SERVICES IN THIRTY-FOUR LANGUAGES
On the following Sunday in sixty-nine countries and colonies the world over two hundred thousand soldiers of the Salvation Army, speaking thirty-four different languages, conducted impressive memorial services in honor of those of the Empress dead who belonged to that organization. It is estimated that upwards of 2,700,000 people gathered in all the citadels and buildings of the Army to mourn for the one hundred and thirty-eight of the Army that went beneath the waves in the St. Lawrence.
In a special memorial service held in Albert Hall, London, General Booth paid special tribute to those who had perished for their lives of service to the cause and for the many sacrifices they had made. Their trials were now over, their warfare had ceased, he said, and victory was theirs. He spoke in highest terms of Commissioner Rees and of Colonel and Mrs. Maidment. While the Army had been deprived of some of its most valuable officers, and while he, above all others, felt the great blow, yet there seemed no limit to the evidences that good fruit would follow from the sorrowful trial.
CHAPTER X
Crippling Loss to Salvation Army
JOY OF FAREWELL SERVICE TURNED TO GRIEF—SCENES AT HEADQUARTERS AS SAD NEWS CAME—REUNIONS THAT FAILED—HEART-BREAKING RETURN OF THE FEW—REVERENT CROWDS WAITING—ENSIGN PUGMIRE’S STORY—STORY OF BANDSMAN GREEN—“IN GOD’S HANDS”—RE-DEDICATION TO WORK—SALVATIONISTS BRAVE TO THE END—MAJOR ATWELL’S EXPERIENCE—SUNDAY SERVICES IN TORONTO—FLOWER OF ARMY AMONG THE LOST—HUNDREDS SAIL ON OLYMPIC—LOSS TO ARMY IN CANADA
ON the night before the Empress of Ireland sailed for the last time from Quebec a thousand people thronged the body of the spacious hall in the Salvation Army Temple in Toronto. Before them, ranged in tiers on the platform, sat almost a hundred men and women, their hearts beating high with the supreme happiness of meeting loved ones in the home land. They were the envied of all. Not a soul of the thousand friends but wished himself in their place, but longed to join them on their trip to the International Congress in London.
The service was arranged as a farewell—for a short space. And none dreamed that the chasm of eternity yawned between the last sad parting and a meeting that will never take place on this side of the grave. That little uniformed band had done their work; Toronto would know them no more.
“God be with you till we meet again,” sang the throng of spectators, and the Staff and Temple Bands tuned their instruments to the refrain. As the strains of the solemn melody died away, the last note was sounded that man will ever hear played by those devoted men.