arrive; this is all I could possibly expect, all I desire at her hands. . . . I need not recapitulate my doubts, only that every day seems to blacken them and make them more worthy of consideration; I need not say here how highly I judge of you and how high in my estimation your virtuous soul I rank; I need not say that I have deemed and still do deem every, even the minutest, of your actions and words spotless and without blemish, that is, in my eyes; I need not tell you that I mean Christ and a union in Heaven, and that my resolutions are unbroken to live and live only for the salvation of souls and the glory of God; I need not urge you to a more earnest searching out for the beauties and loveliness of the character of Jesus; I need not exhort you to entire consecration to His service and His constant hallowed communion; I would to God that my intercourse with Him was as perfect and my resemblance to His image was as divine as your own. I will to-day more earnestly than ever pray that you may find your all in all in Him. I say nothing decisive because I know nothing; I have neither advanced nor retrograded from the position I occupied when last we met. I intend, all well, visiting near Binfield this afternoon. Mr. Nye preaches there, I understand, to-night. I shall not be there, or else I might, I suppose, have had the pleasure of shaking hands with you. But we have a committee at Walworth. I trust you will have a good night's rest; I am grieved to hear that you are poorly. My health is good, tolerably so. I bore the fatigue of Sunday quite as well as I could have expected. With my love to your dear mother—that is, if you communicate this letter; I do not see why you should not. I remain, affectionately yours in the Love of the risen, interceding, atoning, sacrificial, ever-prevailing Lamb of God, WILLIAM BOOTH. Miss Catherine Mumford. Catherine Mumford to William Booth. BRIXTON, Tuesday night, May 11, '52. MY DEAR FRIEND I have been spreading your letter before the Lord and earnestly pleading for a manifestation of His will to your mind in some way or other, and now I would say a few words of comfort and encouragement. My heart feels for you far beyond what I can express. Oh that I knew how to comfort you in an indirect way. You do grieve me by saying, "you fear you have blocked up every way of being a blessing to me." I tell you it is not so; your kindness and character will ever give weight to your advice and teaching, and create a sympathy with your prayers which cannot fail to benefit me. If you wish to avoid giving me pain don't condemn yourself. I feel sure God does not condemn you, and if you could look into my heart you would see how far I am from such a feeling. Don't pore over the past. Let it all go. Your desire is to do the will of God, and He will guide you. Never mind who frowns, if God smiles. Though you are surrounded by a host of foes He is able to deliver and He will deliver, only trust in Him and don't be afraid; the darkness and gloom that hangs about your path shall all flee away. When you are tried you shall come forth as gold! The words gloom, melancholy, and despair lacerate my heart. Don't give way to such feelings for a moment. God loves you. He will sustain you. The thought that I should increase your perplexity and cause you any suffering is almost intolerable. Oh that we had never seen each other. Do try to forget me, so far as the remembrance would injure your usefulness or spoil your peace. If I have no alternative but to oppose the will of God or trample on the desolations of my own heart, my choice is made. 'Thy will be done " is my constant cry. I care not for myself, but oh if I cause you to err I shall never be happy again. Don't, I beseech you, take any step without some evidence satisfactory to your own mind of the will of God; think nothing about me; I will resist to the uttermost. I can do all things through Christ strengthening me.' I do continually pray for you; surely God must answer our prayers when He sees it is our one desire to do His will. Let us expect an answer; perhaps our faith is deficient. Yours affectionately, CATHERINE. ... 66 Catherine Mumford to William Booth. BRIXTON, MY DEAR FRIEND I have read and re-read your note, and I fear you did not fully understand my difficulty. It was not circumstances; I thought I had fully satisfied you on that point. I thought you felt sure that a bright prospect could not allure me nor a dark one affright me, if we are only one in heart. My difficulty, my only reason for wishing to defer the engagement was, that you might feel satisfied in your own mind that the step is right. To cause you to err would cost me far more suffering than anything else. I have deeply pondered over all your words at our last interview, especially the objections which you so honourably confessed had influenced your mind, and I dare not enter into so solemn an engagement till you can assure me that you feel I am in every way suited to make you happy and that you are satisfied the step is not opposed to the will of God. You say if your circumstances were not so blighted you could not desire so striking an indication of God's will. I answer if you are satisfied of His will irrespective of circumstances, let circumstances go, and let us be one, come what will; but if there is anything in me which you fear, anything you think would mar your completest happiness, banish the thought of an union for ever, and let us regard each other as true and tried friends; but if you feel satisfied on these two pointsfirst, that the step is not opposed to the will of God, and, secondly, that I am calculated to make you happy, come on Saturday evening, and on our knees before God let us give ourselves afresh to Him and to each other for His sake, consecrate our whole selves to His service for Him to live and die. When this is done what have we to do with the future? we and all our concerns are in His hands, under His all-wise and gracious providence. I wish you could see into my heart for a moment; I cannot transfer to paper my absorbing desire that the will of God may be done in this matter. I dare no more say I decline, or I accept (except on the beforementioned grounds) than I dare. take my destiny into my own hands, the cry of my inmost soul is, Thy will be done. If you come on Saturday I shall presume that you are satisfied on these two points, and that henceforth we are one; in the meantime I shall not cease to pray that God may guide you aright. May He bless you, and if He sees that I am not such an one as you need to be an helpmate for you, may He enable you to forget me. . . . William Booth to Catherine Mumford. WALWORTH, June 24. MY OWN DEAR CATHERINE . . . I feel uncommonly tired and weary this morning. My head aches, and I feel altogether out of order. I walked home from Greenwich last night. I ought to have ridden. 1 preached there with much liberty and trust some profit to the people, though the congregation was not so good as the week before, some of the leading friends having gone to some fête in the neighbourhood. Let us love Him better for the love we bear each other, and seek in all things perfect and unimpaired conformity to all His will and work. I hope when you can that you will resume your reading, and I trust in better spirits and with a firmer trust in the Hand that feeds the ravens. William Booth to Catherine Mumford. Monday morning. MY OWN LOVING KATE—It has just occurred to my mind that I did not leave you a correct address of that poor girl, and lest you should be prevented from your benevolent undertaking I post this to inform you. If you leave the omnibus at the Obelisk, at the end of the London and at the foot of the Waterloo and Blackfriars' Roads, you will be but a few yards from your destination, which is No. 3 or 4 Duke Street, next door to a Plumber and Glazier's shop; it is up two flights of stairs; take with you a smelling-bottle; a widow woman, who lives in the room as you enter from the street, if you ask her for the poor girl of the name of "Leach," will show you her room, I doubt not. Speak pointedly to all you see of the family; mention my name. My love to you, all my heart. I may or may not see you this evening. I write this on purpose that you may have the direction to that poor dying girl. Pray for me, oh to be willing to take any path which may promise most the diffusion of righteousness and the glory of God. Oh let us give ourselves afresh and entirely to Him; never was such a sacrifice as this needed as now; I would make my choice under the influence of deep piety and devotion, and I shall not err. My love to your dear mother. I love not only you, but her better than ever before. I pray for your entire consecration, and believe me,— Yours in the closest alliance of united soul, spirit, and body, for time and for eternity, for earth and for Heaven, for sorrow and for joy, for ever and for ever. WILLIAM. Amen. CHAPTER XIII WILLIAM BOOTH AS A SUCCESSFUL EVANGELIST. CATHERINE MUMFORD AS GUARDIAN ANGEL 1852-1853 It was not until he got into Lincolnshire that William Booth felt sure of his vocation. The experiment in London had been a failure, as we have seen, and one that rather tended to diminish the young man's confidence in his calling. He has left a fragment behind him which expresses his disgust for the satisfied and sanctimonious people among whom he had attempted to labour, and alludes briefly to the now pressing crisis in his financial affairs: But the people would have nothing to do with me. They "did not want a parson." They reckoned they were all parsons, so that at the end of the three months' engagement the weekly income came to an end; and indeed I would not have renewed the engagement on any terms. There was nothing for me to do but to sell my furniture and live on the proceeds, which did not supply me for a very long time. I declare to you that at that time I was so fixed as not to know which way to turn. In my emergency a remarkable way opened for me to enter college and become a Congregational minister. But after long waiting, several examinations, trial sermons, and the like, I was informed that on the completion of my training I should be expected to believe and preach what is known as Calvinism. After reading a book which fully explained the doctrine, I threw it at the wall opposite me, and said I would sooner starve than preach such doctrine, one special feature of which was that only a select few could be saved. I My little stock of money was exhausted. I remember that gave the last sixpence I had in the world to a poor woman whose daughter lay dying; but within a week I received a letter inviting me to the charge of a Methodist Circuit in Lincolnshire, and from that time my difficulties of that kind became much less serious. He was encouraged, as we know, by the enthusiasm of Catherine Mumford during this distressing period, but it |