The Booths had settled in a London home, finding that they must needs have some fixed resting-place for their children, and that abundant opportunities of one kind or another could be found for them both in the metropolis. But The General, who was "waiting upon God, and wondering what would happen" to open his way to the unchurched masses, received an invitation to undertake some services in a tent which had been erected in an old burial-ground in Whitechapel, the expected missioner having fallen ill! He consented, and he thus describes his experiences:--
"When I saw those masses of poor people, so many of them evidently without God or hope in the world, and found that they so readily and eagerly listened to me, following from Open-Air Meeting to tent, and accepting, in many instances, my invitation to kneel at the Saviour's feet there and then, my whole heart went out to them. I walked back to our West-End home and said to my wife:--
"'O Kate, I have found my destiny! These are the people for whose Salvation I have been longing all these years. As I passed by the doors of the flaming gin-palaces to-night I seemed to hear a voice sounding in my ears, "Where can you go and find such heathen as these, and where is there so great a need for your labours?" And there and then in my soul I offered myself and you and the children up to this great work. Those people shall be our people, and they shall have our God for their God.'"
Mrs. Booth herself wrote:--
"I remember the emotion that this produced in my soul. I sat gazing into the fire, and the Devil whispered to me, 'This means another departure, another start in life!' The question of our support constituted a serious difficulty. Hitherto we had been able to meet our expenses out of the collections which we had made from our more respectable audiences. But it was impossible to suppose that we could do so among the poverty-stricken East-Enders--we were afraid even to ask for a collection in such a locality.
"Nevertheless, I did not answer discouragingly. After a momentary pause for thought and prayer, I replied, 'Well, if you feel you ought to stay, stay. We have trusted the Lord once for our support, and we can trust Him again!'"
"That night," says The General, "The Salvation Army was born."
Before long God moved the heart of one of the most benevolent men in England, Mr. Samuel Morley, to promise them his influence and support without any condition but the continuance of the work thus begun. But no amount of monetary help could have placed The General in a position to establish anything like the permanent work he desired. He writes:--
"I had hardly got successfully started on this new path before my old experience of difficulty met me once more. On the third Sunday morning, I think it was, we found the old tent which formed our cathedral, blown down, and so damaged by the fall, as well as so rotten, that it could not be put up again. Another tent was impossible, as we had no money to buy one; so, as no suitable building could be obtained, there was nothing for it but for us to do our best out of doors.
"After a time we secured an old dancing-room for Sunday Meetings. But, there being no seats in it, our Converts had to come at 4 o'clock on Sunday morning to bring the benches in, and work till midnight, or later still, when the day's Meetings were over, to move them out again. For our week-night Meetings we had hired an old shed, formerly used to store rags in, and there we fought for months."
What a testimony to the character of the work already accomplished, and the readiness of the little force already raised to toil like pioneer soldiers for the love of Christ!
Most of the Converts of those days "had been forgiven much." The following letter from one of them may give some idea both of the nature of the work done, and the surrounding circumstances:--
"Dear Sir,--I have reason to bless the hour that God put the thought into your head to open the Mission at the East-End of London, for it has been the means of making me and my family happy in the love of Christ; it has turned me from a drunkard, blasphemer, and liar, to a true believing Christian. At the age of thirteen, I went as a waiter-boy in a public-house, where I remained until I was sixteen. Here I learned to love the flavour of drink, and I never lost it until I was converted to God, through the blessed words spoken in the open air. When I look back, and think how I have beaten my poor wife--it was through the drink--it makes me ashamed of myself. It was the word and the blow, but sometimes the blow first. After I got sober, sometimes it would make me ashamed to look at her black eyes; but I do thank God there is no fear of black eyes now; for we are very happy together.
"I am a stoker and engine-driver, and I wonder I have never had an explosion, for I have been drunk for a week at a time. On one occasion, I had been drunk overnight, and was not very sober in the morning. I went to work at half-past five, instead of five, and, without looking to see if there was any water in the boiler, I began stoking the fire up. The fright sobered me. It cost above £100 before it was fit for work again. But that did not alter me, only for the worse. I broke up my home. I got worse, after that, and cared for nothing. Half my wages went in drink, my wife was afraid to speak to me, and the poor children would get anywhere out of my way. Afterwards I was discharged; but although I soon got another job, I could not leave off the drink. I was reckoned a regular drunkard. I lost place after place, and was out of work several weeks at a time; for they did not care to employ a drunkard. Still, I would have beer somehow, I did not care how. I have given one and sixpence for the loan of a shilling, and though there was not a bit of bread at home, the shilling went in beer.
"I have often had the police called in for ill-using my wife. On one occasion she ran down to her mother's, with her face bleeding; but I went to bed. When I woke, I saw she was not there, so I went out and got drunk. I came home and got a large carving-knife, put it up my sleeve, and went down to her mother's, with the intention of killing her; but they saw the knife. The police were called in, and I was taken to Spitalfields Station. But no one coming to press the charge, I got off.
"Eight years ago God thought fit to lay me on a bed of sickness for thirteen weeks, and I was given up by all the doctors. When I got better, people thought I would alter my life, and become a steady man; but no, I was as bad as ever. While I was at work, another time, drunk, I lost one of my eyes by an accident; but even that did not make me a sober man, nor make me leave off swearing and cursing. I was generally drunk two or three times on Sundays. The Sunday that I was convinced I was a sinner I had been drunk twice.
"I did not think there was so much happiness for me; but I do thank God for what He has done for me. He has changed my heart, He has filled me full of the love of Christ; and my greatest desire is to tell sinners what a dear Saviour I have found."