The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1895-05-15
SALVATION AT MIDNIGHT.
A Striking Scene in the Heart of Lon-
don.

s1Q0 OF the OtrSsuO tOWdru WnlG0Aali.
My hands were stuck deep in my pock-
cts, my good old American corncob pipe
was in my mouth, and was indulging
in the choice luxury of thinking sadly
and dreamily about nothing when sud-
denly the street was filled with a great
blaring from brass instruments. The
tolling of the midnight bells was
drowned, and l was brought to full
realizing Of things and of where I was.
And then there came the sound of many
voices. People were singing hymn-a
simple, moving hymn. You felt their
souls were speaking through it.
I hurried along the Strand till came
up with a large crowd of people who
were pushing and jostling their way in
to Exeter hall. The Salvation Army
was holding a midnight rescue" a
meeting chiefly for the benefit of the
poor unfortunate girls who fill the
Strand each night, offering themselves
for sale to the men as they pass.
Come in, every one Come ini
Drunk or sober. come in"' a Salvation
Army officer was shouting at the top of
his voice. The privates, some singing,
some playing instrumnts, stood aleng
the steps leading into the hall. They
were formed into two long rows through
which the people were passing. A
drunken man reeled and fell, and a pri-
vate picked him up and helped him in.
Ragged "dossers - or tramps, half
drunken swelIs about town, now and
then a closely yelled lady of fashion at
tracted through curiosity, and unfortu-
nate girls thronged i'll. Here were blend
ing filth, elegance, degradation and re-
spectability. There was no sneering
glance for either "dosser'' or drab.
All corners were on the same footing.
Here was being practiced the glorious
ideal democracy which the sublime Gal
ilean had dvocated-that democracy
which the cultured, refined church has
dishonored.
went in myself, and this was the
scene that met my eyes: On great high
platform at least 500 men and women
clad in the uniform Of the Salvation
Army were singing, playing instru-
ments, clapping their hands, exhorting,
stamping and crying out to God to save
the souls of the audience. 1t was a car
nival a frenzy of exhortation. The rows
of seats upon the platform went up one
above the other like those in the gallery
of theater, SO that the eye was able to
take in all the movements at once I
felt no sense of discordance through it
all. The unition of their wills upon the
one idea gave balance, harmoniousness,
to the ensemble. The power Of this Will
force was tremendous. 1t caused a trem-
bling of the lips and feeling of q chok
ing sensation. I felt this myself, a
cool analyst--and I looked around me
and saw that the audience, which must
have numbered between 5000 and
1900, were feeling it too. Those of
them that had come in either to scOff or
out Of curiosity or to look on critically
were influenced and made serious by
the great wave of religious fervor that
came from the platform. It was the
most effective religious ceremonial I
ever witnessed. It's lack of splendor, of
tone and coloring and magic of high art
was more than atoned for by it's earnest
ness. Workingman was appealing to
Workingman; Outcast was exhOrting out
cast Here was no refined, we'll groomed
minister talking of a Christ whom he
did not understand. In the middle Of
the platform was great leather covered
chair, i'll which sat an old man. His
hair and beard were long and white; his
eyes were large and piercing; his fore
head was broad and high. When he
turned his head, he showed the clear
cut eagle profile which denotes admins
trative faculty, knowledge of men and
power of concentration.
It was General Booth.
AS I looked at him I thought of pic
lures I had seen of the simple, grand
old Jewish patriarchs. Here was one of
them who had sprung to the present life
to work amid the mire and misery and
| filth and slough of the inferno of our
civilization Here at the dead Of night,
in this Titan Babylon, was an old man,
Jewish of face, holding forth the hand
for help and brotherhood to the Magda-
lenes, the poor lost souls that wander
He was doing as did the glorious Mas
ter, the divine Jew!
Soon a rough looking bearded man
was speaking. He was collier from
the north Of England, strong and vigor-
GUS of frame. His voice was hoarse, his
delivery uncouth, but he had something
to tell and was telling it. Nice hair
splitting, hewildering subtleties were
not i'll his line. And he was in dead
earnest. He WASH t thinking how not to
offend his audience or of the fact that
he was only getting SO, 600 a year
when he ought to be getting $40, 500.
| thought of the rough, simple fisher
men, the disciples of the Master. 1t was
the first time in my life that the fact
was fully brought home to me that a
man might know absolutely nothing of
the art of oratory and still be most tell
ing and effective in the addressing of an
l a
learned afterward could neither read
nor write, holding people spellbound.
Now a woman was speaking-a wo-
man who had been an outcastl She, too,
was effective, but in different way.
Her manner of delivery was graceful
and tender-thoroughly beautifully