Chapter XXIVThe EndIt seems almost impossible to describe the ending of The General's life, because there was not even the semblance of an end within a week of his death.The last time I talked with him, just as I was leaving for Canada in January, he for the first time made a remark that indicated a doubt of his continuance in office. He hardly hinted at death; but, referring to the sensations of exhaustion he had felt a few days previously, he said: "I sometimes fancy, you know, that I may be getting to a halt, and then"--with his usual pause when he was going to tease--"we shall have a chance to see what some of you can do!"We laughed together, and I went off expecting to hear of his fully recovering his activity "after the operation," to which we were always looking forward. Oh, that operation! It was to be the simplest thing in the world, when the eye was just ready for it, as simple and as complete a deliverance from blindness as the other one had seemed, for a few days, to be. But this time he would be fully warned, and most cautious after it, and I really fancied the joy he would have after so long an eclipse.It seemed to me that he never realised how great his own blindness already was, so strong was his resolution to make the best of it, and so eager his perception, really by other means, of everything he could in any way notice. We had difficulty in remembering that he really could not see when he turned so rapidly towards anybody approaching him or whose voice he recognised!To Colonel Kitching during this dark period he wrote one day: "Anybody can believe in the sunshine. We, that is you and I and a few more of whom we know, ought to be desperate believers by this time--Saviours of men--against their will, nay, compellers of the Almighty."And his writing was always so marvellous, both for quantity and quality. His very last letters to several of us consisted of a number of pages all written with perfect clearness and regularity with his own hand. It was, perhaps, the greatest triumph of his own unfailing faith and sunny optimism that he kept even those who were nearest to him full of hope as to his complete recovery of strength till within a few days of his death; and then, gliding down into the valley, surprised all by sinking suddenly into eternal peace without any distinct warning that the end was so near. His youngest daughter, Mrs. Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, was with him during the last days.But, really, it would be only fair to describe his end as having begun from the day when, during his Sixth Motor Tour, the eye which had been operated upon became blind. Though after having it taken out, he very largely rallied, and passed through grand Campaigns for some years, he was ever looking forward to the operation on the other eye, which was to restore him to partial sight. His cheeriness through those years and his marvellous energy astonished all.The following notes of his first foreign journey after the loss of sight cannot but be of special interest, showing with what zest and enjoyment he threw himself into all his undertakings for Christ:--"Saturday,February12, 1910.--The crossing has been quite rough enough. I slept very little, and it was with real difficulty that I shambled through the long railway dépôt to my train for Rotterdam. At eight o'clock was woke up from a sound sleep with a startling feeling. It is a pity I could not have slept on. Fixed up at the old hotel six floors up (the Mass Hotel). Very fair accommodation, but a little difficult to get anything to eat, that is, such as meet my queer tastes and habits. Nevertheless, on the principle of 'any port in a storm,' I have had much worse accommodation."Sunday,February13, 1910.--Had a wonderful day. Far ahead of anything experienced before in this place. My opinion about it is jotted down inThe War Cry. I had, as I thought, remarkable power on each of the three occasions, and finished off at ten o'clock far less exhausted than I frequently am. Still, I scarcely got into my rooms before the giddiness came on in my head very badly, and continued off and on until ten the next morning. I can't account for it. It may be my stomach, or it may have something to do with the rocking of the steamer on Friday night. It may be what the doctors fear, my overtaxed brain, or it may be something else. Whatever it is, it is very awkward while it lasts. Fifty-seven souls for the day."Monday,February14, 1910.--Left by the 12:37 p.m. train for Groningen. Slept a good bit of the way. Arrived about 5:12 p.m. Reception very remarkable, considering the population is only some 78,000. It was one of the most remarkable greetings I have ever had in any part of the world. There must have been getting on for a couple of thousand people in the station itself, who had each paid five cents for a platform ticket, and outside 5,000 is a low estimate. Everybody very friendly."Entertained by the Governor's wife's sister. The Meeting was as wonderful as the reception. Immense hall. Could not be less than 1,500 people packed into it on one floor. I talked for an hour and three-quarters. Colonel Palstra, my translator, did splendidly, the people listening spellbound; not a soul moved until the last minute, when three or four went out for some reason or other. It was a wonderful time. Settled to sleep about 11:30 p.m. not feeling any worse."Tuesday,February15, 1910.--Had a fair night's sleep. The strange feelings in the head continue off and on, and the fact that they don't pass off, in connexion with the entreaties of the Chief, and those about me, made me consent to give up the Officers' Council I was proposing to hold at Amsterdam next week, putting on Lectures on the evenings of the two days which I would otherwise have used for Councils. I am very loath to do this, from feeling that the Officers are the great need. So far I have been delighted with what I have seen of the Officers in the country. We ought to capture Holland."The Governor has sent word to say that he is coming to see me this afternoon."I have had a long sleep, and I hope I shall be better for it. The Governor has just come in. He appears a very amiable person, very friendly disposed towards The Army. We had a very nice conversation about matters in general, and at parting he expressed his kindest wishes for my future and for the future of The Army."I left at a few minutes before seven. It has been snowing and raining, and freezing and thawing the last few hours, consequently the atmosphere is not very agreeable. However, my carriage was well warmed, and we arrived at Assen in half an hour."A very nice hall--packed with a very respectful audience. I spoke on the old subject, 'The Lesson of my Life,' and made it 'better as new' as the Jew says about his second-hand garments. I was very pleased with it and the people were too. I am entertained by Baron and Baroness Van der Velts. The lady speaks English very nicely, and they are evidently very pleased to have me with them."I was glad to settle to sleep about eleven, and thankful for the mercies of the day."It was thus that nearly three years passed away. Then came at last the time when the long-hoped-for operation was to take place.Rookstone, the house in Hadley Wood, a village on the northern outskirts of London, where The General died, stands almost at the foot of the garden of the present General, so that they could be constantly in touch when at home, and the General's grandchildren greatly enjoyed his love for them.But in the large three-windowed room, where his left eye was operated upon, and where a few months later he died, his Successor, his youngest daughter, Commissioner Howard, and his Private Secretary, Colonel Kitching, had many valued interviews with him during those last months. I had not that opportunity until it was too late to speak to him, for he had said when it was suggested, full as he had been of the hope of prolonged life almost to the end, "Oh, yes, he'll want to come and get something for my life and that will just finish me."Of the operaton itself we prefer to let the physician himself speak in the following extract fromThe Lancetof the 19th October, 1912:"...He was not in very good health in March, 1910; he had occasional giddy attacks and lapses of memory, and from April till June of the same year he had albuminuria, from which, however, he appeared entirely to recover. The vision of his left eye became gradually worse, but I encouraged him to go on without operation as long as he could. He did so until about the end of 1911, when his sight had become so bad that he could barely find his way about; indeed, he met with one or two minor accidents on account of not being able to see. It then appeared to me he had much to gain and very little to lose by an operation, and further, he was in much better health than he had been for some time. I pointed out to him that there was a risk and that if the operation failed he would be totally blind, but that there were very long odds in his favour, and that I was willing to take the risk if he was. He asked one question: 'If you were in my place would you have it done?' I said certainly I would. That quite decided him and all that remained to be done was to fix a time. General Booth at that date had some work which he wanted to finish, and eventually the date for operation was fixed for May 23rd. On that day I operated. I did a simple extraction under cocaine."Nothing could have been more satisfactory, as will be seen from the notes, and the bulletin sent to the papers was, 'The operation was entirely successful; the ultimate result depends on The General's recuperative power.' When I covered the eye and bandaged it I thought that success was certain, and was confirmed in that opinion on the following morning when I lifted up the dressing and found all was well, and that the patient, when he partly opened the eye, could see. On the third day Dr. Milne, who was in attendance, at once saw that mischief had occurred, and the sequence of events I have narrated. How the eye became infected I am unable to say. I used every precaution; as I told the patient afterwards, the only omission I could think of was that I had not boiled or roasted myself.... I looked carefully for these before each operation. I regret two things in the case: (1) that the last operation was not done two or three months before when General Booth was in better health; (2) that it was not postponed for another month, in which case I should not have done it, for looking back on the whole history I feel certain that he was not in his best condition on May 23rd when the operation was performed."The General's own response when he was gently informed that there was no hope of his seeing objects any more was:--"Well, the Lord's Will be done. If it is to be so I have but to bow my head and accept it."He subsequently remarked that as he had served God and the people with his eyes he must now try to serve without them. He continued to dictate letters, and even to write occasionally as he had been accustomed to do, with the help of his secretaries, and a frame that had been prepared for the purpose. But the very struggles against depression and to cheer others, together with the sleeplessness that resulted took from his little remaining strength, and it became evident that he was gradually sinking. Yet he was so remarkably cheerful and at times even confident that all around him were kept hoping up to the very last.To a group of Commissioners who visited him he said:--"I am hoping speedily to be able to talk to Officers and help them all over the world. I am still hoping to go to America and Canada as I had bargained for. I am hoping for several things whether they come to pass or not."But on Tuesday, the 20th August, it became evident that the end was very near. There gathered around his bed Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell Booth, Mrs. Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, Commissioner Howard, who had been summoned by telegram from his furlough, Colonel Kitching, Brigadier Cox, Adjutant Catherine Booth, Sergeant Bernard Booth, Captain Taylor, his last Assistant Secretary, Nurse Ada Timson of the London Hospital, and Captain Amelia Hill, his housekeeper.The heart showed no sign of failure until within half an hour of his death, and the feet remained warm till within twenty minutes of the event. But the heart and pulse became gradually weaker, the breathing faster and shorter and more irregular, and at thirteen minutes past ten o'clock at night it entirely ceased.London awoke to find in our Headquarters window the notice, "General Booth has laid down his Sword. God is with us."The day after his death, at a meeting of all the Commissioners present in London, the envelope containing the General's appointment of his successor was produced by the Army's Solicitors, endorsed in the General's own writing and still sealed. Upon being opened, it was found to be dated the 21st August, 1890, and that it appointed the Chief of the Staff, William Bramwell Booth, to succeed him. The new General, in accepting the appointment, and promising by God's help to fulfil its duties, expressed his great pleasure in discovering that it was dated during the lifetime of his mother, so that he could feel sure that her prayers had been joined with his father's for him at the time.Immediately there began to pour in upon us from every part of the world expressions of admiration and sympathy which were most valuable in their promise for the Army's increased opportunity and usefulness in the future.His Majesty, the King, who had manifested deep sympathy with The General in his illness, sent the following generous message, which was one of the first to come to hand:--"Abbeystead Hall."I am grieved to hear the sad news of the death of your Father. The nation has lost a great organiser, and the poor a whole-hearted and sincere friend, who devoted his life to helping them in a practical way."Only in the future shall we realise the good wrought by him for his fellow-creatures."To-day there is universal mourning for him. I join in it, and assure you and your family of my true sympathy in the heavy loss which has befallen you."George R. I."Queen Alexandra telegraphed:--"I beg you and your family to accept my deepest and most heartfelt sympathy in the irreparable loss you and the nation have sustained in the death of your great, good, and never-to-be-forgotten Father, a loss which will be felt throughout the whole civilised world. But, thank God, his work will live for ever."Alexandra."President Taft wired:--"Washington."To General Bramwell Booth:"In the death of your good Father the world loses one of the most effective practical philanthropists. His long life and great talents were dedicated to the noble work of helping the poor and weak, and to giving them another chance to attain success and happiness."Accept my deep sympathy."Wm. H. Taft."The King of Denmark wired:--"Express my sincere sympathy."Christian R."The Lord Mayor of London, Sir Thomas B. Crosby, wired:--"The City of London sincerely mourns the passing away of its distinguished citizen, General Booth, whose grand and good work entitles him to imperishable gratitude."Whilst the Governors and Premiers of most of the Colonies where the Army is at work cabled in similar terms. The Emperor of Germany, as well as the King and Queen, and Queen Alexandra, sent wreaths to be placed on The General's coffin, and the tributes of the press all over the world will be found in the following chapter.More than 65,000 persons came to Clapton Congress Hall to look upon his face as he lay in his coffin, and more than 35,000 gathered for the great Memorial Service in the Olympia, the largest obtainable building in London, on the evening before the funeral. All the press commented upon the remarkable joyfulness of our funeral services, and the funeral itself the next day was admitted to have been the most impressive sight the great city has seen in modern times.In addition to officers, many bands from all parts of the country came to join in it.The coffin had been brought in the night to Headquarters in Queen Victoria Street. The funeral procession was formed on the Embankment, and whilst it marched through the city all traffic was suspended from 11 till 1 o'clock. The millions who witnessed its passage along the five-mile march to Abney Park Cemetery seemed as generally impressed and sympathetic as the multitude gathered there. It was indeed touching to see not only policemen and ambulance workers; but publicans and numbers of the people offering glasses of water to the sisters who had been on their feet for six or seven hours before the service was ended.The memorial services held all over the world on the following Sunday were attended by quite unparalleled crowds, of whom very many publicly surrendered their lives to God.The following letters to members of his own family show the spirit of affection and of cheerfulness which to the very last distinguished him.To his youngest daughter, the widow of Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, who, though she had been fighting in one post or another in this country, India, America, Sweden, Switzerland, or France for over twenty years, he still regarded as his "baby" and special darling, he wrote:--"Hadley Wood,"May3, 1912."My very dear Lucy,--"Your letter is to hand. I am interested in all you say. It was very kind, indeed beautiful, of you to sit by the couch of dear Erickson all those hours. But it will be a recollection of pleasure all through your life, and I have no doubt, after the fading hours of this life have passed out of sight and thought, it will give you satisfaction in the life to come."There is a great deal in your suggestion that we should do more in the hospitals. It would be, as you say, beyond question a means of blessing and comfort--indeed, of Salvation to many of the lovely, suffering, dying people whose melancholy lot carries them there. But the old difficulty bars the way--the want of Officers and money for the task. Well, we are doing something in this direction, and we must wait for the power to do more."I think much about many of the things you say. Your practical common sense comes out at every turn. Based, as your comments and suggestions usually are, on thereligion of love, makes them very precious."Go on, my dear girl. God, I feel, is preparing you for something very useful in His Kingdom. I feel quite sure."But, oh, do be careful and not overrun your strength."Through mercy I am keeping better. I had a very trying day yesterday on the top of my table work, which I find a continuous trial to my nerves, but I came through it--that is, through yesterday's hard pull. It was a visit to my native town. But you will read about it in theCry."I am eating much more, not only in quantity, but am indulging in a little more variety."My difficulty at the moment is, that while a good supper helps me to sleep, a scanty supper is agreeable to my brains, and my feelings hinder me from sleeping, as I am so lively after it."Later."I have just had a nice little sleep. Quite refreshing it has been, and very welcome also."I am now in for a cup of tea. What a pleasure it would be if you were here to pour it out and chatter to me while I drink it."Well, I had anticipated this delight on my visit to Norway and Sweden in this coming July, but that, I am afraid, will not come--that is, my visit to Denmark; but I shall hold on to it (D.V.) in connexion with my Annual Campaign in Berlin and round about. Then I shall expect quite a long stay in your Territory, similar to my last; or better, I hope."I am positively working night and day now, and only hope I shall not break down; but I am careful, after all, and seem to be really substantially improved."I cannot finish this letter now, and, although it is not worth posting, I think it will be best to send it off. I may put in a P.S. if there is opportunity."Anyway, believe me, as ever and for ever,"Your affectionate father,"W. B."At his last public Meeting to celebrate his 83d birthday, at the Royal Albert Hall, on the 9th day of May, the General had said:--"And now comrades and friends I must say good-bye. I am going into dry dock for repairs, but The Army will not be allowed to suffer, either financially or spiritually, or in any other way by my absence, and in the long future I think it will be seen--I shall not be here to see, but you will, that The Army will answer every doubt and banish every fear and strangle every slander, and by its marvellous success show to the world that it is the work of God and that The General has been His Servant."In his last letter to the Chief, he wrote two months later:--"International Headquarters, London, E.C."July 4, 1912."My Dear Chief,--"I am pleased to hear that you are sticking to your intention of going away for a few days, in spite of my continued affliction, for affliction it can truthfully be called."I am very poorly, and the trial of it is that I cannot see any positive prospect of a definite, speedy recovery. But it will come; I have never seriously doubted it. God won't let me finish off in this disheartening manner--disheartening, I mean, to my comrades, and to those I have to leave with the responsibility of keeping the Banner flying. God will still do wonders, in spite of men and devils."All will be well. Miriam will get well, Mary will get well, and both be brave warriors. Florrie will flourish more than ever, and you will be stronger; and, although it may require more patience and skill, I shall rally!"I am in real pain and difficulty while I dictate this. These horrid spasms seem to sit on me like a mountain, but I felt I could not let you go without a longer good-bye and a more affectionate kiss than what is so ordinarily. This is a poor thing, but it speaks of the feeling of my heart, and the most fervent prayer of my soul. Love to all,"Yours, as ever,"W. B."The Chief of the Staff."To his second daughter, in command of The Army in the United States, his last letter read as follows:--"July 20, 1912."My dear, dear Eva,--"I had your letter. Bless you a thousand times! You are a lovely correspondent. You don't write your letters with your pen, or with your tongue, you write them with your heart. Hearts are different; some, I suppose, are born sound and musical, others are born uncertain and unmusical, and are at best a mere tinkling cymbal. Yours, I have no doubt, has blessed and cheered and delighted the soul of the mother who bore you from the very first opening of your eyes upon the world, and that dear heart has gone on with that cheering influence from that time to the present, and it will go on cheering everybody around you who have loved you, and it will go on cheering among the rest your loving brother Bramwell and your devoted General right away to the end; nay, will go on endlessly, for there is to be no conclusion to our affection."I want it to be so. I want it to be my own experience. Love, to be a blessing, must be ambitious, boundless, and eternal. O Lord, help me! and O Lord, destroy everything in me that interferes with the prosperity, growth, and fruitfulness of this precious, Divine, and everlasting fruit!"I have been ill--I have been very ill indeed. I have had a return of my indigestion in its most terrible form. This spasmodic feeling of suffocation has so distressed me that at times it has seemed almost impossible for me to exist. Still, I have fought my way through, and the doctors this afternoon have told me, as bluntly and plainly as an opinion could be given to a man, that I must struggle on and not give way, or the consequences will be very serious."Then, too, the eye has caused me much pain, but that has very much, if not entirely, passed off, and the oculist tells me that the eye will heal up. But, alas! alas! I am absolutely blind. It is very painful, but I am not the only blind man in the world, and I can easily see how, if I am spared, I shall be able to do a good deal of valuable work."So I am going to make another attempt at work. What do you think of that? I have sat down this afternoon, not exactly to the desk, but any way to the duties of the desk, and I am going to strive to stick to them if I possibly can. I have been down to some of my meals; I have had a walk in the garden, and now it is proposed for me to take a drive in a motor, I believe some kind soul is loaning me. Anyhow, I am going to have some machine that will shuffle me along the street, road, and square, and I will see how that acts on my nerves, and then perhaps try something more."However, I am going into action once more in the Salvation War, and I believe, feeble as I am, God is going to give me another good turn, and another blessed wave of success."You will pray for me. I would like before I die--it has been one of the choicest wishes of my soul--to be able to make The Salvation Army such a power for God and of such benefit to mankind that no wicked people can spoil it."Salvation for ever! Salvation--Yellow, Red, and Blue! I am for it, my darling, and so are you."I have heard about your Open-Air services with the greatest satisfaction, and praise God with all my heart that in the midst of the difficulties of climate and politics, etc., you have been able to go forward."I have the daily papers read to me, and among other things that are very mysterious and puzzling are the particulars that I gather of the dreadful heat that you have had to suffer, both as a people and as individuals."You seem to have, indeed, been having lively times with the weather. It must have tried you very much."My telling you not to fret about me is the proper thing to do. That is my business in this world very largely, and if I can only comfort your dear heart--well, I shall do good work."Good-bye, my darling child. Write to me as often as you can, but not when overburdened. I am with you, and for you, and in you for ever and ever. Love to everybody."Your affectionate father and General,"William Booth."To an Officer whom he regarded almost as a daughter, and whose hearing had been greatly affected, he wrote:--My Dear C.,--"Thanks for your sympathetic letter. It is good of you to think about me now and then. Specially so as you must be much and often exercised about your own affliction."Perhaps you will think that it is easier for me to accept mine than it will be for you to accept yours. I have just been thinking that to have any difficulty in the Hearing Organ is not so serious as a difficulty with the Seeing. You can read and write, and with a little contrivance and patience you can hear any communication that may be specially interesting and important. It is true, you are shut out from the pleasure and profit that comes from the general conversation of a company, and from listening to Public Speakers, although a great deal that you miss is no serious loss at all!"In my case, I can imagine I am worse off. With me, reading is impossible, and writing is so difficult that, although I can scratch a few lines, the work soon becomes so taxing and difficult that I have to relinquish it. So we'll sympathise the one with the other. We will trust in God, take courage, and look forward to brighter days."Anyway, God lives, and there are a thousand things we can do for Him, and what we can do we will do, and we will do it with our might."Every thoughtful reader of this volume will naturally have asked himself many times over, how was it possible for the Leader of a great world-wide Mission to leave his Headquarters, year after year, for weeks and sometimes for months at a time, without involving great risk of disaster to his Army?The answer, familiar to every one at Headquarters, and, indeed, to many others, lay in the existence, largely out of sight even to the vast majority of the Soldiers of The Army, of a man who, since his very youth, had been The General's unwearyable assistant. It was the present General Bramwell Booth, content to toil mostly at executive or administrative work, whether at Headquarters or elsewhere, unseen and unapplauded, who was ceaselessly watching over every portion of the vast whole, and as ceaselessly preparing for advances, noting defects, stopping mistaken movements, and urging at every turn, upon every one, the importance of prayer and faith, the danger of self-confidence, and, the certainty of God's sufficiency for all who relied wholly upon Him. It was this organiser of victory in the individual and on many fields who made it possible for the Army to march forward whilst its General was receiving from city to city, and from village to village, in motor and other tours, the reward of faithful service to the poorest everywhere, and was also ever advancing on the common foe.Therefore this book could not be complete without some account of the then Chief of the Staff to explain his construction.Born in Halifax, in 1856, amidst one of those great Revival Tours in which his parents shared in the tremendous toils that brought, in every place they visited, hundreds of souls into deep conviction of sin and hearty submission to God, the little one must have drunk in, from his very childhood, some of that anxiety for the perishing, and joy in their deliverance, which form the basis of a Salvationist career. Named after one of the greatest Holiness preachers, who accompanied John Wesley in his campaigning, in the express hope to both father and mother, that he should become an apostle of that teaching, the faith of his parents received abundant fulfilment in his after life.As a boy he shared with them all the vicissitudes of their eight gipsy years, during which they were practically without a home, and the one settled year of (as they thought) half wasted time, amidst the usual formalities, always galling to them both, or ordinary Church life; so that, with his usual acuteness of observation, he must have noted all their horror of routine, and learnt, more than anybody noticed, the reasons why the Churches had become divorced from the crowds and the crowds from the Churches.In his tenth year, when they settled in London, and began their real life work, he cannot but have partaken fully of the satisfaction this gave to them, whilst they were, as yet, buried amidst the mass of East-End misery. It was shortly before the foundation of the Work that he was converted at one of his mother's own Meetings. The shrinking from publicity, which seems an essential part of every conscientious person, held him long back from resolving to become one of their Officers. But during all the years between his being saved and that great decision, he was constantly helping, first in Children's Meetings, and then in office work, so that at twenty-one he was already a very experienced man, both in the work of saving souls, and in much of the business management for which a great Movement calls.When I first saw him at seventeen, he was still studying; but he had been, during the previous eighteen months of the General's illness and absence, his mother's mainstay in the managing both the public and the office work of "The Christian Mission," and the Secretary and, largely, manager of a set of soup kitchens, the precursors, in some ways, of our present Social Wing. For all this to be possible to a lad of seventeen, of delicate health, may give some little indication of the faculties with which God had endowed him.It was not, however, till five years later, when he had fully conquered his own taste for a medical career that he gave himself fully to the War. Alone, or with one of his sisters, he visited the towns where many of our largest Corps were being raised, holding Meetings in theatres and other popular resorts, so that he gained first-hand all the experiences of Officers, both in the pioneering days and in the after years of struggle against all manner of difficulty, when every sort of problem as to individuals, and Corps, had to be dealt with from hour to hour.This much to explain how it was possible for a man so young to become at twenty-five the worthy and capable Chief of the Staff of an Army already at work in both hemispheres and on both sides of the world. The reader will also be able to understand how the Chief, travelling by night as often as by day, could visit the General in the midst of any of his Campaigns, and in the course of a brief journey from city to city, or between night and morning confer fully with him, and take decisions upon matters that could not await even the delay of a mail.The comfort to The General, as he often testified, of the continual faithful service of this slave of a son was one of the most invaluable forces of his life. Whilst, on the one side we may see in such self-renouncing abandonment a certificate to and evidence of the nature of The General's own life, we must read in it, at the same time, some part of the explanation of his boundless activities and influence.For the Chief of those days, The General of these, to have gone to and come away from his father's daily scenes of triumph without getting the slightest appetite himself for public displays, or yielding in the slightest to the craving after human support or encouragement, to turn him aside from the humdrum of duty, is one proof of those gracious evidences of God's saving and keeping power with which the history of The Salvation Army abounds.
It seems almost impossible to describe the ending of The General's life, because there was not even the semblance of an end within a week of his death.
The last time I talked with him, just as I was leaving for Canada in January, he for the first time made a remark that indicated a doubt of his continuance in office. He hardly hinted at death; but, referring to the sensations of exhaustion he had felt a few days previously, he said: "I sometimes fancy, you know, that I may be getting to a halt, and then"--with his usual pause when he was going to tease--"we shall have a chance to see what some of you can do!"
We laughed together, and I went off expecting to hear of his fully recovering his activity "after the operation," to which we were always looking forward. Oh, that operation! It was to be the simplest thing in the world, when the eye was just ready for it, as simple and as complete a deliverance from blindness as the other one had seemed, for a few days, to be. But this time he would be fully warned, and most cautious after it, and I really fancied the joy he would have after so long an eclipse.
It seemed to me that he never realised how great his own blindness already was, so strong was his resolution to make the best of it, and so eager his perception, really by other means, of everything he could in any way notice. We had difficulty in remembering that he really could not see when he turned so rapidly towards anybody approaching him or whose voice he recognised!
To Colonel Kitching during this dark period he wrote one day: "Anybody can believe in the sunshine. We, that is you and I and a few more of whom we know, ought to be desperate believers by this time--Saviours of men--against their will, nay, compellers of the Almighty."
And his writing was always so marvellous, both for quantity and quality. His very last letters to several of us consisted of a number of pages all written with perfect clearness and regularity with his own hand. It was, perhaps, the greatest triumph of his own unfailing faith and sunny optimism that he kept even those who were nearest to him full of hope as to his complete recovery of strength till within a few days of his death; and then, gliding down into the valley, surprised all by sinking suddenly into eternal peace without any distinct warning that the end was so near. His youngest daughter, Mrs. Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, was with him during the last days.
But, really, it would be only fair to describe his end as having begun from the day when, during his Sixth Motor Tour, the eye which had been operated upon became blind. Though after having it taken out, he very largely rallied, and passed through grand Campaigns for some years, he was ever looking forward to the operation on the other eye, which was to restore him to partial sight. His cheeriness through those years and his marvellous energy astonished all.
The following notes of his first foreign journey after the loss of sight cannot but be of special interest, showing with what zest and enjoyment he threw himself into all his undertakings for Christ:--
"Saturday,February12, 1910.--The crossing has been quite rough enough. I slept very little, and it was with real difficulty that I shambled through the long railway dépôt to my train for Rotterdam. At eight o'clock was woke up from a sound sleep with a startling feeling. It is a pity I could not have slept on. Fixed up at the old hotel six floors up (the Mass Hotel). Very fair accommodation, but a little difficult to get anything to eat, that is, such as meet my queer tastes and habits. Nevertheless, on the principle of 'any port in a storm,' I have had much worse accommodation."Sunday,February13, 1910.--Had a wonderful day. Far ahead of anything experienced before in this place. My opinion about it is jotted down inThe War Cry. I had, as I thought, remarkable power on each of the three occasions, and finished off at ten o'clock far less exhausted than I frequently am. Still, I scarcely got into my rooms before the giddiness came on in my head very badly, and continued off and on until ten the next morning. I can't account for it. It may be my stomach, or it may have something to do with the rocking of the steamer on Friday night. It may be what the doctors fear, my overtaxed brain, or it may be something else. Whatever it is, it is very awkward while it lasts. Fifty-seven souls for the day."Monday,February14, 1910.--Left by the 12:37 p.m. train for Groningen. Slept a good bit of the way. Arrived about 5:12 p.m. Reception very remarkable, considering the population is only some 78,000. It was one of the most remarkable greetings I have ever had in any part of the world. There must have been getting on for a couple of thousand people in the station itself, who had each paid five cents for a platform ticket, and outside 5,000 is a low estimate. Everybody very friendly."Entertained by the Governor's wife's sister. The Meeting was as wonderful as the reception. Immense hall. Could not be less than 1,500 people packed into it on one floor. I talked for an hour and three-quarters. Colonel Palstra, my translator, did splendidly, the people listening spellbound; not a soul moved until the last minute, when three or four went out for some reason or other. It was a wonderful time. Settled to sleep about 11:30 p.m. not feeling any worse."Tuesday,February15, 1910.--Had a fair night's sleep. The strange feelings in the head continue off and on, and the fact that they don't pass off, in connexion with the entreaties of the Chief, and those about me, made me consent to give up the Officers' Council I was proposing to hold at Amsterdam next week, putting on Lectures on the evenings of the two days which I would otherwise have used for Councils. I am very loath to do this, from feeling that the Officers are the great need. So far I have been delighted with what I have seen of the Officers in the country. We ought to capture Holland."The Governor has sent word to say that he is coming to see me this afternoon."I have had a long sleep, and I hope I shall be better for it. The Governor has just come in. He appears a very amiable person, very friendly disposed towards The Army. We had a very nice conversation about matters in general, and at parting he expressed his kindest wishes for my future and for the future of The Army."I left at a few minutes before seven. It has been snowing and raining, and freezing and thawing the last few hours, consequently the atmosphere is not very agreeable. However, my carriage was well warmed, and we arrived at Assen in half an hour."A very nice hall--packed with a very respectful audience. I spoke on the old subject, 'The Lesson of my Life,' and made it 'better as new' as the Jew says about his second-hand garments. I was very pleased with it and the people were too. I am entertained by Baron and Baroness Van der Velts. The lady speaks English very nicely, and they are evidently very pleased to have me with them."I was glad to settle to sleep about eleven, and thankful for the mercies of the day."
"Saturday,February12, 1910.--The crossing has been quite rough enough. I slept very little, and it was with real difficulty that I shambled through the long railway dépôt to my train for Rotterdam. At eight o'clock was woke up from a sound sleep with a startling feeling. It is a pity I could not have slept on. Fixed up at the old hotel six floors up (the Mass Hotel). Very fair accommodation, but a little difficult to get anything to eat, that is, such as meet my queer tastes and habits. Nevertheless, on the principle of 'any port in a storm,' I have had much worse accommodation.
"Sunday,February13, 1910.--Had a wonderful day. Far ahead of anything experienced before in this place. My opinion about it is jotted down inThe War Cry. I had, as I thought, remarkable power on each of the three occasions, and finished off at ten o'clock far less exhausted than I frequently am. Still, I scarcely got into my rooms before the giddiness came on in my head very badly, and continued off and on until ten the next morning. I can't account for it. It may be my stomach, or it may have something to do with the rocking of the steamer on Friday night. It may be what the doctors fear, my overtaxed brain, or it may be something else. Whatever it is, it is very awkward while it lasts. Fifty-seven souls for the day.
"Monday,February14, 1910.--Left by the 12:37 p.m. train for Groningen. Slept a good bit of the way. Arrived about 5:12 p.m. Reception very remarkable, considering the population is only some 78,000. It was one of the most remarkable greetings I have ever had in any part of the world. There must have been getting on for a couple of thousand people in the station itself, who had each paid five cents for a platform ticket, and outside 5,000 is a low estimate. Everybody very friendly.
"Entertained by the Governor's wife's sister. The Meeting was as wonderful as the reception. Immense hall. Could not be less than 1,500 people packed into it on one floor. I talked for an hour and three-quarters. Colonel Palstra, my translator, did splendidly, the people listening spellbound; not a soul moved until the last minute, when three or four went out for some reason or other. It was a wonderful time. Settled to sleep about 11:30 p.m. not feeling any worse.
"Tuesday,February15, 1910.--Had a fair night's sleep. The strange feelings in the head continue off and on, and the fact that they don't pass off, in connexion with the entreaties of the Chief, and those about me, made me consent to give up the Officers' Council I was proposing to hold at Amsterdam next week, putting on Lectures on the evenings of the two days which I would otherwise have used for Councils. I am very loath to do this, from feeling that the Officers are the great need. So far I have been delighted with what I have seen of the Officers in the country. We ought to capture Holland.
"The Governor has sent word to say that he is coming to see me this afternoon.
"I have had a long sleep, and I hope I shall be better for it. The Governor has just come in. He appears a very amiable person, very friendly disposed towards The Army. We had a very nice conversation about matters in general, and at parting he expressed his kindest wishes for my future and for the future of The Army.
"I left at a few minutes before seven. It has been snowing and raining, and freezing and thawing the last few hours, consequently the atmosphere is not very agreeable. However, my carriage was well warmed, and we arrived at Assen in half an hour.
"A very nice hall--packed with a very respectful audience. I spoke on the old subject, 'The Lesson of my Life,' and made it 'better as new' as the Jew says about his second-hand garments. I was very pleased with it and the people were too. I am entertained by Baron and Baroness Van der Velts. The lady speaks English very nicely, and they are evidently very pleased to have me with them.
"I was glad to settle to sleep about eleven, and thankful for the mercies of the day."
It was thus that nearly three years passed away. Then came at last the time when the long-hoped-for operation was to take place.
Rookstone, the house in Hadley Wood, a village on the northern outskirts of London, where The General died, stands almost at the foot of the garden of the present General, so that they could be constantly in touch when at home, and the General's grandchildren greatly enjoyed his love for them.
But in the large three-windowed room, where his left eye was operated upon, and where a few months later he died, his Successor, his youngest daughter, Commissioner Howard, and his Private Secretary, Colonel Kitching, had many valued interviews with him during those last months. I had not that opportunity until it was too late to speak to him, for he had said when it was suggested, full as he had been of the hope of prolonged life almost to the end, "Oh, yes, he'll want to come and get something for my life and that will just finish me."
Of the operaton itself we prefer to let the physician himself speak in the following extract fromThe Lancetof the 19th October, 1912:
"...He was not in very good health in March, 1910; he had occasional giddy attacks and lapses of memory, and from April till June of the same year he had albuminuria, from which, however, he appeared entirely to recover. The vision of his left eye became gradually worse, but I encouraged him to go on without operation as long as he could. He did so until about the end of 1911, when his sight had become so bad that he could barely find his way about; indeed, he met with one or two minor accidents on account of not being able to see. It then appeared to me he had much to gain and very little to lose by an operation, and further, he was in much better health than he had been for some time. I pointed out to him that there was a risk and that if the operation failed he would be totally blind, but that there were very long odds in his favour, and that I was willing to take the risk if he was. He asked one question: 'If you were in my place would you have it done?' I said certainly I would. That quite decided him and all that remained to be done was to fix a time. General Booth at that date had some work which he wanted to finish, and eventually the date for operation was fixed for May 23rd. On that day I operated. I did a simple extraction under cocaine."Nothing could have been more satisfactory, as will be seen from the notes, and the bulletin sent to the papers was, 'The operation was entirely successful; the ultimate result depends on The General's recuperative power.' When I covered the eye and bandaged it I thought that success was certain, and was confirmed in that opinion on the following morning when I lifted up the dressing and found all was well, and that the patient, when he partly opened the eye, could see. On the third day Dr. Milne, who was in attendance, at once saw that mischief had occurred, and the sequence of events I have narrated. How the eye became infected I am unable to say. I used every precaution; as I told the patient afterwards, the only omission I could think of was that I had not boiled or roasted myself.... I looked carefully for these before each operation. I regret two things in the case: (1) that the last operation was not done two or three months before when General Booth was in better health; (2) that it was not postponed for another month, in which case I should not have done it, for looking back on the whole history I feel certain that he was not in his best condition on May 23rd when the operation was performed."
"...He was not in very good health in March, 1910; he had occasional giddy attacks and lapses of memory, and from April till June of the same year he had albuminuria, from which, however, he appeared entirely to recover. The vision of his left eye became gradually worse, but I encouraged him to go on without operation as long as he could. He did so until about the end of 1911, when his sight had become so bad that he could barely find his way about; indeed, he met with one or two minor accidents on account of not being able to see. It then appeared to me he had much to gain and very little to lose by an operation, and further, he was in much better health than he had been for some time. I pointed out to him that there was a risk and that if the operation failed he would be totally blind, but that there were very long odds in his favour, and that I was willing to take the risk if he was. He asked one question: 'If you were in my place would you have it done?' I said certainly I would. That quite decided him and all that remained to be done was to fix a time. General Booth at that date had some work which he wanted to finish, and eventually the date for operation was fixed for May 23rd. On that day I operated. I did a simple extraction under cocaine.
"Nothing could have been more satisfactory, as will be seen from the notes, and the bulletin sent to the papers was, 'The operation was entirely successful; the ultimate result depends on The General's recuperative power.' When I covered the eye and bandaged it I thought that success was certain, and was confirmed in that opinion on the following morning when I lifted up the dressing and found all was well, and that the patient, when he partly opened the eye, could see. On the third day Dr. Milne, who was in attendance, at once saw that mischief had occurred, and the sequence of events I have narrated. How the eye became infected I am unable to say. I used every precaution; as I told the patient afterwards, the only omission I could think of was that I had not boiled or roasted myself.... I looked carefully for these before each operation. I regret two things in the case: (1) that the last operation was not done two or three months before when General Booth was in better health; (2) that it was not postponed for another month, in which case I should not have done it, for looking back on the whole history I feel certain that he was not in his best condition on May 23rd when the operation was performed."
The General's own response when he was gently informed that there was no hope of his seeing objects any more was:--
"Well, the Lord's Will be done. If it is to be so I have but to bow my head and accept it."
"Well, the Lord's Will be done. If it is to be so I have but to bow my head and accept it."
He subsequently remarked that as he had served God and the people with his eyes he must now try to serve without them. He continued to dictate letters, and even to write occasionally as he had been accustomed to do, with the help of his secretaries, and a frame that had been prepared for the purpose. But the very struggles against depression and to cheer others, together with the sleeplessness that resulted took from his little remaining strength, and it became evident that he was gradually sinking. Yet he was so remarkably cheerful and at times even confident that all around him were kept hoping up to the very last.
To a group of Commissioners who visited him he said:--
"I am hoping speedily to be able to talk to Officers and help them all over the world. I am still hoping to go to America and Canada as I had bargained for. I am hoping for several things whether they come to pass or not."
"I am hoping speedily to be able to talk to Officers and help them all over the world. I am still hoping to go to America and Canada as I had bargained for. I am hoping for several things whether they come to pass or not."
But on Tuesday, the 20th August, it became evident that the end was very near. There gathered around his bed Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell Booth, Mrs. Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, Commissioner Howard, who had been summoned by telegram from his furlough, Colonel Kitching, Brigadier Cox, Adjutant Catherine Booth, Sergeant Bernard Booth, Captain Taylor, his last Assistant Secretary, Nurse Ada Timson of the London Hospital, and Captain Amelia Hill, his housekeeper.
The heart showed no sign of failure until within half an hour of his death, and the feet remained warm till within twenty minutes of the event. But the heart and pulse became gradually weaker, the breathing faster and shorter and more irregular, and at thirteen minutes past ten o'clock at night it entirely ceased.
London awoke to find in our Headquarters window the notice, "General Booth has laid down his Sword. God is with us."
The day after his death, at a meeting of all the Commissioners present in London, the envelope containing the General's appointment of his successor was produced by the Army's Solicitors, endorsed in the General's own writing and still sealed. Upon being opened, it was found to be dated the 21st August, 1890, and that it appointed the Chief of the Staff, William Bramwell Booth, to succeed him. The new General, in accepting the appointment, and promising by God's help to fulfil its duties, expressed his great pleasure in discovering that it was dated during the lifetime of his mother, so that he could feel sure that her prayers had been joined with his father's for him at the time.
Immediately there began to pour in upon us from every part of the world expressions of admiration and sympathy which were most valuable in their promise for the Army's increased opportunity and usefulness in the future.
His Majesty, the King, who had manifested deep sympathy with The General in his illness, sent the following generous message, which was one of the first to come to hand:--
"Abbeystead Hall."I am grieved to hear the sad news of the death of your Father. The nation has lost a great organiser, and the poor a whole-hearted and sincere friend, who devoted his life to helping them in a practical way."Only in the future shall we realise the good wrought by him for his fellow-creatures."To-day there is universal mourning for him. I join in it, and assure you and your family of my true sympathy in the heavy loss which has befallen you."George R. I."
"Abbeystead Hall.
"I am grieved to hear the sad news of the death of your Father. The nation has lost a great organiser, and the poor a whole-hearted and sincere friend, who devoted his life to helping them in a practical way.
"Only in the future shall we realise the good wrought by him for his fellow-creatures.
"To-day there is universal mourning for him. I join in it, and assure you and your family of my true sympathy in the heavy loss which has befallen you.
"George R. I."
Queen Alexandra telegraphed:--
"I beg you and your family to accept my deepest and most heartfelt sympathy in the irreparable loss you and the nation have sustained in the death of your great, good, and never-to-be-forgotten Father, a loss which will be felt throughout the whole civilised world. But, thank God, his work will live for ever."Alexandra."
"I beg you and your family to accept my deepest and most heartfelt sympathy in the irreparable loss you and the nation have sustained in the death of your great, good, and never-to-be-forgotten Father, a loss which will be felt throughout the whole civilised world. But, thank God, his work will live for ever.
"Alexandra."
President Taft wired:--
"Washington."To General Bramwell Booth:"In the death of your good Father the world loses one of the most effective practical philanthropists. His long life and great talents were dedicated to the noble work of helping the poor and weak, and to giving them another chance to attain success and happiness."Accept my deep sympathy."Wm. H. Taft."
"Washington.
"To General Bramwell Booth:
"In the death of your good Father the world loses one of the most effective practical philanthropists. His long life and great talents were dedicated to the noble work of helping the poor and weak, and to giving them another chance to attain success and happiness.
"Accept my deep sympathy.
"Wm. H. Taft."
The King of Denmark wired:--
"Express my sincere sympathy."Christian R."
"Express my sincere sympathy.
"Christian R."
The Lord Mayor of London, Sir Thomas B. Crosby, wired:--
"The City of London sincerely mourns the passing away of its distinguished citizen, General Booth, whose grand and good work entitles him to imperishable gratitude."
"The City of London sincerely mourns the passing away of its distinguished citizen, General Booth, whose grand and good work entitles him to imperishable gratitude."
Whilst the Governors and Premiers of most of the Colonies where the Army is at work cabled in similar terms. The Emperor of Germany, as well as the King and Queen, and Queen Alexandra, sent wreaths to be placed on The General's coffin, and the tributes of the press all over the world will be found in the following chapter.
More than 65,000 persons came to Clapton Congress Hall to look upon his face as he lay in his coffin, and more than 35,000 gathered for the great Memorial Service in the Olympia, the largest obtainable building in London, on the evening before the funeral. All the press commented upon the remarkable joyfulness of our funeral services, and the funeral itself the next day was admitted to have been the most impressive sight the great city has seen in modern times.
In addition to officers, many bands from all parts of the country came to join in it.
The coffin had been brought in the night to Headquarters in Queen Victoria Street. The funeral procession was formed on the Embankment, and whilst it marched through the city all traffic was suspended from 11 till 1 o'clock. The millions who witnessed its passage along the five-mile march to Abney Park Cemetery seemed as generally impressed and sympathetic as the multitude gathered there. It was indeed touching to see not only policemen and ambulance workers; but publicans and numbers of the people offering glasses of water to the sisters who had been on their feet for six or seven hours before the service was ended.
The memorial services held all over the world on the following Sunday were attended by quite unparalleled crowds, of whom very many publicly surrendered their lives to God.
The following letters to members of his own family show the spirit of affection and of cheerfulness which to the very last distinguished him.
To his youngest daughter, the widow of Commissioner Booth-Hellberg, who, though she had been fighting in one post or another in this country, India, America, Sweden, Switzerland, or France for over twenty years, he still regarded as his "baby" and special darling, he wrote:--
"Hadley Wood,"May3, 1912."My very dear Lucy,--"Your letter is to hand. I am interested in all you say. It was very kind, indeed beautiful, of you to sit by the couch of dear Erickson all those hours. But it will be a recollection of pleasure all through your life, and I have no doubt, after the fading hours of this life have passed out of sight and thought, it will give you satisfaction in the life to come."There is a great deal in your suggestion that we should do more in the hospitals. It would be, as you say, beyond question a means of blessing and comfort--indeed, of Salvation to many of the lovely, suffering, dying people whose melancholy lot carries them there. But the old difficulty bars the way--the want of Officers and money for the task. Well, we are doing something in this direction, and we must wait for the power to do more."I think much about many of the things you say. Your practical common sense comes out at every turn. Based, as your comments and suggestions usually are, on thereligion of love, makes them very precious."Go on, my dear girl. God, I feel, is preparing you for something very useful in His Kingdom. I feel quite sure."But, oh, do be careful and not overrun your strength."Through mercy I am keeping better. I had a very trying day yesterday on the top of my table work, which I find a continuous trial to my nerves, but I came through it--that is, through yesterday's hard pull. It was a visit to my native town. But you will read about it in theCry."I am eating much more, not only in quantity, but am indulging in a little more variety."My difficulty at the moment is, that while a good supper helps me to sleep, a scanty supper is agreeable to my brains, and my feelings hinder me from sleeping, as I am so lively after it."Later."I have just had a nice little sleep. Quite refreshing it has been, and very welcome also."I am now in for a cup of tea. What a pleasure it would be if you were here to pour it out and chatter to me while I drink it."Well, I had anticipated this delight on my visit to Norway and Sweden in this coming July, but that, I am afraid, will not come--that is, my visit to Denmark; but I shall hold on to it (D.V.) in connexion with my Annual Campaign in Berlin and round about. Then I shall expect quite a long stay in your Territory, similar to my last; or better, I hope."I am positively working night and day now, and only hope I shall not break down; but I am careful, after all, and seem to be really substantially improved."I cannot finish this letter now, and, although it is not worth posting, I think it will be best to send it off. I may put in a P.S. if there is opportunity."Anyway, believe me, as ever and for ever,"Your affectionate father,"W. B."
"Hadley Wood,
"May3, 1912.
"My very dear Lucy,--
"Your letter is to hand. I am interested in all you say. It was very kind, indeed beautiful, of you to sit by the couch of dear Erickson all those hours. But it will be a recollection of pleasure all through your life, and I have no doubt, after the fading hours of this life have passed out of sight and thought, it will give you satisfaction in the life to come.
"There is a great deal in your suggestion that we should do more in the hospitals. It would be, as you say, beyond question a means of blessing and comfort--indeed, of Salvation to many of the lovely, suffering, dying people whose melancholy lot carries them there. But the old difficulty bars the way--the want of Officers and money for the task. Well, we are doing something in this direction, and we must wait for the power to do more.
"I think much about many of the things you say. Your practical common sense comes out at every turn. Based, as your comments and suggestions usually are, on thereligion of love, makes them very precious.
"Go on, my dear girl. God, I feel, is preparing you for something very useful in His Kingdom. I feel quite sure.
"But, oh, do be careful and not overrun your strength.
"Through mercy I am keeping better. I had a very trying day yesterday on the top of my table work, which I find a continuous trial to my nerves, but I came through it--that is, through yesterday's hard pull. It was a visit to my native town. But you will read about it in theCry.
"I am eating much more, not only in quantity, but am indulging in a little more variety.
"My difficulty at the moment is, that while a good supper helps me to sleep, a scanty supper is agreeable to my brains, and my feelings hinder me from sleeping, as I am so lively after it.
"Later.
"I have just had a nice little sleep. Quite refreshing it has been, and very welcome also.
"I am now in for a cup of tea. What a pleasure it would be if you were here to pour it out and chatter to me while I drink it.
"Well, I had anticipated this delight on my visit to Norway and Sweden in this coming July, but that, I am afraid, will not come--that is, my visit to Denmark; but I shall hold on to it (D.V.) in connexion with my Annual Campaign in Berlin and round about. Then I shall expect quite a long stay in your Territory, similar to my last; or better, I hope.
"I am positively working night and day now, and only hope I shall not break down; but I am careful, after all, and seem to be really substantially improved.
"I cannot finish this letter now, and, although it is not worth posting, I think it will be best to send it off. I may put in a P.S. if there is opportunity.
"Anyway, believe me, as ever and for ever,
"Your affectionate father,
"W. B."
At his last public Meeting to celebrate his 83d birthday, at the Royal Albert Hall, on the 9th day of May, the General had said:--
"And now comrades and friends I must say good-bye. I am going into dry dock for repairs, but The Army will not be allowed to suffer, either financially or spiritually, or in any other way by my absence, and in the long future I think it will be seen--I shall not be here to see, but you will, that The Army will answer every doubt and banish every fear and strangle every slander, and by its marvellous success show to the world that it is the work of God and that The General has been His Servant."
"And now comrades and friends I must say good-bye. I am going into dry dock for repairs, but The Army will not be allowed to suffer, either financially or spiritually, or in any other way by my absence, and in the long future I think it will be seen--I shall not be here to see, but you will, that The Army will answer every doubt and banish every fear and strangle every slander, and by its marvellous success show to the world that it is the work of God and that The General has been His Servant."
In his last letter to the Chief, he wrote two months later:--
"International Headquarters, London, E.C."July 4, 1912."My Dear Chief,--"I am pleased to hear that you are sticking to your intention of going away for a few days, in spite of my continued affliction, for affliction it can truthfully be called."I am very poorly, and the trial of it is that I cannot see any positive prospect of a definite, speedy recovery. But it will come; I have never seriously doubted it. God won't let me finish off in this disheartening manner--disheartening, I mean, to my comrades, and to those I have to leave with the responsibility of keeping the Banner flying. God will still do wonders, in spite of men and devils."All will be well. Miriam will get well, Mary will get well, and both be brave warriors. Florrie will flourish more than ever, and you will be stronger; and, although it may require more patience and skill, I shall rally!"I am in real pain and difficulty while I dictate this. These horrid spasms seem to sit on me like a mountain, but I felt I could not let you go without a longer good-bye and a more affectionate kiss than what is so ordinarily. This is a poor thing, but it speaks of the feeling of my heart, and the most fervent prayer of my soul. Love to all,"Yours, as ever,"W. B."The Chief of the Staff."
"International Headquarters, London, E.C.
"July 4, 1912.
"My Dear Chief,--
"I am pleased to hear that you are sticking to your intention of going away for a few days, in spite of my continued affliction, for affliction it can truthfully be called.
"I am very poorly, and the trial of it is that I cannot see any positive prospect of a definite, speedy recovery. But it will come; I have never seriously doubted it. God won't let me finish off in this disheartening manner--disheartening, I mean, to my comrades, and to those I have to leave with the responsibility of keeping the Banner flying. God will still do wonders, in spite of men and devils.
"All will be well. Miriam will get well, Mary will get well, and both be brave warriors. Florrie will flourish more than ever, and you will be stronger; and, although it may require more patience and skill, I shall rally!
"I am in real pain and difficulty while I dictate this. These horrid spasms seem to sit on me like a mountain, but I felt I could not let you go without a longer good-bye and a more affectionate kiss than what is so ordinarily. This is a poor thing, but it speaks of the feeling of my heart, and the most fervent prayer of my soul. Love to all,
"Yours, as ever,
"W. B.
"The Chief of the Staff."
To his second daughter, in command of The Army in the United States, his last letter read as follows:--
"July 20, 1912."My dear, dear Eva,--"I had your letter. Bless you a thousand times! You are a lovely correspondent. You don't write your letters with your pen, or with your tongue, you write them with your heart. Hearts are different; some, I suppose, are born sound and musical, others are born uncertain and unmusical, and are at best a mere tinkling cymbal. Yours, I have no doubt, has blessed and cheered and delighted the soul of the mother who bore you from the very first opening of your eyes upon the world, and that dear heart has gone on with that cheering influence from that time to the present, and it will go on cheering everybody around you who have loved you, and it will go on cheering among the rest your loving brother Bramwell and your devoted General right away to the end; nay, will go on endlessly, for there is to be no conclusion to our affection."I want it to be so. I want it to be my own experience. Love, to be a blessing, must be ambitious, boundless, and eternal. O Lord, help me! and O Lord, destroy everything in me that interferes with the prosperity, growth, and fruitfulness of this precious, Divine, and everlasting fruit!"I have been ill--I have been very ill indeed. I have had a return of my indigestion in its most terrible form. This spasmodic feeling of suffocation has so distressed me that at times it has seemed almost impossible for me to exist. Still, I have fought my way through, and the doctors this afternoon have told me, as bluntly and plainly as an opinion could be given to a man, that I must struggle on and not give way, or the consequences will be very serious."Then, too, the eye has caused me much pain, but that has very much, if not entirely, passed off, and the oculist tells me that the eye will heal up. But, alas! alas! I am absolutely blind. It is very painful, but I am not the only blind man in the world, and I can easily see how, if I am spared, I shall be able to do a good deal of valuable work."So I am going to make another attempt at work. What do you think of that? I have sat down this afternoon, not exactly to the desk, but any way to the duties of the desk, and I am going to strive to stick to them if I possibly can. I have been down to some of my meals; I have had a walk in the garden, and now it is proposed for me to take a drive in a motor, I believe some kind soul is loaning me. Anyhow, I am going to have some machine that will shuffle me along the street, road, and square, and I will see how that acts on my nerves, and then perhaps try something more."However, I am going into action once more in the Salvation War, and I believe, feeble as I am, God is going to give me another good turn, and another blessed wave of success."You will pray for me. I would like before I die--it has been one of the choicest wishes of my soul--to be able to make The Salvation Army such a power for God and of such benefit to mankind that no wicked people can spoil it."Salvation for ever! Salvation--Yellow, Red, and Blue! I am for it, my darling, and so are you."I have heard about your Open-Air services with the greatest satisfaction, and praise God with all my heart that in the midst of the difficulties of climate and politics, etc., you have been able to go forward."I have the daily papers read to me, and among other things that are very mysterious and puzzling are the particulars that I gather of the dreadful heat that you have had to suffer, both as a people and as individuals."You seem to have, indeed, been having lively times with the weather. It must have tried you very much."My telling you not to fret about me is the proper thing to do. That is my business in this world very largely, and if I can only comfort your dear heart--well, I shall do good work."Good-bye, my darling child. Write to me as often as you can, but not when overburdened. I am with you, and for you, and in you for ever and ever. Love to everybody."Your affectionate father and General,"William Booth."
"July 20, 1912.
"My dear, dear Eva,--
"I had your letter. Bless you a thousand times! You are a lovely correspondent. You don't write your letters with your pen, or with your tongue, you write them with your heart. Hearts are different; some, I suppose, are born sound and musical, others are born uncertain and unmusical, and are at best a mere tinkling cymbal. Yours, I have no doubt, has blessed and cheered and delighted the soul of the mother who bore you from the very first opening of your eyes upon the world, and that dear heart has gone on with that cheering influence from that time to the present, and it will go on cheering everybody around you who have loved you, and it will go on cheering among the rest your loving brother Bramwell and your devoted General right away to the end; nay, will go on endlessly, for there is to be no conclusion to our affection.
"I want it to be so. I want it to be my own experience. Love, to be a blessing, must be ambitious, boundless, and eternal. O Lord, help me! and O Lord, destroy everything in me that interferes with the prosperity, growth, and fruitfulness of this precious, Divine, and everlasting fruit!
"I have been ill--I have been very ill indeed. I have had a return of my indigestion in its most terrible form. This spasmodic feeling of suffocation has so distressed me that at times it has seemed almost impossible for me to exist. Still, I have fought my way through, and the doctors this afternoon have told me, as bluntly and plainly as an opinion could be given to a man, that I must struggle on and not give way, or the consequences will be very serious.
"Then, too, the eye has caused me much pain, but that has very much, if not entirely, passed off, and the oculist tells me that the eye will heal up. But, alas! alas! I am absolutely blind. It is very painful, but I am not the only blind man in the world, and I can easily see how, if I am spared, I shall be able to do a good deal of valuable work.
"So I am going to make another attempt at work. What do you think of that? I have sat down this afternoon, not exactly to the desk, but any way to the duties of the desk, and I am going to strive to stick to them if I possibly can. I have been down to some of my meals; I have had a walk in the garden, and now it is proposed for me to take a drive in a motor, I believe some kind soul is loaning me. Anyhow, I am going to have some machine that will shuffle me along the street, road, and square, and I will see how that acts on my nerves, and then perhaps try something more.
"However, I am going into action once more in the Salvation War, and I believe, feeble as I am, God is going to give me another good turn, and another blessed wave of success.
"You will pray for me. I would like before I die--it has been one of the choicest wishes of my soul--to be able to make The Salvation Army such a power for God and of such benefit to mankind that no wicked people can spoil it.
"Salvation for ever! Salvation--Yellow, Red, and Blue! I am for it, my darling, and so are you.
"I have heard about your Open-Air services with the greatest satisfaction, and praise God with all my heart that in the midst of the difficulties of climate and politics, etc., you have been able to go forward.
"I have the daily papers read to me, and among other things that are very mysterious and puzzling are the particulars that I gather of the dreadful heat that you have had to suffer, both as a people and as individuals.
"You seem to have, indeed, been having lively times with the weather. It must have tried you very much.
"My telling you not to fret about me is the proper thing to do. That is my business in this world very largely, and if I can only comfort your dear heart--well, I shall do good work.
"Good-bye, my darling child. Write to me as often as you can, but not when overburdened. I am with you, and for you, and in you for ever and ever. Love to everybody.
"Your affectionate father and General,
"William Booth."
To an Officer whom he regarded almost as a daughter, and whose hearing had been greatly affected, he wrote:--
My Dear C.,--"Thanks for your sympathetic letter. It is good of you to think about me now and then. Specially so as you must be much and often exercised about your own affliction."Perhaps you will think that it is easier for me to accept mine than it will be for you to accept yours. I have just been thinking that to have any difficulty in the Hearing Organ is not so serious as a difficulty with the Seeing. You can read and write, and with a little contrivance and patience you can hear any communication that may be specially interesting and important. It is true, you are shut out from the pleasure and profit that comes from the general conversation of a company, and from listening to Public Speakers, although a great deal that you miss is no serious loss at all!"In my case, I can imagine I am worse off. With me, reading is impossible, and writing is so difficult that, although I can scratch a few lines, the work soon becomes so taxing and difficult that I have to relinquish it. So we'll sympathise the one with the other. We will trust in God, take courage, and look forward to brighter days."Anyway, God lives, and there are a thousand things we can do for Him, and what we can do we will do, and we will do it with our might."
My Dear C.,--
"Thanks for your sympathetic letter. It is good of you to think about me now and then. Specially so as you must be much and often exercised about your own affliction.
"Perhaps you will think that it is easier for me to accept mine than it will be for you to accept yours. I have just been thinking that to have any difficulty in the Hearing Organ is not so serious as a difficulty with the Seeing. You can read and write, and with a little contrivance and patience you can hear any communication that may be specially interesting and important. It is true, you are shut out from the pleasure and profit that comes from the general conversation of a company, and from listening to Public Speakers, although a great deal that you miss is no serious loss at all!
"In my case, I can imagine I am worse off. With me, reading is impossible, and writing is so difficult that, although I can scratch a few lines, the work soon becomes so taxing and difficult that I have to relinquish it. So we'll sympathise the one with the other. We will trust in God, take courage, and look forward to brighter days.
"Anyway, God lives, and there are a thousand things we can do for Him, and what we can do we will do, and we will do it with our might."
Every thoughtful reader of this volume will naturally have asked himself many times over, how was it possible for the Leader of a great world-wide Mission to leave his Headquarters, year after year, for weeks and sometimes for months at a time, without involving great risk of disaster to his Army?
The answer, familiar to every one at Headquarters, and, indeed, to many others, lay in the existence, largely out of sight even to the vast majority of the Soldiers of The Army, of a man who, since his very youth, had been The General's unwearyable assistant. It was the present General Bramwell Booth, content to toil mostly at executive or administrative work, whether at Headquarters or elsewhere, unseen and unapplauded, who was ceaselessly watching over every portion of the vast whole, and as ceaselessly preparing for advances, noting defects, stopping mistaken movements, and urging at every turn, upon every one, the importance of prayer and faith, the danger of self-confidence, and, the certainty of God's sufficiency for all who relied wholly upon Him. It was this organiser of victory in the individual and on many fields who made it possible for the Army to march forward whilst its General was receiving from city to city, and from village to village, in motor and other tours, the reward of faithful service to the poorest everywhere, and was also ever advancing on the common foe.
Therefore this book could not be complete without some account of the then Chief of the Staff to explain his construction.
Born in Halifax, in 1856, amidst one of those great Revival Tours in which his parents shared in the tremendous toils that brought, in every place they visited, hundreds of souls into deep conviction of sin and hearty submission to God, the little one must have drunk in, from his very childhood, some of that anxiety for the perishing, and joy in their deliverance, which form the basis of a Salvationist career. Named after one of the greatest Holiness preachers, who accompanied John Wesley in his campaigning, in the express hope to both father and mother, that he should become an apostle of that teaching, the faith of his parents received abundant fulfilment in his after life.
As a boy he shared with them all the vicissitudes of their eight gipsy years, during which they were practically without a home, and the one settled year of (as they thought) half wasted time, amidst the usual formalities, always galling to them both, or ordinary Church life; so that, with his usual acuteness of observation, he must have noted all their horror of routine, and learnt, more than anybody noticed, the reasons why the Churches had become divorced from the crowds and the crowds from the Churches.
In his tenth year, when they settled in London, and began their real life work, he cannot but have partaken fully of the satisfaction this gave to them, whilst they were, as yet, buried amidst the mass of East-End misery. It was shortly before the foundation of the Work that he was converted at one of his mother's own Meetings. The shrinking from publicity, which seems an essential part of every conscientious person, held him long back from resolving to become one of their Officers. But during all the years between his being saved and that great decision, he was constantly helping, first in Children's Meetings, and then in office work, so that at twenty-one he was already a very experienced man, both in the work of saving souls, and in much of the business management for which a great Movement calls.
When I first saw him at seventeen, he was still studying; but he had been, during the previous eighteen months of the General's illness and absence, his mother's mainstay in the managing both the public and the office work of "The Christian Mission," and the Secretary and, largely, manager of a set of soup kitchens, the precursors, in some ways, of our present Social Wing. For all this to be possible to a lad of seventeen, of delicate health, may give some little indication of the faculties with which God had endowed him.
It was not, however, till five years later, when he had fully conquered his own taste for a medical career that he gave himself fully to the War. Alone, or with one of his sisters, he visited the towns where many of our largest Corps were being raised, holding Meetings in theatres and other popular resorts, so that he gained first-hand all the experiences of Officers, both in the pioneering days and in the after years of struggle against all manner of difficulty, when every sort of problem as to individuals, and Corps, had to be dealt with from hour to hour.
This much to explain how it was possible for a man so young to become at twenty-five the worthy and capable Chief of the Staff of an Army already at work in both hemispheres and on both sides of the world. The reader will also be able to understand how the Chief, travelling by night as often as by day, could visit the General in the midst of any of his Campaigns, and in the course of a brief journey from city to city, or between night and morning confer fully with him, and take decisions upon matters that could not await even the delay of a mail.
The comfort to The General, as he often testified, of the continual faithful service of this slave of a son was one of the most invaluable forces of his life. Whilst, on the one side we may see in such self-renouncing abandonment a certificate to and evidence of the nature of The General's own life, we must read in it, at the same time, some part of the explanation of his boundless activities and influence.
For the Chief of those days, The General of these, to have gone to and come away from his father's daily scenes of triumph without getting the slightest appetite himself for public displays, or yielding in the slightest to the craving after human support or encouragement, to turn him aside from the humdrum of duty, is one proof of those gracious evidences of God's saving and keeping power with which the history of The Salvation Army abounds.