In Darkest England and The Way Out [156]
How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the Kingdom of Heaven! It is easier to make a hundred poor men sacrifice their lives than it is to induce one rich man to sacrifice his fortune, or even a portion of it, to a cause in which, in his half-hearted fashion, he seems to believe. When I look over the roll of men and women who have given up friends, parents, home prospects, and everything they possess in order to walk bare-footed beneath a burning sun in distant India, to live on a handful of rice, and die in the midst of the dark heathen for God and the Salvation Army, I sometimes marvel how it is that they should be so eager to give up all, even life itself, in a cause which has not power enough in it to induce any reasonable number of wealthy men to give to it the mere superfluities and luxuries of their existence. From those to whom much is given much is expected; but, alas, alas, how little is realised! It is still the widow who casts her all into the Lord's treasury--the wealthy deem it a preposterous suggestion when we allude to the Lord's tithe, and count it boredom when we ask only for the crumbs that fall from their tables.
Those who have followed me thus far will decide for themselves to what extent they ought to help me to carry out this Project, or whether they ought to help me at all. I do not think that any sectarian differences or religious feelings whatever ought to be imported into this question. Supposing you do not like my Salvationism, surely it is better for these miserable, wretched crowds to have food to eat, clothes to wear, and a home in which to lay their weary bones after their day's toil is done, even though the change is accompanied by some peculiar religious notions and practices, than it would be for them to be hungry, and naked, and homeless, and possess no religion at all. It must be infinitely preferable that they should speak the truth, and be virtuous, industrious, and contented, even if they do pray to God, sing Psalms, and go about with red jerseys, fanatically, as you call it, "seeking for the millennium"--than that they should remain thieves or harlots, with no belief in God at all, a burden to the Municipality, a curse to Society, and a danger to the State.
That you do not like the Salvation Army, I venture to say, is no justification for withholding your sympathy and practical co-operation in carrying out a Scheme which promises so much blessedness to your fellow-men. You may not like our government, our methods, our faith. Your feeling towards us might perhaps be duly described by an observation that slipped unwittingly from the tongue of a somewhat celebrated leader in the evangelistic world sometime ago, who, when asked what he thought of the Salvation Army, replied that "He did not like it at all, but he believed that God Almighty did." Perhaps, as an agency, we may not be exactly of your way of thinking, but that is hardly the question. Look at that dark ocean, full of human wrecks, writhing in anguish and despair. How to rescue those unfortunates is the question. The particular character of the methods employed, the peculiar uniforms worn by the lifeboat crew, the noises made by the rocket apparatus, and the mingled shoutings of the rescued and the rescuers, may all be contrary to your taste and traditions. But all these objections and antipathies, I submit, are as nothing compared with the delivering of the people out of that dark sea.
If among my readers there be any who have the least conception that this scheme is put forward by me from any interested motives by all means let them refuse to contribute even by a single penny to what would be, at least, one of the most shameless of shams. There may be those who are able to imagine that men who have been literally martyred in this cause have faced their death for the sake of the paltry coppers they collected to keep body and soul together. Such may possibly find no difficulty in persuading themselves that this is but another attempt to raise money to augment that mythical fortune which I,