tecture, nothing of painting, and nothing of classical music. Furthermore, at this period of his career he knew very little indeed of life; was acquainted, indeed, only with the dissenting aspect of the commonwealth, was in touch only with the outermost suburbs of human society. When he married Catherine Mumford he was an ill-educated pastor of a section of the Methodist body, a man only remarkable for the intensity of his feelings, the honesty of his nature, and the power of his oratory. But the reader of his letters must already have perceived that while he was this, and while on the surface he was nothing more, there was in the depths of his rough, wilful, and untutored being a gnawing hunger and a consuming thirst for sanctification, a great struggle for spiritual perfection, and a dogged, obstinate, unconquerable passion to do the will of God against the obstruction of Hell itself.

Again and again throughout his letters there is the same foreshadowing of an ultimate immortality that exists, calmly and quietly, in the most perfect and imperishable of Shakespeare's sonnets a cry, as it were, from the dark blackness of a soul overshadowed by the powers of evil and wretched with poverty, ignorance, and a will pulling contrary to the divine, a cry that somewhere, somehow, and somewhen he will veritably strike an immortal blow for God and his fellow-men. It is this conviction of a destiny, this heroic faith in a high calling on the part of a man hampered by physical weakness and hindered on every hand by authority and indifference, which most interests us in William Booth as a revivalist, helping us to maintain our sympathy, and to expect a greater man. First to his youthful friends in Nottingham, and afterwards with a much greater intensity and a far more persistent reiteration to Catherine Mumford, he confided this feeling within himself of a power to do something for the salvation of man which should add fresh glory to religion. His friends believed in him, and Catherine Mumford, warning him against ambition, believed in him too. After long years of wandering in the wilderness he was to enter the promised land and to justify this faith in his destiny.

CHAPTER XVII

THE HAPPINESS OF A YOUNG MARRIED COUPLE

1855-1856

So great had been the success of William Booth's various missions that the Annual Conference of the New Connexion, which was held a little time before his marriage, freed him from his circuit in London, and appointed him to the work of roving evangelist, "to give the various circuits an opportunity of having his services during the coming year.'

In this way the young married couple were destined to spend some considerable time of their life without the comfort and convenience of a home. As early as August in that year of 1855-owing chiefly to Catherine's illness

they were separated, William Booth writing from York to his "precious wife," who was with her parents in London: "I feel as though a part of myself were wanting," he says to her; adding, "How often during my journey have I taken my eyes from off the book I was reading to think about you- yes, to think tenderly about you, about our future and our home."

Catherine felt this parting keenly, and tells him how it was almost intolerable, so that she even had thoughts of starting off, in spite of her illness, to join him again:

the fact of your being gone beyond my reach, the possibility of something happening before we could meet again, the possible shortness of the time we may have to spend together, and such like thoughts, would start up, making rebellious nature rise and swell and scorn all restraints of reason, philosophy, or religion.

She signs herself on this occasion, "Remember me always as your own faithful, loving, joyful little wife."

When they met again, Catherine wrote to her parents describing her happiness, and exclaiming, "He is kinder and more tender than ever, and is very, very glad I came. Bless him! He is worth a bushel of the ordinary sort."

Tender as he was, and full of sympathy for her continued suffering, William Booth could not drag himself from his work to nurse his sick wife. Very soon after this reunion they were parted again, she remaining at Hull and he going to Caistor as an evangelist. Her letters to her parents furnish a second-hand report of his triumphs and declare the sorrows of her heart in this enforced loneliness. "I would not be a voluntary exile from my beloved husband, even for a week."

We are to have apartments at Sheffield. You cannot think with what joy I anticipate being to ourselves once more. For though I get literally oppressed with kindness, I must say I would prefer a home, where we could sit down together at our own little table, myself the mistress and my husband the only guest. . . . My precious William is all I desire, and without this what would the most splendid home be but a glittering bauble? Then, too, by living in different families and places, I have much room for observation and reflection on various phases of life and character which I hope will benefit my mind and increase my knowledge.

A reference to her father, which follows, needs the parenthetical explanation that Mr. Mumford was suffering commercial reverses, and that with these financial anxieties he was once more sinking into a condition of indifference to religion -the ex-lay preacher crushed quite out of existence by the pressing failure of the coach-builder:

Tell father that he must not wait for a change of circumstances before he begins to serve God, but seek first the Kingdom of Heaven. . . . I wish he could be introduced into such a revival as that at Hull. God is doing great and marvellous things there.

He is bringing to His fold

Rich and poor and young and old.

Out of his scanty earnings William Booth, the impulsive and headlong evangelist, found means to help his impecunious father-in-law. "Herewith," he wrote from Sheffield, in September, 1855, "you have P.O. for two pounds, made payable to John Mumford, at the General Post Office." He is evidently looking about him for some chance of helping this unfortunate father-in-law to make

a fresh start. "I am anxious you should keep your spirits and make an effort by and by. I think that a large town something like Sheffield would be better than the Potteries, but perhaps I am not the best judge." He expresses himself as confident of Mr. Mumford's "ability and success if once he could get a fair start. On the same sheet Catherine writes to her father:

I quite agree with you in thinking yourself well adapted for an Auctioneer, and I have faith to believe you will yet get into business and do well; keep your spirits up and don't conclude that because you cannot get away just now you must necessarily stay where you are all the Winter. . . . I hope the enclosed order will be sufficient; we intended sending another pound, but William has not written to the Committee for money, and he runs rather short just now; but if you want more, send word, as he can write in a couple of days and will with pleasure send you some.

After a reference to her husband's success, telling how his name is "posted on the walls in monster bills," she addresses herself to her mother:

I often wish I could come and see you. I should like to have a little private conversation, my beloved mother. I am very sorry you have been so unfortunate in your search after apartments; nevertheless, I think there is a kind providence watching over you, and I believe all will turn out right in the end. Don't be harassed about the rent; when you have done what you can, I am sure William will help you out; he feels more with you and manifests more interest in your welfare than ever I expected he would; but it is only one of the many things in which he has exceeded my expectation. Bless him, I have only one fear, and that is that he will wear himself out prematurely. . . .

In another of her letters, Catherine Booth tells her mother that a composition of hers, "On the training of young converts," which has already appeared in the New Connexion Magazine, was now published in the Canadian Christian Witness, "so it has found an audience on the other side of the Atlantic." She then says, "I have been reading a very good work on Homœopathy which has removed my last difficulty on the subject, and if I should be ill I should like a homoeopathic doctor." But she is

not entirely occupied with chapel-going, writing for the New Connexion Press, and studying books of medicine; she has her wardrobe to think about:

I shall soon begin to feel the cold in travelling and shall want my merino dress, etc., etc. You will have to send us a parcel before we leave Sheffield, but I will send a list of what we want next week. . . . Let Letty unpick the skirt of my merino dress and wash it nicely for me (body as well) - if you have not opportunity to make the skirt up again you must send it undone, and I must get it done at Leeds. I shall want you to send likewise that old black cloth cloak to make me a loose jacket to wear under my shawl when travelling. Will you look at William's best coat? I hope the moths are not in reach of it.

After bidding her mother look in the second drawer and send word as to what flannel underclothing the Rev. William Booth possesses which would be worth sending, she winds up with the suggestion that Mrs. Mumford should advertise for a good lodger, saying, "you would soon save a little to serve as capital for father at the beginning."

In one of her letters written from Sheffield on October 5, and addressed to "My very dear Parents," occurs a significant sentence: "I enclose a few lines solely on personal matters, i.e. relating exclusively to myself, which I wish mother only to see." Later in the same letter:

The place we have been to to-day is one of the most splendid houses I ever visited, and has a very kind and sympathetic lady for its mistress. . . . I like her much; she will prove a valuable friend to me while here. She is within a fortnight of her confinement, so she can sympathize with me fully. I feel this to be a special boon just now, because though in the house where we are staying I have everything else I want, I have no sympathy-simply because it forms no part of the nature of my hostess which you know is a great desideratum with me. But I have everything in my precious husband which makes other things insignificant; otherwise I should soon be in London again with my own dear mother.

In conclusion, "William encloses ten shillings' worth of letter stamps which I presume father can easily get cash for amongst his city friends; it is for you to defray your