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.