Meanwhile, the work began to take root in other parts of Switzerland. Several of the Salutistes, crossing the Lake of Neuchâtel to the Canton of Fribourg, were there received without hostile manifestations by the Roman Catholic populations of the neighbouring villages. In one Sunday’s evangelistic excursion they passed through six or seven villages, and in some of these the poor people met them with gladness. In one, the pastor came out of his house and invited them into his garden to take some refreshment. He knew, he said, that their object was to drive “the demon” out of the hearts of his people; to which truth, the Salutistes responded with a hearty “God bless the pastor.” A journal of this Canton (a Roman Catholic Canton) published, a week later, an earnest invitation to the Salutistes to come among them.

Several indignant protests had been made in the press of Zurich against the action of the authorities of Geneva and Neuchâtel. The following was written from a friend of the cause in Zurich:—

“For some time I have been impelled to tell you that I also belong to these soldiers, who have decided to fight valiantly against sin and Satan, and to live and die for Jesus. Yes, praise God, I also belong to this flock; and, even if I lose all, NOTHING shall separate me from Him. My heart breaks—my eyes fill with tears when I see my brothers and sisters suffer for Christ. Yet they are happy, and they never open their mouths to complain.”

Another wrote:—

“Having learned that a meeting of the Salvation Army was to take place at Buchillon, I engaged with a number of blackguards to make a row. When I got inside the hall I asked for and obtained permission to speak for a short time. I was, however, stopped in my discourse, not by any physical force; but my mouth was closed, and I could not speak another word. I was obliged to retire without having been able to carry out my intention. The next day I was completely upset. I saw and felt that it was God who had prevented me from fulfilling that wicked intention. I prayed all day while at my work, and I had no rest until I gave my heart entirely to the Saviour who had been proclaimed at that meeting. Now I desire to be thoroughly consecrated. Formerly I was the terror of the country. I led a life which even the world condemned. But now my desire is that all men, whatever they may be, should possess this salvation, and give themselves to the Saviour while there is time.

“F. —.”

John Wyssa, the Brother of Charles Wyssa, who had been brought to Christ through that brother’s influence and example, accepted an engagement to work at the Zurich Exhibition of this year, and might there have been seen by visitors, wearing the S. on his collar while at work. This mark of being one of the despised people brought upon him some ridicule and annoyance, yet it helped him also in maintaining the high standard of conduct expected from a Salutiste and any lapse from which would be quickly observed by watchful and critical eyes.

A cheering sign for the future of Switzerland may be found in the fact of certain Resolutions which were passed this summer at the annual fête of Swiss students, held at Zofingue. During a six hours’ conference on one day, the questions of liberty of worship and the right of meeting were discussed in relation to the Salvation Army. Two theses on the subject were read, one in German and the other in French. The former strongly combated the objects and methods of the Salvation Army, and approved of the measures recently taken by the Cantonal governments against it. The latter, on the contrary, claimed liberty for all, spoke in reproachful terms of the Councils of State of Geneva, Neuchâtel and Vaud, accusing them of having violated the Constitution in order to win popularity with a certain class of people who were fanatically opposed to the Salvationists. In the discussion and voting which followed, the latter view obtained an immense majority; two speakers alone were found to defend the opposite opinion. These students represent the future fathers, magistrates, &c., of the country, and it would seem that there is more to hope from them than from some of the older generation.

The persecution in Rolle had the result of spreading the work to eight villages in the Canton de Vaud, and the converts of Rolle itself became some of the firmest adherents of the Salvation Army, labouring continually for the salvation of their friends and neighbours.

In Geneva, the persecution had somewhat abated. Miss Patrick wrote thus of a visit paid to Geneva during the summer:—

“This is a change after Neuchâtel—no scheming and planning to escape roughs, no stones, ink, wood, water, curses, &c. We miss them all, and here walk through the streets in full uniform, which seems to offend no one, and better than that, we walk into halls and have meetings without being slowly smothered. On Wednesday evening, on our arrival, we found some Neuchâtel friends already here, and also our friend Monsieur Valès from Cannes, so the evening meeting was a fête. Many spoke and prayed, and the Lord was ‘All and all’ to each one of us. On Thursday we met the Serjeants, who visit others, look up sick or weak soldiers, &c., and together we took fresh strength for service, and promised God to run more quickly than ever on His messages. On Friday evening we held a holiness meeting in the blacksmith’s forge.” “The old forge,” situated a little out of Geneva, in the country, is a place of sweet and sacred memories to many who were accustomed to resort thither in order to find the peace and quiet in worship which was denied them in the city.

Adelaide Cox, who has laboured through the persecutions, and up to the present time in Geneva, with a wonderful calmness, courage, and untiring perseverance, wrote as follows of a united meeting of Genevan and Neuchâtel Salutistes held according to previous arrangement in the country just outside the frontier:—

“‘Shahut!’ ‘Shahut!’ were the first words we heard as we entered the station at Geneva some ten days ago, accompanied by a hearty laugh from some thirty porters who seemed highly amused. But a second greeting reaches us from behind a mass of people all trying to get out of the doorway at the same moment. ‘Hallelujah! Amen!’ Ah! that sounds more friendly, and soon we are pushed and hustled along to find ourselves with our dear comrades, and we repeat the loved Army watchword.

“Since then we have heard and seen so much that we scarcely know where to begin, but all we have seen and all we have heard makes our hearts well up with joy and thankfulness to Him who has led us up the hill Difficulty, and will bring us soon into the ‘wealthy place.’ We thank Him for that hill, for as we mount we command such wonderful views, and catch such glimpses of the King in His beauty. Captain Becquet comes with an invitation to meet the Neuchâtel soldiers in the open air on Sunday. All arrangements are made and everything is ready. Morning comes, and with it the call of a comrade, ‘En Avant! It is time to start.’ So down the stairs to the boat, from the boat to the train we hurry, and, after a long journey, we get to our destination. Up with the cock-crowing next day. It feels like Sunday, and Sunday generally means a great blessing, and so it proved this time.

“Something delays the soldiers—but a little patience, and here they are. One, two, three, and now a whole rush of them. What Hallelujahs! what grasping of our hands! in their glee some dear fellows literally jump for joy. This is a welcome indeed! But there is no time to be lost—the forest must be reached, for there we are to spend the day. This means a long walk, for we are told we must not stay in this Canton! Onward then, though we can’t see what harm we should do the trees, the fields, and the few travellers along the road; but it is best to find a quiet nook where we shall not be disturbed. We soon come to it, and sit down in a ring under the shade of some forest trees, whose thick boughs entwine and cover us in, as in a room. This, indeed, is the ‘place prepared,’ where Jesus Christ will meet with us to-day. And he did meet with us. There were there men who had been in prison many times; many who had lived beneath the weight of dark sins were there rejoicing in a full salvation, and all our hearts beat high as we sang of the redeeming grace which had reached even to us. The day passed quickly, and we leave with happier hearts, our strength renewed, our courage greater.”

I think it well to mention here that during her stay at Lausanne in the spring Miss Booth received a visit from the father of her friend and companion, Maud Charlesworth. He came from England with the intention of taking his daughter back with him; but on seeing and hearing of the good work being done in Switzerland, he was satisfied that it was well that she should remain longer. He returned alone, committing his daughter once more to the care of her friend. The following letter was published in several foreign journals, addressed by him to Pastor Theodore Monod, of Paris:—

“Lausanne, March, 1883.

“MY DEAR SIR,—Miss Booth has placed before me a number of _Le Christianisme_ of this week, in which there are statements very painful to her, not so much as affecting herself personally, as in being prejudicial to the work in which she is engaged. These statements are founded on assertions in the London journals, which, since I came to Switzerland, have been explained to me by Miss Booth and my daughter as having originated through ignorance of the true circumstances of the case.

“My daughter has not been acting in the capacity of secretary or aide-de-camp to Miss Booth, and she has at no time worn the uniform of the Salvation Army, but only a simple dress made in England, of which I approved, she also wearing the initials ‘S.A.’ When Miss Booth found it necessary to go to Geneva, she did right in taking my daughter with her, as I had stipulated that they should not be separated; and my daughter so being at Geneva, it was with my consent she remained. Miss Booth has watched over her and cared for her, and the unfortunate circumstances which have occurred in Geneva have arisen from the action of the police authorities there, and not from any disregard by Miss Booth of the terms upon which my child had been left in Paris under her care.

“All these painful misunderstandings seem to have originated through the letter written by my daughter, as she informs me, to General Booth, intended by her to be seen by him alone, but which through inadvertence was made public in the _Times_.

“You have my authority to use this letter, in justification of Miss Booth.

“I have the honour to be, my dear Sir, “Yours very faithfully, (Signed), “SAMUEL CHARLESWORTH.”[30]

Hearing during the summer that Miss Booth was suffering and ill, I obeyed my own heart’s impulse and her invitation to come to her at the Château G——, in the Canton de Vaud. She there expressed to me her surprise—a surprise which I shared—that the Foreign Office in London had not in any way taken notice of the illegal treatment to which she and her companions had been subjected for seven months, although all the facts had been communicated to it by our Ambassador at Berne. This surprise was still more strongly expressed by several well-known Swiss gentlemen who had arrived at the Château G—— to confer with each other and with us as to the steps to be taken to obtain redress and to bring the matter more effectively before our Foreign Office. “Your Government,” said one of these gentlemen, “could with so good a grace and with so much dignity address a grave remonstrance to ours. England is so great and powerful, and Switzerland so small. That attitude of admonition and warning on the part of your country would be natural and just in such circumstances, and would be most useful in strengthening that portion of public opinion here which is on the side of liberty and the Constitution against the tyranny and lawlessness which now rule—a Government, in fact, by _emeutes_.” The opinion of all present was that an interposition of this character on the part of our Government at that time would have been a strength to right principles all round, and a moral gain far beyond that reaped by the individual victims of illegal decrees and of the mob violence encouraged by those decrees.

It was at this pleasant Château, standing in a lovely park at the foot of the Jura slopes, that an incident occurred showing how childishly Governments may act and how ridiculous they may make themselves when once they have entered on a false route. Having obtained information that the lady of the Château, in obedience to the impulses of her kind and maternal heart, had invited Miss Booth to be her guest, and to rest awhile in this retreat from her heavy labours and anxieties, the Department of Police of Lausanne sent a detective to ascertain if such was the fact. This functionary after having to walk a considerable distance from the nearest railway station, crept round the terrace, and peered in at all the windows, including those of bedrooms on the ground floor. He then came to the front entrance, and demanded an interview with Madame. “You have Salutistes, here,” he said. She replied, “I have several friends in my house, whom I have invited to stay with me for a little repose.” He went to the nearest village, and telegraphed to head-quarters, “Send a sufficient force to suppress reunion at Château G——.” When this was told to the gentlemen above mentioned, who were conversing in the drawing-room, the effect it produced was an irresistible peal of laughter, which, however, gave way to yet graver and more anxious discussion. Such “fantastic tricks” played by those in authority are symptoms of the decrepitude of the Government.

From the Château G——, Miss Booth, Miss Charlesworth, and others, started very early on a brilliant and beautiful morning, to meet a large gathering of friends on the Savoy side of the Lake of Geneva. It was a Saint’s day, a holy-day, when all the ateliers are closed, and a good opportunity, therefore, for a meeting. The Geneva and other Salutistes arrived at an early hour at Tougues in _Haute Savoie_. The Mayor of Tougues had invited them to occupy a spacious piece of grassy ground among shady trees, and came out himself on horseback to meet them, treating them with much courtesy. The day was passed in prayer, and praise, and exhortations, with intervals for refreshments and social intercourse. It was a delightful sensation to be able to meet in peace, free from the dogging steps of police spies and the gross insults of a wretched mob encouraged by their rulers to consider themselves emancipated from moral and legal obligations. I was unable to be present at that happy gathering, but awaited at Lausanne the return of my two young friends whom I had invited to come to be under my protection for the brief period of their stay there. They landed from the boat at Nyons. There a crowd followed them to the railway station for Lausanne. “Salut! Salut!” was shouted along the streets; a few stones greeted the Salutistes, but without injuring them. Miss Booth turned round and said, with a smile, to her friends, “What wonderful opportunities God gives us in this way to speak of salvation to the people!” They reached the train, the crowd following, some even pressing their faces against the carriage windows, curious to observe their conduct under this fire of salutations not by any means respectful. When I met my young friends at the Gare of Lausanne, their faces were full of happiness and peace, although they were overcome by the fatigues of the long day. In the morning when I entered their room to call them, they were still sleeping. I wish that I could convey to others the thoughts which presented themselves so vividly to me at that hour, as I looked at those gentle sleepers, that they seemed the full solution of a question which had taken possession of my mind, and upon which light had been gradually dawning throughout the summer. The sunlight shining through the half-closed shutters fell upon faces so pure, so innocent, so youthful, and so peaceful, and the murmured morning greetings, as I kissed the forehead of each in turn, were so childlike in their simplicity and fullness of love, that it was difficult to realise for the moment that these were the instruments chosen of God to lead an attack against the kingdom of darkness with such a divinely-inspired energy as to embarrass the Governments of the world and to stir up the bitterest rage of the emissaries of Satan. “Oh! God, how wonderful are Thy works,” I said. I could only stand and contemplate in silence and awe His ways and His thoughts, which are as far above and removed from our ways and our thoughts as the heavens are above the earth, and are all beautiful and admirable to those to whom He grants humility to read them aright.

I take this opportunity of turning straight round, so to speak, towards my fellow-workers in the Abolitionist crusade, now well-known throughout the world, and of addressing them, face to face, in regard to the interests of our own great cause, in the present connexion.

As I travelled with Miss Booth, or sat alone with her in our room, she frequently related to me her experience—not the experience which finds its way to the public eye alone—in Paris, Geneva, and elsewhere. Seeing me sometimes in deep thought, she would ask me concerning my thoughts. I could only reply: “I am contemplating with the deepest interest the path in which God has been leading you, and the work to which He has appointed you, because I see its intimate connection with the work to which I have been devoted for many years.” It is needless to say that I refrained from imparting to her—so young and already so heavily charged with a great and difficult mission—the most painful experiences attaching to my own special work. But she had observed and thought for herself, and a very few words on my part were sufficient to show her my meaning. Her true woman’s heart was not slow to feel, and her keen woman’s instinct to perceive, that which some of my fellow-workers, much older than she, have failed to perceive.

We have sometimes asked ourselves “how and by what instruments will this work of moral purification and of conflict with the most desolating of human vices be carried on in the future?” In our conferences and publications it is almost universally taken for granted that this crusade must be carried on by persons of mature age; that when women take part in it, they must be married women, mothers, or (if unmarried) they must be of a certain age, &c., &c. The thought of consecrating the grace, the beauty, the charm of youth, especially of young womanhood to such a terrible work would fill us for the most part with horror and dismay. But “as the heavens are high above the earth, so are His thoughts above our thoughts.” Unconscious indeed, blessedly unconscious of the horror and magnitude of the evil against which they have been warring, these girl warriors, clad in the armour of the most exquisite purity, have been wielding a two-edged sword, the tremendous force of which they themselves did not know, against a monster almost entirely concealed from their eyes,—an evil whose proportions and true nature they had no conception of. These little “handmaidens of the Lord” have done, under His guidance, what none of us older persons have done or can do, for we have not the same mysterious and special position. “Strangely and dangerously chosen instruments,” I think I hear you exclaim. Do not be alarmed. I would never advocate the deliberate enlistment in the war against the social vice, of our young and delicate daughters. I see as well as you do the unsuitableness, the dangers, and even the cruelty that there would be in such a course. I only call upon you to regard with unprejudiced eyes _what God has done_, or if you like it better so expressed, _the facts of the case_. How shall I put before you in a way to be understood, these facts of the case? I will endeavour to do so by an illustration. When it was told to the wicked King Herod, that Jesus was at hand, in the streets, near his palace gates—and that the people were attentive to the words and acts of this Jesus, he started, paused, trembled, and then shrieked in horror “it is John the Baptist _whom I beheaded_! it is his ghost! he is risen from the dead!” It is not uncommon for murderers to think they see even in some heaven-sent messenger of warning, the ghost of their dead victims. Now you, my fellow-workers in our great abolitionist and anti-slavery cause, do not need to be told again of generations, past and present, of murdered or still living victims of the deadly conspiracy of greed and lust which has established its vast and diabolic organization throughout Europe. You do not need to be told that, besides those who choose evil of their own free will, there are thousands and tens of thousands of the young daughters of the people bought and sold in the vice markets of the world, caught when young, mere children, and forced into the State accredited bastilles of vice, imprisoned, degraded beyond hope of redemption, _murdered_, body and soul. Who are their murderers? Some of them might have been seen among the violent opponents of the work of God in Geneva; or, perhaps, not seen, but only _felt_ as an occult influence; for these murderers prefer to work in the dark, and to pass on their “blood-money” through other hands, while they themselves reap its price in the gratification of their dark and cruel passions. There are others, also, accessories to these murders, and these I hold to be the most guilty of all. I mean the State officials who license, superintend, and cover with their protection these horrible bastilles. Let it be well understood that I have no word to say against the private character and _honorabilité_ of certain individual administrators of this cruel and immoral _régime_. They may be all that can be desired in their private characters and in domestic life; but they cannot on this account escape the guilty responsibility with which we openly and justly charge them. They have signed the death-warrant of these young girls, of whose existence they are daily aware, and whose places, when delivered from their earthly slavery by death, are at once filled up by others brought into the same bondage under the seal of their own official permission.[31] Is it to be wondered at that the murderers of the young, the weak, the poor, the stranger and the fatherless who fill these State-protected _lupanars_, are literally aghast at the sight of a _young girl_ who cries to them in the name of the God of Justice, “Repent! for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;” and who, with divinely imparted power, strikes, unconsciously it may be, at the very heart of the secret covetousness or vileness which lies concealed beneath the exterior of the respectable citizen or man of the world who abets and permits this evil. We have seen men with heads lowered and averted eyes, as Catherine Booth reasoned of “temperance, justice, and judgment to come.” We have seen their faces grow pale, and their whole conduct become like that of men who see in the slight youthful form and pure face before them the spectre “risen from the dead” of _other_ youthful forms and _other_ faces which might have been transformed as these, and served their God in liberty and light. Their consciences cry out, “It is John the Baptist whom I beheaded;” “It is the womanhood, the pure girlhood which I destroyed, or to whose destruction I consented.” We have already seen who were the chief instigators of the opposition in Geneva to the young evangelists. Miss Booth received—when in prison at Neuchâtel—a letter from a Genevan convert, who had been an actor on the stage. He wrote:—“Tell Mrs. Butler that I now understand and rejoice in her work against the institutions of immorality. When she first came to Geneva, I did not understand it; but now I understand it.” For the light had entered his own soul, by which alone we are able to see all evil things in their true colours. It will be remembered by some that my first utterance on the Continent, nine years ago, was styled the “Voice of one crying in the wilderness.” It did not long remain a solitary voice, or without response, for its echoes were soon heard from all sides. Yet the thought has ever been deeply buried in my heart, that our, or rather God’s great work of abolition and purification would not be accomplished, or even very markedly advanced, until the baptism of water, (the moral purifying,) was crowned by the baptism of “fire and of the Holy Ghost;” and I have waited and watched for this fuller baptism, as “those that watch for the morning.” Those who are called to work for the consummation of this reform must be persons wholly consecrated, and filled with the Spirit of God. So far as we have been practically and radically successful in the work, it has been through such power and such instrumentality; and our God will not fail us in bestowing still further grace in the future. I commend the above considerations to my abolitionist fellow-workers, in the hope that they will see that, both as an old defender of the great legal principle of the rights and freedom of the individual, and as a believer in God and in His Christ, I could not refuse to obey the call of conscience in coming to the side of those in whose case these principles have been openly violated, and in pleading the cause—too little understood as yet—of those who, having wholly abandoned themselves to God and His service, have been directed by His unerring hand to the attack of the strongest fortresses of evil to which we can point in the world around us.

Sunday morning, September 9th, the morning of the memorable day on which the arrest in the Jura Forest took place, was one of those bright September mornings without a cloud in the sky, clear and crisp, in which all nature seems to be rejoicing and praising God. I had previously been in communication with the lessees of the Reformation Hall in Geneva, in order to engage the hall in my own name, with the purpose of holding a night of prayer on Monday (the following night). We much desired, on the eve of the departure of Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth from Switzerland to have such a meeting, to pray for a blessing on that land which we all love so much. The meeting in the Jura woods was to be Miss Booth’s farewell meeting with friends in Switzerland. We did not imagine at that moment that our plans for prayer in the Reformation Hall, and hers for a farewell conference with her friends previous to her journey to Paris, would all be changed, and that God had other plans for us. I had risen early that day, and was walking down the hill with a friend to the station, when we met a young Swiss officer, a messenger of the Salvation Army, whose face I did not know, but who recognised me; he put into my hand a letter from Col. Clibborn at Geneva. I stopped and read: “Our dear Wyssa died yesterday. The funeral will be to-morrow.” The death of Wyssa had been long expected; nevertheless it came suddenly at the last; and as at almost the same time I received information that the Reformation Hall could not be granted to me if Salvationists were to come there, it was decided that our gathering should take place instead around the grave of our friend. The messenger pursued his way with Mdlle. H. and others to Neuchâtel, and I took the early boat on the lake to my sister’s home near Rolle.

On this day, September 9th, the memorable meeting took place at Prise-Imer, in the Jura forest, some five miles above Neuchâtel. Miss Booth wrote:—“It was a day never to be forgotten. Long before the hour the people began to gather; several hundreds were assembled. The weather was beautiful. After so much trouble, fatigue and a long journey, we could meet to talk of the things of God. Hearts and voices rose together, and it cheered me much to look into the faces of our brave soldiers. There was no mistaking their zeal and determination to go forward. I was soon informed that the Prefect was present with the Chief Inspector of Police. There was a movement through the audience, but I continued to speak.”

The Prefect of Police appeared with the Chief of the Gendarmerie, and fifteen gendarmes (having had to scramble through the forest all that distance), bearing orders to break up the meeting and bring away Miss Booth by force. But they paused, overawed, touched—as anyone must be who has not a heart of stone—at such scenes as these meetings present. For nearly two hours those seventeen officers listened respectfully to the appeals of Catherine Booth, who, filled with the spirit of our Lord, was speaking such words of power and of holy compassion as few are able to resist. When she prayed, they stood with heads uncovered, and faces bent, joining silently. She prayed for the Prefect of Police, asking for him blessings, temporal and spiritual, with such sincerity and simplicity that he wept. She prayed also for the Government and nation of Switzerland. At the close several of the converts, who had formerly been criminals, gave their testimony, mentioning the fact that the police there knew them. One said, “I was in prison three years,” and he produced a little sensation in the assembly by pointing to one of the police, a detective in plain clothes, and saying, “that policeman knows me well; he took me to jail; but now I am another man.” The completely changed appearance of these men, and their open, joyous faces, impressed the Prefect more than all; these were “living witnesses.” He said to Miss Booth:—“This is a magnificent work, if it does but last; you do nothing but good. I beseech you not to hold me responsible for this act; I cannot bear to be held responsible for it. I, like others, had judged you without seeing or hearing you.”

As they left that pleasant place, Miss Booth said spontaneously, “How strange that we cannot worship God in these woods! What a pity to see all those fine trees standing idle, those beautiful forests silent and unused!” Captain Becquet was also arrested. M. Convert publicly stated at the arrest the Army had been a great blessing to himself and family. He said he had had Captain Becquet four months in his house, and he considered it an honour to have him; he loved him as a son; he had observed narrowly his life and conduct, and could testify to their being true to the Name which he professed.

At M. Convert’s house, the Prefect informed his prisoners of the warrant which had been issued for their arrest and the order to bring them immediately to Neuchâtel. Being a man of heart and kindly feeling, he refrained from telling them of the imprisonment which awaited them, leaving that for its instigator, M. Comtesse. The Prefect informed M. Convert that he had orders so harsh that he could not and would not carry them out.

Miss Booth asked if she and her companions might be allowed to _retire for that night_. The Prefect replied, “No,” though he was very considerate, seeing that she was much exhausted. But he was obliged to fulfil his duties as a servant of Government, and reminded her that he had not interrupted the meeting as he had orders to do.

Miss Booth and Captain Becquet were then taken to Neuchâtel to the house of M. Comtesse, President of the Conseil d’Etat, who had illegally ordered their arrest and imprisonment, the competent authorities having refused to do so. The prisoners having arrived at his house, M. Comtesse entered the room and said with an air which savoured of exultation, “YOU ARE MY PRISONERS, AND IT IS MY DUTY TO HAVE YOU LOCKED UP THIS NIGHT!” M. Convert pleaded that Miss Booth was his guest, and that he alone had called the meeting, deliberately, and with full consciousness of what he was doing. He asked to be allowed to bear the penalty. This was refused. Miss Booth desired to be allowed to attend a funeral at Geneva on the following day in fulfilment of a promise, and gave her word of honour to appear when the law should demand her presence. He replied—“Words of honour have no value with the Neuchâtel Government, but if M. Convert likes to stand bail for Miss Booth and Captain Becquet he can do so.” To this suggestion of M. Comtesse M. Convert assented, having obtained from the prisoners their promise to appear after the funeral. Miss Booth never having been in circumstances of the kind before, was not at all aware that “standing bail” meant a money guarantee, and was surprised to learn subsequently in Geneva that M. Convert had signed for 6,000 f. (£250), and had already paid down 300 f.

While absent, she received a telegram from a friend in Neuchâtel to say that unless she immediately presented herself to the authorities M. Convert would probably lose the money of his “caution.” Realising then for the first time that the burden and consequences of her illegally executed arrest and imprisonment were resting upon M. Convert and not upon the authorities (the real authors of these illegal and harsh measures), she felt—first, that she could not conscientiously allow the “caution” to remain; and, secondly, that she ought not in the interests of civil and religious liberty to relieve the authorities from any part of the consequences of having illegally arrested and imprisoned a British subject for the performance of an act of Divine worship, for which the fullest liberty is guaranteed not only by the Cantonal and Federal Constitutions, but also by the Treaty of September, 1855. She, therefore, with Captain Becquet, presented herself on Saturday morning, the 15th September, at the Hotel de Ville, Neuchâtel, saying that they were ready to meet the demands of the law, and desired that the responsibility of their acts should no longer remain upon their friends.

We must now go back, however, to the day following the arrest, Monday, September 9th, the day of Wyssa’s funeral.

Doubts have been expressed as to Miss Booth having acted wisely in re-entering the Canton of Geneva on this occasion. The step was taken with deliberation, however. We had obtained the opinions of Swiss gentlemen, old and tried friends, and among whom were some lawyers. It was generally agreed that it would be now not amiss to challenge the illegal decree of expulsion by acting as if it had no existence. At the same time this return for an hour or two to Geneva was not in any degree carried out by Miss Booth and her friends in a spirit of bravado; so far from that, it was her intention only to remain an hour or two to fulfil the dying request of her friend. She had a carriage in waiting, in which it was her intention to drive straight across the frontier again as soon as the interment was over; and she had made no provision for remaining in the Canton for a moment longer than was necessary for her to attend the ceremony, and speak some words over the grave of this, her son in the faith. On the other hand, the question had been for a long time discussed among Genevan citizens, defenders of law and constitutional right, as to the best means of bringing these illegal decrees of prohibition of meeting and of expulsion to the bar of the public opinion of the more enlightened classes, and of testing them by the law of the land. The only means of doing this effectually, it was agreed, was by having the question brought before the tribunals in some individual case. Never yet had this been done. Miss Booth and her companions had been judged and punished as criminals, _without ever having been brought before any Tribunal_. They were the victims of “summary jurisdiction” in its most extreme form. Happily the tribunals are not yet corrupted; this statement has been verified by the verdict of the jury at Boudry. On the one and only occasion on which the Salvationists have appeared before a regularly constituted tribunal of the country, they were pronounced _not guilty_. M. Audeoud at Geneva, and M. Convert at Neuchâtel, have on several occasions, deliberately and with grave intent and purpose, set aside the illegal decrees forbidding the meetings, in the hope that by so doing the matter might be forced before the tribunals, and that thus, by the simplest legal means in their power, they might bring to an end the present tyrannical, vexatious and immoral suspension of their ancient rights and liberties. It may be difficult for friends in England entirely to understand this position. Happily our respect for law in general makes us shrink from the idea of defying anything which has the smallest semblance of law; this is chiefly the case however with those persons who are so placed as never to feel any law pressing upon them at all uncomfortably, or who can peaceably buy off the obligation to obey it, if it should do so. The most wretched little police regulation fabricated in Scotland Yard seems to most Englishmen to have something of the sacredness of law about it. This is a result of a wholesome national education in the past, while it ought to be an indication to our legislators and police rulers of the greater danger they will ultimately incur if they take advantage of the law-abiding character of our people, in order to encroach upon their dearly prized liberties.

Before his death Charles Wyssa had asked that his body might be carried into the Reformation Hall, and the funeral service held there—in the place of his spiritual birth. But this request was refused. He was a “Salvationist,” sufficient reason why his desire that his mortal remains should there bear a last testimony to his Redeemer, should be refused.

But he had made another request, which _was_ granted. He had asked that the _Maréchale_ might speak at his grave; and though arrest and imprisonment might be the consequence, the dying request was too sacred to be weighed against the illegal degree of expulsion, which it was the deliberate opinion of many ought to be challenged.

About ten o’clock on the Monday morning the Salutistes began to gather at the farmhouse about a mile from Geneva, where their comrade had died. Members of the Salvation Army had arrived from Paris, Nîmes, Italy, and various parts of Switzerland. I was present, and was struck by the great affection which was felt by these fellow-workers for each other, and at the same time by the quiet and restrained manner in which they expressed their feelings. Those of Geneva greeted each other and their friends in short and condensed phrases. Few words, and brief and calm adieus were spoken, though the separations to follow might be long. They had the air of persecuted people, who have a great work on hand, and who look to the far future.

A circle was formed in front of the house of M. Wyssa, in the bright sunshine. The coffin was placed in the centre of the group, the father, mother, sisters, and brothers of the deceased being gathered round it. The Salvation Army flag was spread upon the coffin, surmounted by a branch of palm, sent by a friend from a tree just brought from Jericho to the Botanical gardens. Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth crossed the frontier at nine, reached the house in a closed carriage just as all was ready, and having spent a few minutes with the sorrowing family, accompanied them into the circle, followed by the officers. The service was opened with the hymn, “Plus que vainqueurs.” A blessed influence fell upon the whole assembly as we sang, like a soft breath from the world of glorified spirits where Charles had gone. We seemed in that hour separated from all the world. Col. Clibborn spoke briefly on the words, “we shall not all sleep; we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye.” Prayer was offered up; there was perfect tranquillity. Presently a slight movement was perceptible among those assembled, caused by the sudden appearance of the Mayor of the Commune at the outer edge of the circle. He declared that this was a reunion of the Salvation Army, and pronounced it to be dissolved, ordering us to disperse. It was striking to see the perfect calm with which the whole company received this challenge. No one moved; scarcely a head was turned to notice these words, which seemed to fall into that peaceful, solemn funeral circle as from another world—not the world into whose glories our spiritual eyes were following Charles. One could not help a feeling of sorrow and pity at the sight of that pale, agitated face, which looked over the heads of the group from the shadow of the trees, and which betrayed a state of soul so little in harmony with that world of light.

(This act of the Mayor in interrupting a funeral ceremony in the grounds of a private house, and without having his official badge, was a violation of the Swiss laws, and a formal protest was lodged the same evening by Madame Wyssa.)

Col. Clibborn explained, “We are about to bury a friend;” to which the Mayor replied, in tones which must have grated harshly on the ears of the weeping mother, “bury him then!” Col. Clibborn simply replied that “the earth is the Lord’s,” we had a right to bury a comrade in God’s earth, and that we would shortly proceed to the cemetery, (the time being limited by the law). Whereupon the Mayor withdrew, saying as he left that he would bring armed force unless the singing was discontinued. The following is from the report given in the Continental organ of the Army.[32] “Several voices then invited Mrs. Butler to continue the service.... She said she had watched with deep sympathy and interest the work in Switzerland. From the knowledge she had acquired in the course of her work against organized vice in its most terrible forms, she was not the least surprised at the treatment the Army had received; it was exactly what she would have expected in view of its open war with the terrible vices of the age. The day was coming when these hidden things of darkness would be revealed, and when things which were now whispered in secret would be proclaimed on the house-tops. ‘Take courage;’ she said, ‘you are now passing through a time of trial in which you are forbidden to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation freely. Remember Paul and Silas in the prison of Philippi. Their feet are bound with chains, the doubly-bolted door of their cell is strictly guarded. It is midnight, the darkest, coldest hour. They cannot escape. They can no longer carry abroad the good news, the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Sad and melancholy thoughts must surely have taken possession of their minds. Listen! they are singing—they, prisoners, bound, and at the dark midnight hour, are singing the praises of God. Those who hear them are amazed, for to rejoice and to sing at such a time and in such a place they must be madmen—or _Christians_! Follow their example, friends and comrades, rejoice and praise the Lord, even in your darkest hour, and the result will be the same for you as for them. As they sang, the prison doors were opened, and the chains of the prisoners fell to the ground; and mark this—not only were the apostles themselves free, but the chains of their fellow-prisoners were also loosed. So it will be with you. By your rejoicing faith, by your perseverance, by your fidelity unto death, not only the prohibitions which bind you will be withdrawn, but you shall see the liberation even of many around you who are tied and bound with the chains of their sins. It may be that God will grant you to deliver from a miserable bondage those very persons who now forbid you to preach Jesus in their midst, those rulers in Geneva who are yet strangers to the true liberty of the children of God, and who are miserable in their bondage.’ Turning to the mother of Charles Wyssa, she addressed to her some words of sympathy. She also had known a mother’s sorrow. She had given the name of Evangeline to her dear child—her only daughter—for it had been the desire of her heart that she should be a messenger of the gospel of peace to others. But God had taken her early to Himself.... She concluded by urging the members of the Salvation Army to be of good cheer. There might be much yet to suffer; but she believed that Switzerland was to be won for the Lord.”

It being a Salvationist’s funeral, the undertakers refused to send a bier and the customary mourning paraphernalia. The relatives had asked for the former, having never seen an Army funeral before. To them it was a new and touching spectacle to see the coffin of their comrade, still covered with the flag and palm, raised and placed upon the shoulders of six of Charles’s fellow-soldiers. Four members of the Geneva Corps and two of the Neuchâtel Corps were the bearers.

About three hundred persons had now collected, many of them external to the Salvation Army, and some strangers, attracted by sympathy. We moved on in a line very quietly from the house to the cemetery along the open high road, in the midst of many tokens of respectful sympathy from country people and others on the road. Before reaching the gate of the cemetery a police officer ran to meet us, and when we entered, the Mayor again appeared, and stood during the proceedings opposite to Miss Booth and her group of friends at the other side of the open grave. The coffin was lowered, while all stood around in perfect silence. Miss Booth then spoke on the beautiful words from the Revelations: “Who are these which are arrayed in white robes, and whence came they?” “Charles is now in that white-robed throng. He has passed through the tribulation. He has been faithful unto death. Every one who does anything worth doing must pass on through desperate struggle, pain, and tribulation. I wish this to be a day ever to be remembered by our Genevan soldiers. I desire and pray that fresh life, a Resurrection life, may be granted at this tomb for every soldier, that we may here this morning consecrate anew our lives and our all to rescue the perishing millions.”

“We are now passing through a tunnel in a rock, as it were, but light is on before, and if we go on without faltering or calculating consequences we shall come out into the light. Calvary seemed a dire defeat, but it was the grandest victory the world ever saw. Victory is ahead for us also if we are but faithful.” Then followed a powerful appeal, which moved almost all who heard it to tears. Even the Mayor, who had retired a little into the background, seemed touched. A few English travellers, who had gathered round from curiosity, appeared surprised and solemnized. Curiosity gave place to looks and attitudes of reverence and to signs of deep emotion as Miss Booth concluded with a prayer which seemed to bring us into the unseen world. As it ended, a softly chanted chorus rose round the open grave, “_Courage, soldats, vers le ciel avançons!_”

John Wyssa, the younger brother of Charles, then came forward to the edge of the open grave, and in a loud voice, trembling with emotion, said, “I give Charles’ dying message to all his fellow workmen, _that they choose the better part_, and meet him in heaven. It was through his prayers that I was won to choose that better part; his life drew me nearer to the Saviour, and his death has confirmed and strengthened me.” He then threw a handful of earth on the coffin with the words “_au revoir_, my brother.” It was just at that moment, and with the solemn penetrating words of the prayer Miss Booth had offered still ringing in the ears of all, that the Mayor with his Marshal approached, and arrested Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth,—there, in the presence of the dead. They having made their formal protest against the illegality of their expulsion, and having been told in reply by the police officer that armed force would be employed if necessary to bring them before the authorities, were conducted to the carriage which they had come in, and which was waiting to take them across the frontier. A large crowd had gathered, all in strong sympathy with the persons arrested. The coachman, who had been deeply impressed by the funeral service, refused to mount the box when he received the order to drive us to the Hotel de Ville, and it was not until we had told him positively to do so that he would move. The Salvation soldiers gathered round the carriage, proclaiming their determination to be faithful unto death. There was, in the midst of the enthusiasm, an entire absence of anything like hostility towards the authorities, although there was a movement of confusion and conflict owing to the crowd which had assembled, and the Mayor and his Marshal were for a moment hustled. The countenance of the former betrayed feelings of displeasure and distress; he appeared conscious that he was performing an unpopular, even an unjust act. A few Swiss Salutistes raised a shout of encouragement for us, and were arrested for doing so. We were driven to the Hotel de Ville, Col. Clibborn accompanying us. Clarke also, the faithful and loving attendant of Miss Booth, was allowed to come, and to remain with her during the time that she was detained. We reached the Hotel de Ville, and were passed on from room to room, having to wait a certain interval in each.

It cannot be said that we were treated with much courtesy during our detention (until the arrival of M. Cuenod). M. Héridier, whose part it should have been to be present on this occasion, again found reasons for not coming face to face with the persons whose arrest he had commanded. According to the _Journal de Genève_ he was communicating, however, during the whole time by means of a telephone from his own house, with the officials with whom we were shut up. The British Consul kindly came and remained with us.

I could not but admire the steadfastness of Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth under the questioning they underwent; Miss Charlesworth declined to sign the first form of deposition put before her. The officials became irritated, and complained of the trouble given them in re-writing it, expressing their irritation in a somewhat coarse and noisy fashion. Her countenance never changed. Her replies were uniformly gentle, but she was firm as a rock, calm, and at her ease, as though momentarily engaged in silent prayer to One whom she felt to be by her side. Surely these men—if they have any perception of degrees of moral worth—must have felt pained by the sense of their own immense inferiority to this gentle child. Miss Booth was, of course, asked why she had re-entered the Canton without permission. She replied by affirming, categorically, first, that her expulsion was illegal, she not having been guilty of any offence which could justify it; secondly, that it was a breach of the Treaty of Friendship, Commerce, and Establishment between England and Switzerland (she held in her hands at the time a copy of the Constitution of Geneva, and of the above Treaty); and thirdly that the Chief of the Department of Justice and Police had falsified a Cantonal police regulation in order to furnish an excuse for expelling her. The surprise and anger of her questioners on hearing this arraignment of their own acts and of their government were beyond description. For a moment Miss Booth was herself surprised when she saw the effect of her own words. She came through the open door to where I stood, and begged me to “look at these men!” asking, “What had I better say next?” I considered the effect on these officers of her just and courageous challenge so salutary that my advice was: “Go in and say the same words over again.” Having at first prompted Miss Booth to accuse her accusers thus, I told her at the time that I wished to share any responsibility with her for so doing, and that I hoped shortly to be able to prove all the assertions made by her, as above quoted. That engagement I have endeavoured to fulfil in the present narrative.

The arrival, after a considerable time, of M. Cuenod (the Chief of the Cantonal Police), a benevolent man, and a true gentleman, brought about a decision in her favour. We were dismissed. The two banished ladies were ordered at once to be conveyed to the frontier, while Col. Clibborn, whose only offence was that of joining in a funeral “procession”—a thing allowed every day—was warned not to do so again. A crowd awaited us as we left the Hotel de Ville. M. Cuenod said, in a very decided tone, to the police agent who was to conduct us to the frontier, “see that these ladies are treated with every possible courtesy.”

I cannot help mentioning what struck me, both in the course of our long, slow drive from the cemetery to the Town Hall, and also on leaving that office on our way to the frontier. In passing through the streets of Geneva, I took occasion to observe the nature of any expression of popular opinion which might be evidenced. I saw nothing hostile. Many poor people were passing along the streets, and amongst them continually one or another would turn to greet the Salutiste party, with a word of sympathy or a wave of the hand. One very poor woman, bonnetless and miserably dressed, gazed after us with much sympathy in her face. I observed one who was running up a passage as if to get out of sight, but on observing Miss Booth and her friends, she turned, and with a glowing face, shouted, “Salvation; Hallelujah; The Lord be with you,” and then disappeared into a cellar. There were also many poor men who raised their hats respectfully and silently. My general impression was that either there were not present here any of the roughs who had played such a disgraceful part in the winter, or else that the tide had somewhat turned in the popular mind. On the country road as we passed, there was nothing but respect and sympathy evident among those who passed, and those who straggled after us. Several gentlemen of our acquaintance, M. Lenoir and others, seeing us as we left the Hotel de Ville, engaged the first carriage they could find, and accompanied us to the frontier, so that our exit resembled rather a joyous procession than an expulsion. The police agent who accompanied us sat on the box of our carriage. In the carriage which preceded us was a company of merry Salvationists, who struck up one of their joyous hymns. It was really an invigorating drive along that beautiful road towards the Grand Salève, with the exquisite view of Mont Blanc all draped in dazzling snow, in front of us, and the afternoon sun throwing clear blue shadows from the nearer cliffs. The air seemed full of fragrance, and the song of the Salvationists as it rose and fell was in harmony with everything around.

When we arrived at the frontier we alighted at a little wayside house or inn, where a company of members or friends of the Army were already waiting, and still gathering from different parts. It was a pleasant and joyful meeting. I could not but observe, what indeed deserves to be constantly remembered, the utter absence of anything like anger or resentment, or any signs of recrimination on the part of the Salvationists toward those who oppose or illtreat them. They had endured insults enough “to provoke a saint,” as the saying is; but in this I think they bear the mark of true saints, inasmuch as they do love their enemies, bless them that curse them, and pray for them that despitefully use them and persecute them. The Marshal of the Mayor, who had accompanied us, lighted his cigar as he got down from the carriage, and was starting on his homeward road to Geneva in a dégagé manner; (he had not looked at all at his ease during the whole day). I admired, and I hope he too was touched by the gentle farewells which were addressed to him. “May God bless you,” “God be with you,” “We pray for you,” &c. This is constantly the language addressed by Salvationists to those who assail them, and to subalterns who, in their official capacity, are obliged to deal severely with them.

The only allusion which Miss Booth has ever made to Mme. de Gasparin, was in a letter written from Lausanne on the 16th February, 1883, just after her expulsion. She wrote:—

“Oh, my comrades, stand firm! Dare to obey your conscience. Follow Christ—the same Christ who is despised, hated, and rejected to-day as he was nearly nineteen centuries ago. As to the book of Mme. de Gasparin, I confine myself to pointing out the following facts:—(1.) This lady who has had the time to write a long brochure, has not been able to spare a moment to receive me. She put me off for fifteen days, the necessary time for the publication and circulation of her work. (2.) Mme. de Gasparin has not attended any of our meetings, and yet she attempts to describe them. (3.) Mme. de Gasparin has never spoken with any officer of the Salvation Army. The spirit which animates the garbled translation made by her of our orders speaks sufficiently. The day will come when all things will be revealed. I have a conviction, an assurance, that Mme. de Gasparin will regret then having written against a work that God has owned by so much blessing, and which has been in His hands the means of leading thousands of souls to the Saviour.”

I have seldom seen a more complete illustration of what is called English pluck than I have done while in company with the Salvationists. The ordinary English idea of courage is too generally connected with a readiness to resort to physical force; how often one hears the saying, “Why did he not knock the fellow down?” when telling of any particular insult sustained by the Salutistes. The courage exercised by these people is much greater than any which expresses itself by the exercise of muscular prowess. They are absolutely good tempered and calm in the midst of the most provoking and exasperating circumstances, and undaunted when facing the roughest mob. The following quotation may serve to represent the view taken of this matter by a Swiss looker-on.

“What strikes me most about these people is an extraordinary impression of power. I have felt this power on every side. In the first place, in the absolute sincerity of the personal testimonies given. Those who accuse these people of acting a part can never have seen them near. Secondly, I find this power in their perfect calmness, which never varies in the midst of the greatest noise, nor even in the midst of opposition and mockery all around, or of laughter, which is more difficult to bear. I am certain that those who imagine that they can trip them up have made a bad calculation. These soldiers are at home in an atmosphere of war as fishes are in the water. What chiefly produces this is their constant determination to put forward the person of the Saviour, to bring all the world to him, and, to that end, to forget themselves entirely. These men have left their country and every comfort, and for what human end? The power which they possess has its root in the unfeigned joy which pervades their whole being. It is this joyfulness which expresses itself in the words of Captain Becquet, spoken with that mixture of seriousness and jocularity too entirely English to be understood among ourselves: ‘Amen! my friends. When one is in Christ one feels oneself perfectly free and joyous. It is a grand thing to be entirely independent of public opinion. Hallelujah! As for me, let the journals say what they like about me. It runs off me like water off a duck’s back.’ When he said this, if I had not been afraid of being taken for one of the rioters, I should have been inclined to shout, ‘Right you are, Captain!’ Yes, no doubt, this Salvation Army has a wonderful power, and amongst all the criticisms which have been made of it there is one which certainly is most unsuitable. Their Christianity has been spoken of as ‘unmanly and effeminate.’ I find this rather too much. Just look at these people, many of them of naturally timid constitutions, inspired by their convictions with a courage to brave not only the fear of the mob—that is very little to them—but the daily opposition which results from such a witness as their lives present. Look at those men and women whom we saw the other day at Paris, who are constantly seen in England, knocked about, their heads broken, their lips bleeding, yet conscientiously persevering through all in observing the article of their rules which commands them in every such case to put their fists in their pockets. There is more still. There are men amongst them whose word seems to challenge and change the most degraded drunkards, and to bring them by dozens, nay, by hundreds, to repentance, conversion, and sobriety; who restore (this is not sentiment, it is simple history) to the wife and her children, the father transformed from a brute into a man. In the face of such things, can anyone speak of a morbid, effeminate Christianity? There is only one thing to reply to such accusers—‘Do as much yourselves, friends, with your manly Christianity.’ The rowdy and bitter opponents have been more clear-sighted than the critics it seems in this matter; for they have at least given their testimony that the Salvation Army is one of the greatest powers of the time.”

Col. Clibborn had had several interviews with the British Ambassador at Berne during the spring, and deposited with him a written demand on behalf of Miss Booth and Miss Charlesworth for justice and protection as British subjects, strongly urging upon him the necessity of immediate intervention. Thinking that by acting at the centre of Government, he might succeed in arresting the progress of persecution at Geneva, Miss Booth asked him to remain and see some influential people. He saw Col. von Buren and the President of the Republic; the latter advised him to send to him an appeal, which proved of no immediate use. Col. Clibborn had not the least idea when leaving Geneva that the police would at once be upon his track; they came to his house the next day, and not finding him, they then went to Miss Booth’s house. He heard nothing of their search for him till afterwards.

He was himself expelled from the Canton of Geneva about a week after the funeral of Charles Wyssa; his offences being that he had walked in a funeral procession (a thing allowed and practised continually), and that he had written an article on Arnold von Winkelried. This article was a very beautiful call to the exercise of a spirit of self-sacrifice, illustrated by the brave act of that Swiss hero.

I give the following comment on Col. Clibbon’s expulsion in the original from _En Avant_:—

“L’arrêté d’expulsion en date du 18 Septembre est basé sur les trois motifs suivants:

“1^o Sa ‘_conduite donnerait lieu à des plaintes_.’

“Le seul point qui a été signalé dans l’interrogatoire est d’avoir écrit l’article: ‘On demande des Arnold de Winkelried’ dans le numéro de _En Avant!_ du 1^{er} juillet.

“2^o D’avoir ‘_contrevenu à l’arrêté du Conseil d’Etat interdisant les exercices de l’Armée du Salut_.’

“C’est-à-dire d’avoir, au commencement du mois d’août, deux dimanches, à 7 heures du matin, dans le local privé, présidé deux réunions de prière et d’y avoir lu la Bible, parlé, prié Dieu et chanté. Il ne fut question dans l’interrogatoire que de ces deux réunions.

“3^o D’avoir ‘_violé la loi sur le culte extérieur_.’

“Le seul fait qui lui a été reproché sous ce rapport, est d’avoir pris part au cortège funèbre de Charles Wyssa et d’avoir chanté un cantique sur la route.

“Il n’existe aucune loi en Suisse interdistant de chanter sur la voie publique; pas plus qu’il n’en existe qui défende de prendre part à un cortège funèbre.

“D’ailleurs les chants ont cessé à la première sommation.”