hour throughout the day. There is much disturbance caused for the

purpose of preventing the Army in its work, but every day it gains new

converts. One of the leaders of a band of roughs does not fear, for the

last week, to say that he is saved; also many others. I help these dear

friends as much as possible, although at times it is very difficult....

“‘We have several meetings during the day. I can not, unfortunately,

attend all of them, as my studies prevent me, but when I can, it is

always with a new pleasure. I love you with all my heart; also my dear

mother and brothers. I beseech these last to give themselves promptly to

the Saviour, and not to do it as I, their eldest brother, did, for I

remained a long while before I could dare to pronounce the name of

Jesus.”

“Help us to bless the name of the Lord for such a result! To show my

gratitude towards the Salvation Army, which does so much good among us,

by the grace of God, I ask you to enter my name, through Mr. Herbert

Booth, as a member of the Auxiliary of the Salvation Army. For this

purpose I send you an order for twenty-six francs fifty cents., which I

believe is equivalent to one guinea. This will be my subscription for

1883. I authorise you to make what use you like of this letter for the

glory of God. Give my best wishes to Miss Booth. _En Avant_ goes well

here.—Believe me to be, dear Sir and brother, your devoted friend in

Christ Jesus, the Great Captain of our Salvation,

“E. V., Pasteur.”

It was to this meeting that Charles Wyssa came, whose death occurred in

September of this year, and at whose grave the arrest of Miss Booth and

her companions took place. He wrote: “I was passing through the streets

of Geneva, and my eye fell on the placard of the Salvation Army. That

looks lively, I thought, and I went in.”

“That night Charles left the hall with the arrows of conviction

sticking fast in his heart. Three days afterwards (Christmas Day), in

the Reformation Hall, he rose and came forward with forty others and

gave himself to the Lord. He immediately became the target for the

fire of the whole _atelier_ in which he worked. But so noble and so

powerful was the testimony of his life, and so cheerfully and

patiently did he bear all their mockery, that they were forced to

acknowledge the reality of his salvation.

“One day, when violently attacked by his fellow-workmen, the foreman,

though himself an infidel, approached and called out to them to cease

their mockery, adding, ‘It would be better for you all if you were

like him. _You_ are _a shame_ to our firm!’ (alluding to their

dissipated lives).

“Many of his fellow-workmen came to hear him give his testimony in the

great Reformation Hall. One night while a volley of mockery was poured

forth, Charles stepped forward upon the platform, pale, but firm as a

rock. ‘Ah!’ he said, ‘I now understand all this uproar and opposition.

Why, if you pinch even a dog’s tail he will growl or bite. _Somebody_

has got pinched since the Army came to Geneva, and of course he is

angry. That “somebody” has been cast out of me, you know who he is—_le

demon_!’ and then he went on to speak of the blessed Jesus who had

come to live in his heart instead. Throughout those dark days, before

and after the closing of the meetings and the expulsion of the

Maréchale and officers, Charles was among those who stood the firmest

and laboured the most actively as sergeant.

“He suffered through the consequences of the persecution. The cold

which brought on his consumption dates from a Sunday morning in March

when the soldiers of the Geneva corps gathered in the chill shadow of

Salève cliff on the French frontier, before the mist had lifted from

the valley, in order that they might worship God, as they were

forbidden to do upon their native soil. His great desire during his

long illness seemed to be to lose no opportunity of speaking of

salvation to those who came to see him. I have sat by many a

death-bed, seen many a triumphant death, but never have seen a face

more _radiant_ at the thought of the nearness of Heaven.”

It was Christmas Eve. The Salvationists had no hall. The officers went

to the Committee of the great Reformation Hall, and pressed upon them

the responsibility of allowing it to remain idle, while the attention of

thousands was now aroused to the question of salvation. It was granted

for two nights. A dense throng poured into the building each evening,

filling every space. The scene of the Casino was repeated on a larger

scale. The audience was for the greater part composed of people who

never entered a place of worship. This evening was a marvellous

revelation to some Christians present. For the first time, many of them

afterwards said, they realized the awful state of the great mass of the

population; they confronted the terrible fact that tens of thousands of

persons, with eyes closed to the light, and strangers to the joy of

salvation, were rushing down headlong to destruction. The cabarets, the

dancing saloons, the drinking hells, the rendezvous of prostitution, and

the theatres had poured their contents into the Reformation Hall.

Socialists—men of every nationality—who had found refuge in Geneva came

_en masse_. It must not be supposed that these audiences consisted

mainly of the miserably poor; these, the poorest of the people, are

probably less cynical and less formidable in their attitude towards

spiritual truth than are the classes to whom the Gospel appeal was now

mainly addressed in Geneva as also in Paris. There is a portion of the

population of Geneva which is perhaps even more disintegrated and

demoralized than that of Paris, owing to the admixture of international

elements, possessing no common traditions of law or religion or national

history, to which an appeal can be made. They are the refuse of the

earth, so to speak, loosely thrown together, without guiding principles,

absolutely without public spirit, unconscious of the existence of any

_common weal_ to be sought, lacking any kind of cohesion, and eager only

in the pursuit of some isolated, individual, material interest. The

editor of _le Témoignage_, who was present at one of the services at the

Rue Oberkampff, in Paris, wrote:—

“There is one point of view from which one cannot but render an

unanimous homage to the Salvation Army, that is, its ardent and

devouring compassion for the wandering multitudes. That this Army may

be very wrong, may itself paralyse its means of action in holding

itself too much outside of the Church, is evident; but what is no less

evident is that it reaches and takes hold of the masses upon whom I

say that not only the Church, but the generous efforts of private

persons, had little or no hold up to this time. In this respect its

success seems to me striking. Every time I have attended other

meetings of a religious character, it has never been without

experiencing a piercing feeling of deception and regret. Always the

same audience.... But the public which it was the object to gain, I

said to myself—the public notoriously hostile—the public of our

atheist press—the public of the great political meetings, in whose

eyes Victor Hugo himself would pass for a clerical!—that public! Were

is it? How is it to be acted upon? Very well; this public I have at

last seen, I have seen it with my own eyes, at the meetings of the

Salvation Army. And I have been rejoiced and moved, beyond all

expression, to see it. In all my life I shall not forget the scenes at

the opening of a new hall in Rue Oberkampff. My heart was divided

between the very opposite sentiments of sorrow and joy in hearing

these blasphemies and songs and cries, because at last! at last! the

assault has been delivered, and the enemy _struck in the face_! And I

had a very lively impression that my sentiments were partaken of by

the members of the Army, to whose cold blood, energy, and, I will say,

clever strategy, one would not know how to render sufficient homage in

this emergency. They did not cease to repeat with a tone of

conviction, ‘Your tumult will be appeased; one day, you, who blaspheme

the most at this moment, will perhaps be the first to surrender. This

is the position on which we wish to plant our standard, and _we will

plant it here_.’”

These words apply equally to the case of Geneva.

To return to the meeting in the Hall of the Reformation, a large part of

the audience (of the nature described above) were so entirely strangers

to the idea of worship or of an Invisible Being to be addressed in

worship, that the sound of prayer called forth loud, derisive laughter,

with questions and cries of surprise and scorn. This would have been

enough to daunt any evangelists except those who, strong in faith in the

miracle-working power of the Holy Ghost, fear nothing, neither the loud

blasphemy of the multitude, nor the powers of hell let loose in their

midst. Every lull in the uproar was taken advantage of by the speakers

to fling some javelin from the armoury of God’s Word into the midst of

the opposing and surging host. The uproar itself even seemed at times to

render more pointed the words spoken in a clear unfaltering voice which

cut their way through it. Many an arrow went home, as subsequent

histories—not only told in words, but acted out in changed and holy

lives—have abundantly testified.

A more select meeting for prayer followed. In order to hold this in a

calmer atmosphere, the members of the Army retreated to the smaller hall

behind the platform. A crowd followed, and in a few moments the place

was filled to suffocation. The impression of what followed can never be

forgotten by those who witnessed it. While the roar of voices gradually

died away in the larger hall, a feeling of deep solemnity fell upon

those assembled for the prayer meeting. They had seen the collision

between the powers of light and darkness; and the stillness which

followed resembled the silence which succeeds a storm, in which clouds

full charged with electric fire had met in the midst of the hissing and

smoke and roar of the warring elements. To the faith of some it might

have seemed that they saw again in anticipation the vision granted to

Our Saviour, when he said, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from

heaven.”

Some of the ringleaders of the disturbance had pushed their way into the

smaller hall; but there they remained perfectly still, subdued and

overawed, with an expression on their faces of intense interest, which

showed that they felt that they were in presence of a reality in

religion which they had not before encountered. The officers did not

fail to take advantage of the scene which had just been witnessed to

urge their hearers to flee from the wrath to come, and be as decided for

Christ as the rioters were against Him. The presence of God was realised

in an extraordinary degree. The hymn was sung—

“Tel que je suis, pécheur rebelle,

Au nom du Sang versé pour moi,

Au nom de ta voix qui m’appelle,

Jésus, je viens à toi.”

The resolution expressed in these words found an echo in many hearts;

and then there followed a scene such as, it was said, had never been

witnessed in Geneva. More than forty persons (careless or mocking, a few

minutes before), arose, and one after another came forward, and kneeling

down, surrendered themselves to God, before the whole meeting. The

officers of the Army spoke to one and another of “the Lamb of God that

taketh away the sin of the world;” and again arose the chorus of the

hymn—

“Ôte tous mes pêchés

Agneau de Dieu, je viens a Toi;

Ôte tous mes pêchés.”

The following is the experience, given by himself, of one who had gone

with the herd of cynics and sceptics to the meeting at the Casino, and

now came to the Reformation Hall:—“I was like the demoniac of Gadara. I

can say I was possessed; I was chained for fifteen years to a frightful

life. I was lost, my health ruined, my nerves shattered. I gave myself

up to despair. Everyone shunned me like a leper; but I refused to go to

the Great Physician of my soul, for in spite of all I clung to my sin,

and sacrificed everything to it. I contemplated suicide. It was then

that you arrived. I was at first astonished; then remorse seized me.

Then followed a frightful torment in my soul,—a real hell. I resolved to

put an end to it one way or another. Yet I thought I would go and hear

you once more.

“I had been in darkness and anguish since the day of the first

meeting,—on the point of committing suicide. No word had I been able to

recall of that day’s teaching,—nothing remained in my memory, except the

words of the sacred song, ‘Ôte tous mes pêchés’—(‘Take all my sins

away.’) These sounded in my heart and brain through the day and the

sleepless night—these, and these only. Bowed down with grief and

despair, again I came to the Reformation Hall, and to the after meeting.

The first sounds which fell on my ear, were again those very words,

‘Take all my sins away,’ and then you (to Miss Booth) spoke on the

words, ‘though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;’

you seemed to speak to me alone, to regard me alone,—and I felt it was

God who had sent me there to hear those words.”

When, Christian, in the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” came to a certain place

where there was a cross and a tomb, his heavy burden rolled away and he

was free. Such a place of deliverance did this burdened soul now find on

that Christmas Day, the anniversary of the Saviour’s birth, the birthday

of that Swiss Salvation Army. “Oh! if you knew,” he said, “the struggle

I had to go through. I spent a night in prayer to God which I shall

never forget. At last I came off with victory. Ah! yes, my God, Thou art

good, Thou didst uphold me. Now all is well. I shall have to pass

through much trial, but I am so happy now to be saved; I have thrown

behind me and forsaken all my sins.”

New Year’s Eve was marked by a fresh baptism of spiritual life. The day

is still spoken of as an era in the spiritual history of many, and

allusions to it occur in the letters of many of the converts, who then

consecrated themselves afresh to God’s service and prayed to be made

willing and able to suffer all His will. The clouds of persecution were

already gathering black and gloomy around them; and there, at the foot

of the Cross, they felt and confessed that nothing but the spirit and

power of early Christianity could fit them for the conflict. Hour after

hour their fervent prayers arose as they remained prostrated before the

Lord. This young band of new-born souls entered the New Year upon their

knees.

Evidence now began to come from all sides of blessing received in many

homes, of wild sons reclaimed, of drunkards and vicious men transformed

by the power of God, of light and joy brought into families over which a

cloud had hung. In several cases husbands and wives who had separated

were re-united, old enmities were forgotten, and enemies reconciled. A

workman who had come under this transforming influence came to confess

to his employer that he had stolen some materials from his _atelier_ for

his own use, and to make restitution.

Meetings for consecration were held in the early mornings, before the

dawn of day. Often as the gas was turned out at dawn, giving place to

the gray light of the morning which fell upon this crowd of kneeling

people, or upon those who had found the full freedom they had sought,

and were now rejoicing in the Saviour, it seemed an image of the

spiritual change,—the dull light of _self_ disappearing, and the dawn of

the true light arising upon their souls.

One of these morning meetings was thus described by an aged Genevese

gentleman of ripe experience:—

“I was present at seven a.m. on Sunday morning. Oh, it was a

Pentecost! hundreds kneeling—children, men, and women. I cannot

express what I experienced. I never passed such moments. I was melted

down before the Lord. I could only cry, ‘This is Thy Spirit, O Lord!

this is Thy Spirit!’... The tongues of flame alone were wanting to

show us by our bodily vision the presence of the Holy Spirit. But they

were not absent; our hearts saw them. The language of my heart was,

‘Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes

have seen Thy Salvation.’”

Another Genevese thus wrote of the early morning meetings:—

“Such a Sunday morning as we have witnessed to-day will by many never

be forgotten. It has been said that there has never been seen anything

like it since the time of Calvin. Oh, with what divine influence were

we surrounded. While singing the hymn—

‘Accept my sacrifice,

’Tis on Thy altar laid,’

we believe many truly laid their all on the altar. The attention of

that vast audience was concentrated on Jesus. We drew nigh unto Him,

and He drew nigh unto us. The intense earnestness of those prayers was

such that many unconsciously spoke at the same time, acknowledging

their unfaithfulness with tears of repentance. Jesus Himself was

there, pardoning, and breathing peace into their troubled hearts. The

meeting closed with a song of triumph in which heart and voice

united....

“It is with joy we learn from all sides that the Spirit of God is

working among the Churches; special meetings are now being convened

for the purpose of drawing in the unconverted; and we receive striking

testimonies of God’s power. One cannot be astonished that the devil is

doing all he can to injure us. But, forward, comrades! Walk in the

light—have no fellowship with the works of darkness. Live to please

God—to realise each instant the sweetness of His approval. Know

nothing among men but Christ Jesus, and Him crucified; then victory is

yours.”

Personal testimonies must have a force far beyond that of mere general

statement, for all who believe that God has made the true progress of

mankind to rest upon the quickening of the individual soul. I give a few

such, selected with some difficulty (owing to the _embarras de

richesse_) from many hundreds.

A Correspondent of foreign journals who had come to the meetings with

the sole intention of turning them into ridicule, and who till then had

professed to believe that all religion was a hypocrisy and a mockery,

wrote:—

“Thanks be unto God, even I am saved! For a long time I had wished to

find the light, but could not find it. I imagined I could correct evil

by evil, but never reached my object. I saw the evils of the world, and

looked out for truth and justice, but found no impersonation of them. I

thought that the Christian religion was a kind of madness, or a

collection of mysteries. I should like to have had all its

representatives burnt—churches, priests, books—all! When I first

attended the meetings of the Salvation Army, I was struck by the

sincerity of the character of its officers. I perceived that they

possessed something which I did not possess. But I said to myself at

first, ‘it is only the phlegmatic English temperament.’ But, by-and-bye,

my whole being was turned upside down. I could no longer think, read,

nor write. In fact, I had been shot through! I had no more peace. I

could do nothing, and thus I decided to give myself up entirely and

without reserve to the Saviour.”

The Federal Council, in its rejection of the appeal of Miss Booth at a

later date, cites the opinion of a medical man, who asserted that

persons in a weak or melancholy state of mind had been driven into

greater darkness or madness by the influence of the Salvation Army. From

a large collection of testimonies which tend in the very opposite

direction, I may give the following:—

“To the glory of our God I am able to say that I have passed from

darkness to light! My life—hitherto without hope, without aim, and

utterly useless—is transformed. I lived in rebellion against God. He

sent me many trials, but I constantly hardened myself against His will;

I tried to be sufficient for myself. Falling at last under a burden

which was too heavy for me, I wrapped myself in my solitary pride, and

lived alone. In spite of many hard lessons and the reiterated calls of

my Saviour, to which I refused to respond, I hardened my heart. What I

have suffered it is impossible for me to express. I locked myself up in

silence and reserve, sometimes endeavouring to put on a smiling face,

sometimes seeking a moment of oblivion in recreations of one kind or

another. At times I was tempted to fling myself into the intoxications

of the world in order to deaden my misery, but I hated the world as much

as I fled from God. It was too noisy for my broken heart. But now

darkness is turned into light.”[15]

A man of fifty years of age rose in one of the meetings, and said:—“I

have been an unbeliever, estranged from God, living honourably according

to the world, but caring nothing for spiritual things. I came to these

meetings, and to the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. It was at a

meeting at seven in the morning that I first felt my sinfulness and saw

my life as a failure (_vie manquée_), and Jesus has pardoned me. O! what

joy have I missed throughout my whole life!”

Another thus speaks:—“The first time I came to hear you, I left the

meeting with very different feelings to those with which I entered; your

beaming countenances, in which one saw expressed a happiness beyond

anything earth can give, made so great an impression on me. Then I said

to myself, here is the religion which I need; it is not sad or gloomy.”

Again another:—“In the face of all the calumnies spread abroad against

the Salvation Army, I feel it my duty to declare publicly that, so far

as I have seen for myself, all that is said against them is absolutely

false. I have followed almost all their meetings at Geneva, and had

opportunities of observing the officers closely. I found the Salvation

Army a true family, whose members are bound together by the strongest

ties of Christian friendship. To those who call them hypocrites I would

say, ‘come and see for yourselves. Question them, live with them as I

have done, and if you can then discover that their lives or conduct are

not just and upright, you can blame or accuse them at your ease. But

take care not to judge them until you know them.’ Each time that I came

in contact with the Salvation Army, I experienced a happiness and joy of

which I had had no knowledge before; and while I lived among them I

learned how complete is their disinterestedness, and how great their

courage in supporting the grossest insults for their Master’s sake.”

Another independent witness says.—“One did not need to be a profound

psychologist in order to foresee that the Salvation Army would draw its

most hearty converts and its best supporters from the ranks of the very

persons who at the first met it with the most violent, gross, and

deep-seated opposition. These persons could not fail, sooner or later,

to be struck with that ‘demonstration of the Spirit and of power’ which

accompanies the appeals of these sincere and joyous evangelists.

Wherever the Army has passed, it is from the benches of the mockers that

they have the most largely recruited the benches of the penitents.” It

is impossible not to remark in connection with this indisputable

statement, on the suicidal folly of the men at present in positions of

power in Switzerland, in forbidding access for the people to this

powerful influence. Is not the power of the Holy Spirit the one and only

influence which is able to transform that mass of miserable humanity,

these “dangerous classes,” into good citizens and subjects; the only

influence which can avert the moral and political bankruptcy apparently

impending for their country? The sorrowful words have often risen to our

lips, in connection with that fair city, “Oh, Geneva, if thou hadst

known, even in this thy day the things that belong to thy peace! but now

they are hid from thine eyes.”

The following is a testimony of another kind, but not less powerful. It

is an extract from _La Scène_, a theatrical gazette of Geneva, of

February 6th, 1883, before the expulsions:—

“The Department of Justice and Police has just issued a warrant

forbidding the exercises of the Salvation Army. We congratulate the

Department and the Federal Council without reserve upon this measure.

But what would have been still more simple would have been expulsion

in regular form. People do not spare the parasites who live and fatten

on the public credulity; why spare those who open a shop to sell

righteousness just as formerly indulgences were sold; persons from

whom are not even demanded the necessary passports and papers, and who

did not even pay for their permit of residence, nor for the police

license to exercise their trade of public cheats? Popular good-sense

has meted out the proper measure of justice to these cynical

play-actors who parody religion, and we believe that it was high time

that the Department of Justice and Police should appear on the scene,

otherwise the people themselves would have scourged these sinners from

the temple.”

The same paper, on Monday, 19th February (after the expulsions), has the

following, under the heading “Theatrical Chronicle”:—

“Since the departure of the Salvation Army our theatre has lost a

formidable rival, and the crowd are beginning to find their way back

to us. The most terrible blow received by these speculators was the

pamphlet of Madame the Countess de Gasparin. This courageous writer,

in language elegant, modest, and full of conviction, has well defended

religious Geneva, so outrageously insulted. She has fought step by

step, entrenchment by entrenchment, these sorry soldiers, male and

female, who make use of the name of God in order to live by their

speculations. She has exposed, in a careful verbal translation whose

exactitude a few cowards have dared to doubt, the cleverly designed

plan of campaign of the bank of Booth & Co. In short, she has opened

the eyes of those who only saw in the Salvation Army a religious sect

which our laws should protect, and which should be allowed to carry on

its work. All honour to Madame de Gasparin, and hearty thanks!”

To return to the experiences of the Army previous to the expulsions. At

one of the evening meetings a Salvation soldier came to ask Colonel

Clibborn to speak to a young man at the further end of the hall. On

going down he found a man of about thirty years of age leaning against

the wall, with tears in his eyes, and his whole appearance indicating

deep emotion. He said, “Oh, I am so wretched; I cannot sleep, I cannot

rest, I don’t know what to do. I see I shall have to give up my present

employment; and yet to do that is to sacrifice all I have.” He said he

was a Greek, and that his employment was that of a correspondent of

newspapers in Greece and Constantinople, for which he was expected to

write flippant and scoffing articles. When the Army first came to Geneva

he had written articles turning it to ridicule, in a style which would

suit the taste of those papers. But while attending the meetings in

order to get material for his articles, he became thoroughly convinced

of the sincerity and disinterestedness of the Army workers, which

surprised him, as he had always looked upon all religion as a hypocrisy

and a swindle. A Greek newspaper editor having asked him to send

extracts from “La Verité à l’egard de l’Armée du Salut,” he began the

translation of that work. He had not gone far before he became

completely convinced of the truth of all he read. “The book,” said he,

“when rendered into Greek was like an exquisite poem! Ah! I used to

believe in dynamite as the remedy for social wrongs, but now I see that

there is another power which can turn the world upside down and set all

wrong things right.” Colonel Clibborn pressed him to submit to that

power at once, to obey his conscience, and give his heart to God. A

terrible struggle was going on in his soul. He said that after

conviction had come upon him he had written an article defending the

Army, and had at once received an angry letter from the editor. His

companions, seeing the change, also wrote to Constantinople saying that

he had sold himself to the English for 5,000 francs. His conscience did

not allow him either to continue his employment, or to ask for the money

owing to him, as he felt he had earned it wrongly; and yet he could find

no other work. At times the temptation was strong to stifle his

convictions. The old scoffing spirit and unbelief would struggle for the

mastery; his great spiritual enemy suggesting to him that he was a weak

fool, and that all his convictions about God and salvation were a

delusion. Colonel Clibborn pressed him to put the matter to the test

there and then by a whole-hearted surrender; but he said the sacrifice

was too great; he could not take such a leap in the dark, or trust God

when he saw starvation before him, having already failed in every effort

to get other employment. But God did not let him go. As he continued to

read the Bible and attend the meetings his conviction strengthened and

deepened. One evening he had fallen into a state of almost complete

despair. He had been obliged to sell his watch and other things in order

to buy food, and he seemed weak, as if he had scarcely eaten anything

for several days. “Oh!” he said, “I am lost, lost! I have left the

service of the Devil, and yet God won’t have me. I have fallen between

the two.” Again he was pressed to trust. He said he could not trust God

in the way described to him. He could not trust blindly. If he only had

employment then he could believe. They showed him that it was just this

entire abandonment of himself to God that was necessary. Colonel

Clibborn knelt down with him, and after a time while they were praying,

the poor Greek broke forth, saying, “There! I can’t hold out any longer.

I give myself to God. He can do with me what He likes. It’s done. He may

have me!”

“It was dinner time when he was about to leave,” wrote Colonel Clibborn.

“Oh, how hard I felt it not to be able to ask him either to have some

dinner with me or to give him something with which to buy himself food.

I dared not even give him a few francs from my own money, so gross had

been the falsehoods in circulation about our giving money to people to

bribe them to speak in our meetings. I knew also that his own

independent spirit would prompt him rather to starve than to allow even

the shadow of a pretext for such stories by even taking a mouthful of

food. Alas! how cruel is the world. A gentleman had openly stated a few

days before that we paid four francs each to our converts, and this had

gone all over the town and into the papers with the usual additions, and

had excited the rage of the people against us. He subsequently wrote the

same to Neuchâtel, with a like result, and yet _never had a centime been

given to one of our converts from the very first_. We even decided once

not to employ one of our converts who was out of work for the moment,

when we had some work which he might have done, lest the enemy should

have a pretext for such stories. The next time I met the Greek, he was,

as I expected, enjoying the full assurance of salvation; all his burden

gone. Though an educated man, he had (like a true Salvation soldier)

accepted an offer of employment as a labourer in the fields in order to

earn his living.” This man had formerly been under police surveillance

as a dangerous socialist, but had now placed himself _en regle_ as a

peaceful and law-abiding citizen. All the conflicts and despair of soul

had gone, and the peace of God was in his heart.

He afterwards rose in one of the meetings, and stated that, “when they

spoke to me of Jesus Christ, I replied, ‘Don’t talk to me of Him; He was

a vagabond and a wild fanatic.’ When I was young my mother gave me a

Bible, and I threw it into the river in a rage.” Some time after the

expulsions, when the Geneva soldiers crossed the frontier to meet their

leaders in Savoy or Vaud, the Greek would also come, when it was evident

from his speech and countenance that he was “continuing steadfast in the

faith.” During the persecutions he had much to suffer. On one occasion

he was savagely attacked, knocked down, and cruelly beaten.

The following is extracted from a letter published by a Genevan lawyer,

in reply to a hostile criticism:—

“When the Salvation Army arrived amongst us, preceded as it was by the

reputation which the newspapers had already made for it, there were

but few Christians who were not troubled or hurt. But these

impressions were singularly modified among the best part of those who,

having seen the work, followed it without taking any part, anxious to

form their judgment upon what they heard and saw, and not upon what

they had merely read.

“Several have even gone so far as to consider that they were

witnessing a work which brought them back, in a greater degree than

any one would have imagined possible in this century, to what must

have taken place in the primitive Church at the time and during the

preaching of the apostles.

“It is an incontestable fact that under the action of the Salvation

Army a powerful movement the like of which has never been before

witnessed among us, has been produced in Geneva. An evident action of

the Holy Spirit has manifested itself. The question which is called

‘exciting _par excellence_,’ that of perdition or salvation, has been

placed before a multitude of men and women of all classes; it is a

question which up to the present they have succeeded in avoiding; and

it has not been put forward, as your correspondent is pleased to say,

‘under a form more or less grotesque,’ but under a form most serious

and incisive. Hence this display of unheard of anger on the part of a

population which has felt itself wounded in its pride, disturbed in

its false security, troubled in its conscience, and obliged to face a

question which it found most irksome.

“As to the opposition of Christians, it is kept up undoubtedly by many

who do not render the full sense of the word conversion as meant in

the Bible, and therefore do not attach sufficient importance to it;

whilst others will only hear of one sort of conversion, namely, that

of people well placed, of good education, grave, instructed, and with

whom the question is well thought out. But there is not, thank God,

only that one kind of conversion for people who receive an independent

income and who are well educated. That which is adapted for some may

not suit others.”

The Swiss adherents of the Army in Geneva continued to increase daily

after the expulsions and during the heat of the persecutions. Many

interesting extracts might be made from a mass of correspondence which

has been placed at my disposal, between these hunted but happy people,

the reading of which transports one in imagination to the times of the

persecutions of the Huguenots in France or the Covenanters in Scotland.

The “kitchen meetings” were very much frequented. A soldier writes of

one:—“We ended our meeting by thanking God for His presence, and asking

Him to be with us the remainder of the day. We then left our Hallelujah

kitchen to meet again at three in the afternoon; for, although we have

no halls, we manage to meet in kitchens and parlours, kindly lent us by

friends of the Army. Some of us met in a parlour; the others with

Lieutenant Thonger in the open-air. They all had a great blessing; and

although we were not all together, we felt we were all with the same

God. We closed our meeting at half-past four to meet again at eight in a

Hallelujah shop, where we thought there would be room enough for all who

knew we had a meeting; but when we arrived there at five minutes to

eight we found everything full, kitchen, stairs, shop, and all, and lots

unable to get in; so Lieutenant Thonger walked off with a detachment to

another Hallelujah kitchen. We had a splendid day. Six meetings

altogether. Our soldiers here are a brave set; some of them know what it

is to go through the fire; some are very much persecuted, but in spite

of it all they are faithful soldiers of the Cross.”

One result of the persecution became now sadly visible at Geneva, and

later at Neuchâtel, in the breaking down of the health of officers and

soldiers and friends in consequence of the choking atmosphere of the

meetings, which they were obliged to hold only in small, out-of-the-way,

and sometimes unwholesome rooms. At Geneva no private rooms could be

found large enough to hold the little army, and though the town was

divided into four districts, each to have its meeting, the same state of

things repeated itself everywhere, and the windows having to be kept

shut, in order to avoid attracting the attention of the police or

populace, the result soon became painfully visible.

Colonel Clibborn was obliged to remain a month absent in the north of

Switzerland through illness (his lungs having been most seriously

attacked from this cause). “It made my heart bleed,” he says, “on

returning to Geneva to find two of our devoted Swiss friends, who had

opened their houses to the meetings, completely broken down, and, though

strong, robust men of middle age, bent and feeble through the violence

of the malady in their lungs.”

Shortly after the closing of the meetings, the following letter, signed

by seventy-two mothers of families, was received by Miss Booth:—

“We, the undersigned mothers, desire to give our testimony and to prove

by many facts to all the persons with whom we have any influence—

“1. That the Salvation Army since its arrival in Geneva has been, under

the powerful hand of God, the blessed instrument of the salvation of our

children.

“2. That we have no fears in regard to the influence of the Salvation

Army upon our children; seeing that its officers draw their teaching,

exhortations, and encouragements from the Bible alone, whence also they

draw the force which animates them, and according to which they rule

their lives and conduct.

“3. That, as mothers and as women who love their families and their

fatherland, we can only bless the Lord for the good which he has brought

to us and our children by means of the Salvation Army. We ardently

desire that those of our families who have not yet embraced salvation

may do so; and we pray that they may become the faithful disciples of

Jesus Christ and valiant soldiers of the Salvation Army.”

(Here follow seventy-two signatures.)

A similar letter was received by Miss Booth a few days later, signed by

upwards of thirty more mothers of families.

Throughout the period of the persecutions the chief weapons of attack

were furnished by the religious press of Switzerland. The first personal

attack upon Miss Booth—and the only one of this kind which appeared,

reproduced in the secular press—was signed “A Woman.” This anonymous

writer was the first to apply the epithet of _saltimbanques_

(mountebanks) to the Salvationists; a name at once caught up by the

comic and worldly papers, and afterwards constantly applied to them.[16]

It was a religious paper of Geneva which gravely suggested that an

explanation of the power exercised by the Salvation Army might be found

in mesmerism. This idea also was caught up by the secular press.

Sceptics, and Christians who have forgotten that we are living under the

dispensation of the Holy Spirit, may well be perplexed to account for

the spiritual power which is working marvels in our day, not among one

class, or one Salvation Army alone, but among all Christians whose eyes

are enlightened to read the signs of the times and the will of God. The

unbelievers of Judea said of Christ, “He casteth out devils by the

prince of devils,” and of the inspired band on the day of Pentecost they

said, “These men are full of new wine.” Translated into the language of

modern cynics or roughs, we have here a repetition of the same

accusations in the attribution to the instruments of God’s loving will

of a force called animal magnetism. “They mesmerise the people,” said

the polite critics. “They are drunk,” said the roughs. Alike strangers

to the spiritual world, it was impossible for them to understand this

mysterious power under which the strongest men, hardened in vice, or

confirmed in unbelief, were broken down under the hand of God—the God

who “woundeth and maketh whole,” who “killeth and maketh alive.” This

charge of magnetism or mesmerism prevailed to such an extent for a time,

that the Salutists found their every movement, every glance of their

eyes, suspiciously watched in the meetings, while even Christians shrunk

from their approach with a vague dread. Others asked, however:—“Can

magnetism save the drunkard from the dominion of his ruling passion,

break the chains of habit for the profligate and set him free to live a

life of purity, convince the materialist of the existence of God,

restore concord and love to families long blighted by selfishness and

sin, bring the lost prodigal back to his father’s house, reconcile

deadly enemies, and, in a word, work miracles of transformation in

hearts, lives, and homes?” “Mesmerism!” said a mother of a family. “If

mesmerism can work such a change as has been worked in my house, and

turn a dissolute, cruel-hearted son into a sober, affectionate and happy

man, then I wish all Geneva were mesmerised.” Not the smallest of the

trials of those dark days was the consciousness of distrust and

superstitious dread with which this charge of mesmerism for a time

surrounded the Salvationists.

Among the letters which Miss Booth received after her expulsion, was one

signed, “A mother whose family has been restored to her by the Salvation

Army.” A poor woman, the mother of an invalid son, wrote that since he

had become a convert, his peevish spirit had changed to one of patience

and joyfulness; “formerly he always grumbled about his food; nothing

pleased him; but now he is always satisfied.” A young man of weak mind,

whose mental infirmity had taken the form of dislike, or rather positive

hatred, to his brother and the rest of his family, became so changed

that he could now never do enough, he deemed, for his family, and for

that brother in particular. His limited powers and intelligence forbade

his doing anything great, but he would show his love by brushing his

brother’s clothes, blacking his boots, and watching every opportunity of

serving him. How lovely are the “peaceable fruits of righteousness” in

the weakest and most despised, as well as the highly gifted!

On an occasion when it was impossible to have the Reformation Hall for

mixed audiences, Miss Booth obtained it for a meeting of women. It was

filled with women only; _three thousand_ being present. A great number

of letters pouring in subsequently, proved the vital work which was

accomplished in many hearts on that day.

The following is from an old citizen of Geneva:—

“On Sunday last the Salvation Army held a meeting at 5 o’clock in the

morning at the Casino. The meeting was led by Miss Wallis, who made a

simple but very impressive address upon several Biblical passages.

There is in the early hours of Sunday morning a peculiar solemnity

which inclines us more than at other times to heart-searching. I can

never forget the moment when all were invited to consecrate themselves

entirely to the Saviour. I saw advance and kneel down, one by one, no

inconsiderable portion of the audience until there was no longer any

more room for them. The little platform and pulpit were surrounded by

a crowd of people in earnest prayer. One could not move, and those who

were still seated had to rise to make way for the numbers who

continued to press forward to kneel in their turn, and to testify

publicly their determination to serve God faithfully. Among them were

many men, and all ages were represented; but there was no trace of

ephemeral excitement. I stood by the side of the platform, and handed

one chair after another, as I contemplated with deep emotion this

assembly on its knees. Prayers followed each other so spontaneously

and rapidly that they sometimes became almost simultaneous. One of the

last of those who spoke was a man well known, addicted to drunkenness,

who after having signed the pledge, had been again on the point of

falling. A hindrance of another kind had also held him enchained. He

felt that this Sunday was the day of sacrifice, and testified publicly

of his resolution to give up all in order to win all, and in that hour

his heart was filled with joy.

“Oh, joyful day! Every one seemed to have forgotten that the

instrument which God had made use of was the Salvation Army. The human

no longer pre-occupied their minds—each soul was _face to face with

God alone_. Church of Geneva, awake! Forget the instrument of which

God in these days avails Himself to call thee to a new and perhaps

glorious destiny! Let us recognise that we have allowed ourselves to

be swallowed up by considerations of forms, of ministries, of

orthodoxy, and by jealousies of congregations, by doubt, by

lukewarmness, by coldness. Do not let us lose our time in learned

criticisms. Let us break through these old barriers—let us confess

that we have SOMETHING TO LEARN!

(Signed) “AN OLD GENEVAN GENTLEMAN.”

M. Favre, who has a number of mission halls in Geneva similar to those

of Mr. M‘Call in Paris, publicly stated at his annual meeting that his

work, far from having been injured by the army movement had been greatly

helped, and though he had had a little more disturbance in consequence

of a larger attendance of the more turbulent class, the blessing had

increased in proportion. This fact will interest those who have read the

charges against the Army of fettering the work of others.

The following was received by Miss Booth after her expulsion:—“We ask

ourselves still, even to-day, can it be true that all these events which

have just taken place are indeed a reality? Is it really possible that

they have driven from among us the friends who have done us so much

good? Something tells me they shall come back again. Oh, what a blessed

thing it is to know that nothing happens without the permission of God,

and that He brings good out of evil! For this, as for all else, we cast

ourselves into His arms, and all will be well.”

Also the following:—

“Dear Maréchale,—I must tell you, with the expression of my sincere

gratitude, how we thank you. Thanks to you and to all, for the good

which has come to our families since we attended the meetings of the

Salvation Army. Our house was indeed before a Christian house, but

everything has been changed since we understood the work of

sanctification. That teaching needs to be restored to the place where

God put it in His word. I am now astonished not to have earlier

understood these truths. I now understand why we did not go forward; or

rather how it was that we went backward, dragging ‘this body of

death.’...

“I take up my letter again, where I stopped eight days ago. How many sad

things have happened since. How much we have suffered; how much must

your heart be torn in seeing so much evil, so much iniquity, so much

sin. And what must make your heart bleed most must be the false

accusations of those so-called Christians who use their high social

position in favour of the work of God’s enemies.

“I think, dear Maréchale, that you suffer less than we do, because you

have come to give up all. Indeed, it must be so, else how could anyone

support such a terrible weight? But we know that God is strongest, and

that He can open the doors which Satan is trying to shut.”

I give the following, from a number of letters I have been allowed to

read, showing the loving and simple relation in which her girl officers

and workers stand to Miss Booth. Some of these epistles are full of

brightness and wit, as well as fond affection.

“My darling Maréchale, M. Audeoud has been fined 50 francs for letting

us have meetings in his own grounds. Shameful! But he will not pay it;

so what will be done I don’t know....

“I went to ——, and we had a blessed meeting amongst all the girls there.

I like ——; but she is not properly _saved_, but still I believe she soon

will be. She goes to the meetings with her mother. I like her mother,

too, but she is one of those who talk a good deal too much, a thing I

hate with all my heart. Her little girls are good—they come to our

soldiers’ meetings. Oh, we are working for the salvation of the young

and the old, that we may raise up a blessed army to serve God with all

their might.

“Precious Maréchale, we all pray for you, and believe hard for your

return to Geneva; it must be soon; the Lord will answer, and that very

soon. I often think your crown will be very bright when you go home to

the Lord, for you have gone through so much fire—fire that purifies and

makes bright; and those very people that caused you to pass through such

fire will envy you then. I pray that I may have a little place at your

feet there, and as near the dear Lord as I can get. I cannot help

praising Him for all the trouble, for I know that blessed are they who

suffer for His name’s sake. Oh, _that He should think us worthy to

suffer for Him_; to be despised as we are for the name of Christ! Jesus

is at our head. The dear Lord will help you. It will be victory! all

along the line!

“Accept a heart full of love, and believe me ever yours, to live

fighting by your side, fighting for the salvation of the world, and to

go from your side to be with Him in heaven, where we shall never part.”

A Swiss citizen wrote at this time:—

“In face of all the wicked things that are being said and printed with

reference to the work of the Salvation Army in our dear land of

Switzerland, I feel the obligation incumbent upon me as a Christian of

Switzerland to express to you for my own part my whole-hearted thanks

and most sincere affection for the great spiritual good that you are

doing here in Geneva, not only in bringing a great number of sinners to

repentance, but in reviving and refreshing a great number of Christians

who were altogether asleep with reference to their state. I am one of

the latter number, but I feel,—by the contact with your burning love for

souls, your heroic devotion to the cause of Christ, your holy enthusiasm

for the conquest of the world to the Kingdom of our Divine Redeemer—I

feel again burning in my own soul the flames of my first love for my

Master, and the desire to consecrate myself anew to the service of my

Saviour.”

A Pastor wrote:—

“The spirit of God has been working in a marvellous way all round my

parish, unknown to you. Many husbands who have been separated from their

wives have been re-united to them by the influence of your meetings and

our visits, all inspired by the holy fire lit in my heart by the Army.

On all sides I am now called to minister to broken hearts.”

The following from a mother concludes these extracts:—

“The Lord, who knows all things, saw at Geneva that there were souls

thirsting and famishing for truth and light. He sent His servants to do

more in two months than has been done in long years. I was very unhappy

in my soul when they came. But their entire consecration, the complete

abandonment of their will, made me understand in the depths of my heart

all that my life lacked. Glory to God, I am now assured that I am fully

saved through the blood of Jesus Christ, and by His Holy Spirit

sanctified each day, and kept each hour to do the will of my Heavenly

Father upon earth as it is done in Heaven. Five of my children have

passed from darkness to light, and are ready to give their testimony in

witnessing to other souls what the Saviour has done for them. Their life

is transformed; I can affirm it—I, their happy mother.

“I can affirm again, to the glory of God, that it is no delusion; it is

not imagination; still less is it by mesmerism or other such influences

that my children and I have been converted. But for us, as for many

others, consecrated lives, and hearts filled with the love of souls,

have spoken more clearly than ten thousand discourses.

“Oh! may the Lord give to those who have brought us so much good in

spite of persecution and the calumnies of their enemies, blessing upon

blessing, that they may reap in our dear Switzerland an abundant harvest

of saved souls. Amen!”

An idea of the solid respect and sympathy which the work had gained in

Geneva, may be gathered from the fact that on the 11th of January

upwards of 50 Swiss citizens, many of them gentlemen of position and

influence in the city, enrolled themselves as officers of order and

posted themselves at the doors in the passages and various parts of the

Reformation Hall each evening when the meetings were held there. They

continued their generous services in the most kind and courteous manner

(though often having rather rough work) until the meetings were closed.