Next morning was Sunday. After presenting letters of introduction to one or two influential residents, I and Dodd strolled about the town. The streets are wide, with here and there a number of good shops. ‘The Mechanics,’ which includes a school of mines, is a fine building. ‘The Mechanics,’ the chief feature in which is a reading-room, is an institution to be found in most colonial towns.
The chief street in Sandhurst is called Pall Mall. Right in the middle of it there are the poppet-heads of a gold mine. When coal has been discovered under London, there may possibly be a coal mine in the original Pall Mall. I saw a lake in the domain and also a fernery. Ferneries are not uncommon in this part of the world. They consist of a collection of rockeries covered with tree-ferns, beneath the fronds of which there is a maze-like arrangement of damp paths. The only objection to these artificial groupings of natural objects is, that after having once entered them, you are afraid that it will be difficult to find your way out. It being Sunday, all was very quiet. In the afternoon the quietness was disturbed by the howlings of a Salvationists’ procession.
It started from a large building called the Salvation Army Barracks, in front of the hotel. At the head of the procession there was a man bearing a red banner, on which was written ‘Blood and Fire.’ Next came the band dressed in a militia-like uniform, each man with the name of his religion labelled on his cap. Behind these came a great number of women in coal-scuttle-shaped bonnets and blue dresses. They were labelled like the men. These uniforms can be purchased at the Salvation Army stores. Behind all there came the riffraff of the town. Mixed up with the front part of the regiment were a number of young men also in uniform, who pivoted and pranced about as if imitating David. They led the procession. To encourage people to join them, the prancers flicked their pocket-handkerchiefs as if beckoning. It was very interesting, and more especially so as it was accompanied by lively music. I met with Salvationists, their barracks, their stores, and their provisions throughout the colony.
The Salvation Army publishes an organ called the War Cry, which circulates in many parts of the colonies. The only one I saw was chiefly filled with reports as to the progress of regiments in different districts. Parts of the reports—but for the spirit in which we suppose they are put forward—sound like blasphemy, and I refrain from quoting them. The bulk of them contain numerous ejaculations about Hallelujah and Salvation, and are filled with contradictory statements. Much relating to the firing of guns is incomprehensible.
Here are a few specimens of War Cry literature, taken at random from a copy picked up on an hotel table:—
‘Captain Perry reports from Nelson that one dear man had walked 800 miles to gain salvation. The barracks were packed. Great conviction; but they went away blinded by the devil’s delusive plaister—“Not to night.” Lord save them is our prayer. Hallelujah! Cry going up. Look out, Sydenham! we’re going to flog you! Will do it, too!’
‘Auckland reports that the Marshal held the people spell-bound, and accompanied the singing with the piano. £13 4s. collected. Hallelujah!’
‘At Lyttelton, one sailor who had been tossing about the ocean of life, took passage in the Gospel Ship, and shipped right through viâ Calvary, and all the people said, Amen.’
One article was devoted to a threatened invasion of China.
‘In six weeks the first contingent was to be stationed at one of the protected ports, Hong-kong, Canton, or Shanghai.’ ‘We shall dress like Chinese,’ said Marshal Booth; ‘take Chinese food, and try to come down to the level of the Chinese themselves.’