THE SALVATION ARMY.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2869, 5 June 1882, Page 2

THE SALVATION ARMY.

“One, of the Crowd,” who contributes verv skilfully prepared sketches to the “Daily TMegraplq” filled two:columns ofjlhat Journal recently, with the account of a. visit paid to a service in the People’s Hall, Whitechapel road. Wo quote the concluding portion There was an exceedingly devout couple on a scat not far distant from me, and it was evident that the woman wished; her husband to rise and say ,somethin':, and that he was equally anxious that sho should do so. And presently she did. Her speech was briefer than that Of- anyone who hud spoken previously. “ I thank God for his goodness to mo, but more especially

I thank him for the blessed change that, through his servants who worship ! in this place, ho lias made in my husband. I beseech the prayers of everyone here that ho may hold fast to the good'cause.’’ To tell the truth the husband she was speaking of was not a likely-looking subject. Though decently dressed he was , still a roughlooking fellow of the bullnccked and heavyjawed type, with a countenance expressive of anything but gentleness of spirit and , meek'submission, to any amount of persecution for religion’s sake. Yet there could be no doubt, whatever the strange means by which the miracle had been wrought, that the man was thoroughly enthralled and made captive, for the time being at all events, to the principles of Salvatiouism. More frequently perhaps than any other was his deep gruff voice uttering loud, and to those near him, startlingly sudden, ejaculations of approval at particular points and periods of the preacher’s discourse. When the congregation knelt down to pray he was not satisfied to bow the knees and cover tlie face with one band, but he must turn bodily round, with his fists clenched and his arm encircling his head, while his forehead pressed against the hard seat. He groaned and sobbed so, and made such dismal noises, that his wife did her best to comfort him, patting his broad back with her work-worn old hand, and whispering to him to bear up and be glad, though all the time her own cheeks were wet, and her eyes red with weeping. So strangely did the man seem affected, that when the service was at an end and Hie congregation departed, my curiosity was aroused, and I kept the pair in sight. Walking down, the ’Whitechapel road -by their side. I took the liberty of questioning them as to bow long it was since they joined: the Salvation Army, and how they had been induced to turn their religious attention in that direction. After what I had witnessed of the behaviour of both, I •was not surprised to find that they were disposed to speak with freedom on the subject. For a moment the woman hesitated, but her husband, who still occasionally applied his pocket handlerchief to his eyes, exclaimed' “ Toll him, old gai ; tell him all. about it. Don’t hide nothing. I didn’t .when at last I was marched off ray legs, and; cried out to the , Lord to catch hold of . me. And die put. forth his hand and did if, bless his holy -name.” Ho spoke these words aloud, and with his hands clasped and raised above his head. “Well, you must know, sir,’’ the woman began, “ my husband and me were not brought up to see the light of truth and glory at the same time. How I came to seek it “ How she came to seek it,” the man interrupted her, “ was because she had for her husband as hard and ns cruel a beast as ever a poor soul was tethered to. That was me. I was the curse of her life, sir. I’m.a slaughterman by trade, but half my time I used to be too lazy to work at it, and I used to make This poor little bundle o’ bones work for mo at the washtub. or at scrubbing/ or at charring—anything. What did I care so long as I could wait on her for a shilling when she came home at night, to find me in beer and ’bacco? and I didn’t let her off at that. I used’ to fist her. It is to the glory of the Lord that I confess to it. He can wash white as snow the heart of such a wretch as I used to be ; and I confess, sir, that I used to fist her often, I fisted her wuss than ever when’l’’found, out that she used; to come on the quiet to the hall here. I was that mad’jealous of her doing it that I used to feel like killing her sometimes. It used to seem to me that she did it on purpose to show mo up, and make me feel ashamed of myself. It didn’t seem half so had to do as I was doing when she fired up at me and swore back when ! sworo.at her, 'and sometimes 'caught up something and fetched me a clout with it when I came home drunk and began fisting her. But when she began to go to the hall, sir, she Took a turn—a turn that raised the devil in mo that strong that it was a wonder that I did not rnurdcr her, No matter how I listed her. she took-it meek, and wiped the blood off her mouth and said ■ May the Lord forgive you, as I do, Jack!” I used to bo . furious then, and go at her and fist her till she hadn’t got any voice left to crow over me. But next morning, sir, she’d be bright and cheerful; and if I : said anything taunting she’d make answer ‘lean Wait/ jack. It is not you and me that is rustling (wrestling), lad ; it is th.e .deyil in you fighting against the Lord in me., ;The victory may be far off, but I can wait, for it is certain.” Praise be to his. glorious name, sir, the victory was not far off/ It was nigher than she thought. /She come sadden, sir, as I’d fell a beast with an axe. I’d been fisting her cruel, for I was malicious drunk that night,till I thought-I’d done for her quite. She lay on The .floor so still, with the blood atrickling from her forehead, and I was growing frightened and sober, when she comes to her senses and pulls herself up on her knees by catching hold of the bedstead, and, sez she, ‘ Oli, Lord, don’t he too bard on my . poor husband. Take pity on him for my sake', and loosen the hold the devil has on him.’ And as I sat there on the chair, sir, staggered and wandering, she managed to get up, and, sez she, ‘ Oh, dear Jack, I may be dying. I think J am. Let. me hear you say “ Oh, God, forgive me!” and I shall die- happy;’ But I didn’t say it. I couldn't. I was so Took aback and ’mazed, that I was dumb. I was dumb through all that night,. sir, and .she never lot me go; aud it wasn’t till the 'morning’s light that; I found a voice to say what she asked me hours before. There’s the story from first to last, sir, and that’s how I came to join the Salvationists, and the reason why I mean, within y wife’s 'help, to stick to them while I’ve got living strength. I don’t know who you are, sir, or your meaning for getting mo-into,talk,.;' but I’ll make bold to ask you one question, now I’m done—D.v’o blame me for sticking to om?” ' Under the circumstances, there was, of course, but one answer to the question; and I gave it unhesitatingly.