CHAPTER VII.
CAN IT BE DONE, AND HOW?
SECTION 1.—THE CREDENTIALS OF THE SALVATION ARMY.
Can this great work be done? I believe it can. And I believe that it can be done by the Salvation Army, because it has ready to hand an organisation of men and women, numerous enough and zealous enough to grapple with the enormous undertaking. The work may prove beyond our powers. But this is not so manifest as to preclude us from wishing to make the attempt. That in itself is a qualification which is shared by no other organisation—at present. If we can do it we have the field entirely to ourselves. The wealthy churches show no inclination to compete for the onerous privilege of making the experiment in this definite and practical form. Whether we have the power or not, we have, at least, the will, the ambition to do this great thing for the sake of our brethren, and therein lies our first credential for being entrusted with the enterprise.
The second credential is the fact that, while using all material means, our reliance is on the co-working power of God. We keep our powder dry, but we trust in Jehovah. We go not forth in our own strength to this battle, our dependence is upon Him who can influence the heart of man. There is no doubt that the most satisfactory method of raising a man must be to effect such a change in his views and feelings that he shall voluntarily abandon his evil ways, give himself to industry and goodness in the midst of the very temptations and companionships that before led him astray, and live a Christian life, an example in himself of what can be done by the power of God in the very face of the most impossible circumstances.
But herein lies the great difficulty again and again referred to, men have not that force of character which will constrain them to avail themselves of the methods of deliverance. Now our Scheme is based on the necessity of helping such.
Our third credential is the fact that we have already out of practically nothing achieved so great a measure of success that we think we may reasonably be entrusted with this further duty. The ordinary operations of the Army have already effected most wonderful changes in the conditions of the poorest and worst. Multitudes of slaves of vice in every form have been delivered not only from these habits, but from the destitution and misery which they even produce. Instances have been given. Any number more can be produced. Our experience, which has been almost world-wide, has ever shown that not only does the criminal become honest, the drunkard sober, the harlot chaste, but that poverty of the most abject and helpless type vanishes away. Our fourth credential is that our Organisation alone of England's religious bodies is founded upon the principle of implicit obedience.
For Discipline I can answer. The Salvation Army, largely recruited from among the poorest of the poor, is often reproached by its enemies on account of the severity of its rule. It is the only religious body founded in our time that is based upon the principle of voluntary subjection to an absolute authority. No one is bound to remain in the Army a day longer than he pleases. While he remains there he is bound by the conditions of the Service. The first condition of that Service is implicit, unquestioning obedience. The Salvationist is taught to obey as is the soldier on the field of battle.
From the time when the Salvation Army began to acquire strength and to grow from the grain of mustard seed until now, when its branches overshadow the whole earth, we have been constantly warned against the evils which this autocratic system would entail. Especially were we told that in a democratic age the people would never stand the establishment of what was described as a spiritual despotism. It was contrary to the spirit of the times, it would be a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence to the masses to whom we appeal, and so forth and so forth.
But what has been the answer of accomplished facts to these predictions of theorists? Despite the alleged unpopularity of our discipline, perhaps because of the rigour of military authority upon which we have insisted, the Salvation Army has grown from year to year with a rapidity to which nothing in modern Christendom affords any parallel. It is only twenty-five years since it was born. It is now the largest Home and Foreign Missionary Society in the Protestant world. We have nearly 10,000 officers under our orders, a number increasing every day, every one of whom has taken service on the express condition that he or she will obey without questioning or gainsaying the orders from Headquarters. Of these, 4,600 are in Great Britain. The greatest number outside these islands, in any one country, are in the American Republic, where we have 1,018 officers, and democratic Australia, where we have 800.
Nor is the submission to our discipline a mere paper loyalty. These officers are in the field, constantly exposed to privation and ill-treatment of all kinds. A telegram from me will send any of them to the uttermost parts of the earth, will transfer them from the Slums of London to San Francisco, or despatch them to assist in opening missions in Holland, Zululand, Sweden, or South America. So far from resenting the exercise of authority, the Salvation Army rejoices to recognise it as one great secret of its success, a pillar of strength upon which all its soldiers can rely, a principle which stamps it as being different from all other religious organisations founded in our day.
With ten thousand officers, trained to obey, and trained equally to command, I do not feel that the organisation even of the disorganised, sweated, hopeless, drink-sodden denizens of darkest England is impossible. It is possible, because it has already been accomplished in the case of thousands who, before they were saved, were even such as those whose evil lot we are now attempting to deal with.
Our fifth credential is the extent and universality of the Army. What a mighty agency for working out the Scheme is found in the Army in this respect! This will be apparent when we consider that it has already stretched itself through over thirty different Countries and Colonies, with a permanent location in something like 4,000 different places, that it has either soldiers or friends sufficiently in sympathy with it to render assistance in almost every considerable population in the civilised world, and in much of the uncivilised, that it has nearly 10,000 separated officers whose training, and leisure, and history qualify them to become its enthusiastic and earnest co-workers. In fact, our whole people will hail it as the missing link in the great Scheme for the regeneration of mankind, enabling them to act out those impulses of their hearts which are ever prompting them to do good to the bodies as well as to the souls of men.
Take the meetings. With few exceptions, every one of these four thousand centres has a Hall in which, on every evening in the week and from early morning until nearly midnight on every Sabbath, services are being held; that nearly every service held indoors is preceded by one out of doors, the special purport of every one being the saving of these wretched crowds. Indeed, when this Scheme is perfected and fairly at work, every meeting and every procession will be looked upon as an advertisement of the earthly as well as the heavenly conditions of happiness. And every Barracks and Officer's quarters will become a centre where poor sinful suffering men and women may find sympathy, counsel, and practical assistance in every sorrow that can possibly come upon them, and every Officer throughout our ranks in every quarter of the globe will become a co-worker.
See how useful our people will be in the gathering in of this class. They are in touch with them. They live in the same street, work in the same shops and factories, and come in contact with them at every turn and corner of life. If they don't live amongst them, they formerly did. They know where to find them; they are their old chums, pot-house companions, and pals in crime and mischief. This class is the perpetual difficulty of a Salvationist's life. He feels that there is no help for them in the conditions in which they are at present found. They are so hopelessly weak, and their temptations are so terribly strong, that they go down before them. The Salvationist feels this when he attacks them in the tap-rooms, in the low lodging houses, or in their own desolate homes. Hence, with many, the Crusader has lost all heart. He has tried them so often. But this Scheme of taking them right away from their old haunts and temptations will put new life into him and he will gather up the poor social wrecks wholesale, pass them along, and then go and hunt for more.
Then see how useful this army of Officers and Soldiers will be for the regeneration of this festering mass of vice and crime when it is, so to speak, in our possession. All the thousands of drunkards, and harlots, and blasphemers, and idlers have to be made over again, to be renewed in the spirit of their minds, that is—made good. What a host of moral workers will be required to accomplish such a gigantic transformation. In the Army we have a few thousands ready, anyway we have as many as can be used at the outset, and the Scheme itself will go on manufacturing more. Look at the qualifications of these warriors for the work!
They have been trained themselves, brought into line and are examples of the characters we want to produce.
They understand their pupils—having been dug out of the same pit. Set a rogue to catch a rogue, they say, that is, we suppose, are formed rogue. Anyway, it is so with us. These rough-and-ready warriors will work shoulder to shoulder with them in the same manual employment. They will engage in the task for love. This is a substantial part of their religion, the moving instinct of the new heavenly nature that has come upon them. They want to spend their lives in doing good. Here will be an opportunity.
Then see how useful these Soldiers will be for distribution! Every Salvation Officer and Soldier in every one of these 4,000 centres, scattered through these thirty odd countries and colonies, with all their correspondents and friends and comrades living elsewhere, will be ever on the watch-tower looking out for homes and employments where these rescued men and women can be fixed up to advantage, nursed into moral vigour, picked up again on stumbling, and watched over generally until able to travel the rough and slippery paths of life alone.
I am, therefore, not without warrant for my confidence in the possibility of doing great things, if the problem so long deemed hopeless be approached with intelligence and determination on a scale corresponding to the magnitude of the evil with which we have to cope.