JAC Online

What is and What is Not Training
by Catherine Bramwell Booth

The subject this morning is: What is and what is not Training – and I have one hour in which to deal with it! If you are sympathetic and put yourself in my shoes, you will realize it is not easy to tackle such a subject in so short a time. I can only keep to a few main lines.

Training is the development of individuals to qualify for a particular part in life. And in this our training does not differ from any other training. If you want to make a man a carpenter, you must train him to be a carpenter. If you want a man to be a doctor, you must train him to be a doctor; and if you want him to be a Salvation Army Officer, you must train him to be a Salvation Army Officer.
It should be made clear to the Cadets, from the very beginning, that Officership is a vocation, a calling. I wish we had a word which more clearly indicated what we mean. The term 'your calling' is capable of misunderstanding. If you too greatly emphasize the idea of the call, many Cadets become muddled and befogged. They say, 'Have I had a call? I thought I had, but now I have come to the Training Garrison I wonder if I did have one. I did not see an angel or hear a voice. Perhaps I have had a call; or, on the other hand, perhaps I have not had a call, so perhaps I had better go home!'

Also, if we too much emphasize the call we at once eliminate man's own part. The call seems to me all to do with God. God's call! God's voice! We must have that; but there is also man's part, man's own vision, judgment, desire, and enlightenment of mind and heart which fit him to hear the call and answer it. Yet, while I say this, I have not found a word to express fully what I mean. If you find a suitable word let us know.

It should be made clear to the Cadets from the first that Officership is a vocation, and that unless they regard it as such they ought to withdraw. This is very strong language; but a general desire to work for God and to do good in the world, or even to win souls for Christ, is not sufficient. The Cadet himself must be convinced of his call from God to offer himself for service to The Salvation Army.

I do not consider it too much to say that if any Cadet thinks he can do God's will as fully outside the ranks of The Salvation Army as within it, he should be encouraged to go outside. I feel this very strongly. We are not out essentially to make a big Salvation Army – although God grant it may be as big as we can make it! That sounds like a contradiction, but you know what I mean. We are not out merely for numbers, for bigness. It is of vital importance to us that The Salvation Army should continue to be in the future, as in the past, a distinct entity, a body of people separated, of another breed – is that an allowable word? – from the religious bodies round about us. I hope you are convinced of that. Unless you are convinced of it you cannot convince others. In the Training Garrisons you have the streams at the beginning, so to speak, and you can turn it which way you will. I think we ought not to be afraid of making it absolutely clear to the Cadets that we do not want them unless they are called. Unless it is their vocation, unless their Officership is something more to them than a chance offering up of their lives to do good, we should say, 'Well, God bless you. You are dear souls. God will help you. But we do not want you in The Army. There are other ways in which you may serve God – more ways to-day than ever there were!'

There was a time when The Army was almost the only avenue open to women for religious work, but that day has gone by. I think we can afford to say we want people who have seen something, or heard something, or been convinced by something, which makes them know, 'The Salvation Army is my way, and if I take any other way it will not be God's way for me.' Believe me, the first time people with minds unconvinced on this matter, who feel there is an alternative for them, come up to a place where you really want them and it really matters to God and souls whether they are there, and stay there, they will calmly step out of the ranks and say, 'My conscience does not condemn me!' That sort of thing riles me! They say, 'I feel it is quite right to resign. I shall still be able to serve God if I do marry this good friend, or join this fine Mission,' and so on; but The Army suffers. We are responsible to set before the Cadets that they are in the Garrison for a specific reason, to be trained as Salvation Army Officers. I have thought that perhaps if the Training were not a free Training, people would think about it more before they came in. I wonder what you think! They get it for nothing, and perhaps as a consequence they are inclined not to appreciate it as they should. On the other hand, the fact that you give them this Training, and that they do not pay for it, is a strong point – it gives you a right over them. You can lay on them a heavier obligation because The Army gives them their Training.

In this country ministers of religion are trained at their own expense, they have to get their own education and go to college, and provide this and that. But The Army takes people and trains them, and sometimes almost clothes them! But, as I say, we have a great strength there, and I feel we ought to use it so that they shall feel, 'all the blessing and help and instructions of my Cadet days shall bind me the more closely to the people I have chosen.' I remember how Colonel Lawrence used to put it into us in all kinds of ways when we were Cadets. Sometimes she would stop short when speaking, and when we were all listening, spellbound, for her next words, she would say, 'Oh, my God! I hope you will earn your bread and butter!' And sometimes, when she felt still more strongly, she would say, 'The Army has to pay for your bread and butter and you are not even worth your salt!' We felt it; but I think it was good for us.

Training work is preparing people for a particular work, and must include imparting a knowledge of the laws governing the particular work in view. If we are going to teach agriculture the pupil must accept certain main laws, or, although he has a great deal of instruction in the art of grafting, pruning, planting, and dividing, his training will be useless. He must accept those laws of nature which never change. They are the fundamental laws governing his particular work. He must accept them; and before he can accept them he must know them. Now we must help the Cadets to accept the fundamental laws governing their vocation. It is a very important part of Training Work thoroughly to teach what these are. I am not going to enter into details about them this morning, but I shall divide them into two classes:

1. The Spiritual laws under which we work. It is sad how ignorant many of our people still are about these. I am speaking particularly of those countries where the great proportion of our Cadets were our people before they became Cadets. It is a disappointment how ignorant some of our people still are about the fundamental laws governing their spiritual life. The question is too great a one to be entered into here, and after all, we are not responsible for what they have been taught before they come into Training. But we are responsible for dealing with them once we have them, and while they are here in Training we should set before them the spiritual laws under which they should work. Let us set these laws before the Cadets in such a way that they shall never be forgotten. We can say, 'This is the way, walk ye in it,' and though we cannot make them walk in it, we can put the laws so clearly and plainly before them that they shall be an abiding possession. Each Officer should be able to say, 'This is what I ought to do, whether I do it or not is another question, but in my own soul I cannot get away from what I was taught I ought to do.' I do not think this is too high a standard.

2. The Salvation Army Orders and Regulations. Detail here is somewhat overwhelming! Nevertheless much can be done to instill into the minds of the Cadets the main lines upon which all Salvation Army work is run, so that each may, at least in some degree, possess that instinct without which the cleverest Officer cannot 'be The Army'.

The more teaching of the Regulations can be made a living thing to the Cadets, the more likely they are to be governed by them when they leave the Training Garrison. Here I should like to butt in with an idea of my own, though I do not know whether I have any right to do so. I should very much like to see the Training Garrisons working on a different method in teaching the Regulations. I had an uncomfortable feeling when I was doing Training Work that the very teaching of the Regulations turned the Cadets away from the Regulations. What a calamity! What a loss! I have been reading the various articles on the new volume of the Orders and Regulations for Officers, and the writers all seem to think it necessary to emphasise the point that Officers do not read the Regulations as they ought. People outside The Army in this country are, in an increasing number, buying our Orders and Regulations for Officers; you find it on the bookshelves of ministers of religion. Many express the opinion that it is the best handbook in existence on the work of saving souls. What an extraordinary thing it is that our own people should seem content to neglect it! I thought much about this neglect when engaged in Training Work. Are we to blame? This has nothing to do with what the Cadets have done before they come to us. The majority of them know nothing of the book before they come. Ought not our teaching to inspire them with a love for the book? That is what teaching is supposed to do on any subject.

I have wished we could teach it in essence: find some one who is clever enough to get to the heart of it, the main principles, and then teach the rest by obliging the Cadets to go to the book themselves. For example, as a main principle we might take The Army's love for the poor. Impress this on the Cadet – the derelict man, the debased man, the vilest man: he is The Army's man. There is a growing tendency among our people to be respectable, and not to seek after, or be seen with, the vilest.

But we must never forget that the worst among men are ours. The Army exists to find them, to seek them out, to go to the public-houses and filthy slums after them. We go into places where the police do not dare put their noses, and we are wonderfully able to attract the worst of sinners. Such a point is of the spirit of our law. We could teach the spirit of our law in class and then deal with the detail in the examinations by setting the Cadet to search, in the book itself. For instance, in an examination paper we might state a Band problem such as all will probably have to meet within the first five years of their service; and then ask, 'If such and such were the case, how would you as the C.O. act?' giving the Cadets a certain time to turn over the pages of the Regulations and see what is laid down on the matter. I think that sort of thing would take them to the book and perhaps teach them what is in it. I pass on the thought.

What I am trying to say is, that we should be able to teach our own Regulations in such a way that our people will want to keep them and to know what they are. We are always getting into trouble in every land through Officers wanting to do a little Salvation Army of their own invention. We cannot make it too clear to the Cadets that they are called to carry on The Salvation Army founded by William Booth. Training must include information connected with the work for which you are training Cadets. They must not only know the laws governing that work, which laws they cannot get on without, but possess a certain general knowledge which is also necessary to the proper carrying out and application of their special knowledge. The doctor, to practice successfully, must have general knowledge which cannot be called medical knowledge; without the general knowledge his medical knowledge would be very little use to him when it comes to practical application. I believe Training ought to include certain general information. I know our time for Training is very limited, but it is most important that we deal with matters affecting the work of S.A. Officers.

Here again I venture to express my own view. It is a moot point with me how far we should attempt education in the ordinary sense of the word. In English-speaking and other countries where there are good facilities for education, if people have not had sense or wit enough to gain, at any rate, a moderately useful education, it is to my mind rather a fool's hope to think that after they have reached adult life we shall be able to force into them, in the little scraps of time at our disposal, enough information to make any appreciable difference. I do not mean that the Cadets do not need to improve their education. I am convinced they do. It is appalling how little many of them know.

What a waste of time and money their seven or eight years' schooling represent! If a man cannot write and cannot read properly, then perhaps we ought to say to that individual, 'You are behind! What have you been up to? If you do not improve you will be no use.' Then, if the Cadet be any good, he will generally find ways and means to improve. In these days it is not so difficult to educate yourself up to a point as it used to be. I think perhaps we ought to improve in what we do for Candidates before they come into Training; but that matter is not within the scope of this lecture.

But whether or not you agree with me as to spending time in the Training Garrisons on elementary education, I am convinced we ought to do more to inform the Cadets about the state of the world, and by that I mean the state of the people in the world with whom they are going to deal. Many Cadets come to us from more or less one-sided lives; many come to us from isolated lives; lived in a little community, and they are amazingly ignorant of what Training Officers often take it for granted they know. The number of our own young people coming to us, and wanting to go our way and serve The Army is one of the most glorious things about the Army; but the more that is so, the more we have to rejoice and pride ourselves on the splendid number of our own young people who are becoming Officers, the more we are faced with the problem of the Cadets' ignorance about the state of the world. It is naturally so!

I remember a Cadet who came from a drunkards' home. She sat and talked to me about it until I wept as she told me of the degradation and starvation, and of the cursings of her drunken father and mother. Compare that Cadets' preparation for going out to work in a slum district and in public-houses with that of some others. She knows all about it. It is not a shock to her; what is more, she is not easily put off – she knows what is likely to be behind an affair when people don't want to tell her. When children turn up to Juniors with their shabby clothes, she is likely to know what is in their minds, what they go through when they sit beside children who are clean and tidy, because she has been through it herself.
She is in a different position from her fellow Cadet who has been brought up in the home of a Local Officer. Perhaps the Local himself was a drunkard before The Army got hold of him twenty or thirty years ago, but now he has steady work and a nice home. Instead of huddling together five and six in a bed, his children have decent accommodation. They have been protected, have gone to respectable schools, had companions in The Army circle, and been themselves in the Songsters or Band. When these young people who have been so blessed and lifted up come to be Cadets, they are in the dark as to the degradation and misery brought about by sin, and we have to enlighten them. It is important that that enlightenment should come from people whom they love and believe in. If the Cadets were better informed during Training, they would be better prepared to tackle the conditions which sooner or later they are likely to meet.

They ought to know something about the standards of life amongst the people. Many of them do not know how the people live; therefore, when they visit amongst them, and work amongst them, they do not know how to approach them, and consequently do not find out the things they ought to find out. Others, because they have no standard of their own, are disappointingly inclined to take things for granted and say, 'I suppose things are so; it is awful, and I am shocked about it; but I suppose people have lived like that before and must go on in the same way. I must accept it.' Instead of which they ought to say to their people, 'As Soldiers and Converts you ought to do better; you must try and get better accommodation, keep the house clean, and not let the girls and boys sleep together in the same bed.'

It is dreadful that Officers should visit homes and, because of not understanding the evil, or not having a standard of their own, tolerate things which are ruining people before their eyes – the young people, and children especially, who in some homes open to Army influence hardly get a chance. It is appalling to think that Salvation Army women go in and out of homes unaware that children in those homes are being degraded body and soul. The Officers often do not see what they ought to see, and if they do, do not lift up their voice against it, largely because they do not understand the significance of what is before their eyes. They ought to know and, whether they can succeed or not in remedying the evil, they ought to make a protest against the evil. Do you not agree that we can do better in stirring up the Cadets about the way the people live, and about the degradation to which sin leads?

I cannot enter into details. You see enough of what I mean. Our young people are ignorant in spite of the fact that in this country our vices and evils are not so much out of sight. Unfortunately, the public-house is with us, and where the public-house is there will always be a certain amount of publicity in regard to evil, because when people are drunk they are not so careful about what they do and say, and filthy language and actions are not so hidden. Yet, even in this country where the public-house is at the street corner, if you talk to the girls that come to us for Training you often find they do not see nor understand the need they have given their lives to meet. They will not be able to help people (as they ought) if somebody does not come to them with some of the great facts of what sin is doing and of its ravages.

We meet many who are troubled because they do not understand much about Hell. Few do; but we can understand something about the present hell that is within a stone's throw of us all the time, if we but know of it. Thank God the knowledge has come home to my own heart. I have often replied to a Cadet who has said, I do not understand about Hell.' 'My dear child, do not bother about it; you do not understand Heaven! Worry about what is going on now! Stir up your heart about the hell that is on earth now, and you will feel you must do something!' I think the Cadets ought to know something about the hospitals, prisons and workhouses. I think we ought to show them that side of life. In this country, partly because of the red tape and because it is sometimes difficult to get an entry, we do not do so much as we ought. I knew a nurse who became a Salvationist. She was in the old men's ward in an infirmary. Nearly all her patients were bed-ridden and incurable. Directly they knew she had become a Salvationist she discovered that many of them were in a perfect agony of fear about death. She spoke to them and helped them, and many said to her, 'I am praying you will be on duty when I die.' This kind of need is all around us in every place where people are dying! Where we can get to them we ought.

I have had my sympathy drawn out to people who are dying. I thought for four or five months I was dying myself. Thank God, I was ready to die; but I am convinced that many people, when ill, cannot put things right unless they have help. I cannot imagine any greater depth of human misery than to face death wanting to do something you cannot do. I have thought much of those dying without hope, who have, perhaps, a terrible vision of a God full of anger, and an awful burden of unconfessed sin on their heart, wrongs not put right. If we could only have Salvationists moving about amongst them everywhere! How beautiful if every dying man had a Salvation Army brother to sit by his side and help him according to his need and say to him, 'God will give you strength and courage for the last step.' Cadets ought to see something of such work and be taught something of how to do it. They should learn how to approach officials, and they should know what they can do, and what they have a right to do. Our people ought to be informed what are their rights, especially in this country where the officials are disposed to dispute them. We have to fight for our rights.

Our responsibility to the Cadet is something like the responsibility of the parent to the child. The day of departure is at hand: even at the beginning of the Session, the day of departure is at hand! How quickly the months go. We must unstop their ears and open their eyes and help the Cadets to dig wells of sympathy in their hearts. But if they do not know, if they do not see, if they do not hear, how can they sympathise and take the message as they ought? They ought to go from the Training Garrison feeling, 'Oh, my God, if this is the state of the world I will do something to better it or perish in the attempt!' Our telling them about the state of the world should make them have that feeling – the best of them, at any rate. All successful Training must include demonstration. The chemist can bring his bottles and make his mixture while the class looks on. In this we are handicapped; we cannot demonstrate in the same way as can be done in other work because our work is not for show. But we can do much by personal example; and we must remember how strong the personal element is with young people. It won't matter if they worship us a little! They will soon forget us and worship somebody else; it is good for them to feel that their Training Officers are heroes and heroines. Let them know something about the fight you have made and the things you have done, not in a boasting way, but in a way that makes them feel, 'If only I could do that,' or 'be like that.' It has helped me, and no doubt it has helped you also to look up and say, 'I should like to be like So-and-So.' I think it is good to encourage them in that.

And that brings me to the matter of illustration. I did not learn much about the Regulations when I was a cadet – just enough to scrape through the examinations – but I learned a tremendous amount from the illustrations given in the classes. That was the fascinating part. When our teacher said, 'When I was in such and such a place I ------,' then we drank it in!

The Cadets must practise. There is no other way of learning and becoming adepts. Let them practise! Make them practise! Practise with them when you can! Practical work is a tremendous help in discovering how far they are efficient. I think it is a great help to teach the Cadet individually. How lovely it must be when you have only a few Cadets! Begin to deal with some one in the Meeting, then fetch one of the Cadets and say, 'Help me with this man,' and the Cadet can put in a word and you can put in a word, and afterwards you can help the Cadet. You can say, 'It was a mistake to say that; you should have said this.' Why should not the Cadets practise on hardened sinners? It would not hurt them! The Cadets must practise, no matter on whom they practise. Nothing, in my opinion, can really teach people to deal with souls except dealing with souls.

No Training can be regarded as successful that does not enthuse the pupil with a high ideal of his vocation. The Cadet who thinks in his heart that Officership is nothing very great, will never make anything very great of it! That is what we are suffering from in regard to secular education. It is horrible that in the schools the children are taught in such a way as to make them despise the work by which they have to live. What a hateful thing it is that a man should despise the work by which he lives as if it were degrading, when work done whole-heartedly is an uplifting thing. Unless enthused with a high ideal of what they are going to do, and be, and about their place in God's work (and this can go side by side with the greatest humility), the Cadets are likely to do little good. Our Training should inculcate pride in doing good work, just as in the other walks of life where good work is produced. The skilful engineer has a pride in his work. Our people must have pride in their work. We have to put it into them. Do not be afraid to set a high ideal before your Cadets. Youth will never be discouraged by the greatness of the task. I hope you believe this. The Cadets will never be discouraged by your telling them what great tasks lie before them! This is the great advantage of youth. When we come to middle life it is sometimes a different thing.

No Training can be regarded as successful which does not gain the willing cooperation of the pupil. Perhaps I ought to make an exception here and say except military training. They can perhaps catch a man and make him into a soldier against his will, drill him, and turn him out from the military point of view a good soldier. Ours is not a training by coercion and force, and we must have the cooperation of those we are Training. It is not the least use getting a thing well done merely while a Cadet is in Training. What we want is to get them to work in our way when they go from Training; to create a desire in the Cadet's heart to work in the right way, a desire that shall remain with him when Training days, and the people associated with his Training, are only a dream. Training is not giving instructions, although I have known Officers whom at the beginning of their Training Work, had the idea that if you were a good hand at giving orders you must be, somehow or other, a good Training Officer! Do not let us disdain to give an explanation of our instructions, to let the Cadet see, at any rate sometimes, a reason for them. I do not say always. It is sometimes necessary to give instructions without an explanation. But to explain sometimes will help Cadets to obey orders intelligently at times when they are not explained. The Cadet will feel then, 'There is generally a good reason for it; and so there may be now, although I do not see it.'

Give the Cadets an opportunity to carry out your instructions. That is most important. Cadets often hardly have time to carry out one instruction before they receive another.

Training is not merely reproving and correcting faults. That is certainly a part of Training. But fault-finding which does not help the Cadet and correct his work, and show him a better way, and enthuse him with hope is only a discouragement to him.

Training is not the accomplishment of certain tasks, such as raising money for Self-Denial. A Cadet must be taught to raise money; it is part of Army work, but it is not necessarily Training. The actual raising of money for Self-Denial, or taking part in so many campaigns in the Session, or even winning so many souls, is not necessarily Training. The Training Officer should never lose sight of the central purpose of a Training Officer, the practical development of the Cadet, and all those subsidiary efforts must be to that end and not in themselves the end. Training is not the bringing of all up to a certain level of competency.

Standardisation is not our aim; and we cannot impress this fact too often on junior Training Officers. We do not want Officers who are all up to a certain point of efficiency. My own experience in this work seemed to show that our best energies are often expended in the brining up of those who are below the average, with the result that our better material is often largely left to itself. We are keen on helping the man who is below the average to a certain level of proficiency in his speaking, working, and experience. We toil, and slave, and exhaust ourselves in trying to do so; and the very greatness of our efforts tends to make us feel a sense of relaxation when we come to the better Cadet – 'Thank God, this one will get through!' The junior Officers, at any rate, when they get a Cadet who is good or even brilliant are inclined to say, 'Splendid!' and turn their attention to the one who is less promising. Training should do the same for all in proportion. The man with five talents should increase them to ten, and if the man with one can be helped to produce one more, we have done our share for him. Training is not bringing all up to a certain level of efficiency. We must aim at growth and development proportionate to the capacity of the Cadet. This aim must never be lost sight of.

Training is not merely employing the Cadet. The Training period belongs to the Cadet, and we have no right to rob him, or allow him to be robbed, of any part of it. The Training Officer should be on the look-out for the danger of taking a Cadet from his lessons and Field work because he can help to do something else. And in this connection you should consider the working of Bands and Songster Brigades, or any special combination in the Training Garrison itself, as well as the use of Cadets in offices, house cleaning, assisting of other departments, special teas, and so on.

This little patch of their lives is given the Cadets in order that you may be able to fit them for the future, and we have no right to snatch any of it, however little, from them for the sake of helping some other work through.