The GOSPEL TRUTH
LIFE of

WILLIAM BOOTH

FOUNDER and FIRST GENERAL

of the SALVATION ARMY

 by

Harold Begbie

1920

In Two Volumes

Volume 2

Chapter 31

 

THE DARKNESS DEEPENS

1911

 

THROUGHOUT the journal for 1911 we find such entries as those which follow:

From one thing or the other I certainly woke this morning, or came to the conclusion soon after waking, that the end might be drawing near.

The words Worn Out came to my lips. Was I not like unto a worn-out garment, I asked myself. My feelings seemed to favour an affirmative.

 

Sitting in my study I had one of those strange sensations in my head which I have come to associate with the lapses of consciousness which I have suffered off and on now for some time.

I took little notice of this feeling, but an hour or so afterwards, perhaps half an hour, I am informed that I lost all consciousness as to where I was and as to the work ahead of me.

tried to bring me to, but failed. However, I lay down on the couch and went to sleep for a couple of hours.

Waking up I became conscious that I was unconscious, rang the bell and inquired where I was. ---- said "At home." I asked, What is next to be done? "Eating," he replied. What then? "You will sleep again." What then? "Lowestoft." With "Lowestoft" my brain seemed to wake up, and I was myself--perfectly myself again.

 

Went back from the tea-table to finish the conference, when one of those unpleasant lapses of consciousness, which I have suffered occasionally for a couple of years, took place. This coming on me when I was standing, I slipped to the ground ....

 

I felt it best to see Dr. Guthrie, a Specialist in Nerve affections, whom I had seen before .... The Doctor had nothing to say fresh, but simply assured me there was nothing that could be considered brain disease or the stroke nature, but it was nothing more or less than brain exhaustion.

 

He wrote to his daughter Eva, the Commander in the United States:

Your letter has been read to me. My sight is much worse, or it appears to be, as you will see from this scribble. However, I cannot help feeling that I must write you with my own hand as long as I can.

The world is in a poor way and we must help it. Let us have faith in God--more faith than ever. I am beginning to look across the Atlantic and anticipate the joy of seeing you once more. Surely we shall have time to talk our hearts out a little, if it is only a little.

 

The darkness was creeping over his vision, and there were times when he could do nothing but turn his face to the wall and wonder what it all meant.

But there are still flashes of the old spirit in this brief and rather broken record. Thus, on his visit to Rugby:

Was photographed side by side with my host at his request before starting, and then bade good-bye to the Master of Rugby School ....

There was a little unpleasant passage between us that puzzled me very much during one of my conversations with Dr. David, my host. I remarked on the great opportunity that the English Church at the moment possessed. I remarked upon her entry upon all classes, both rich and poor, and her influence of every kind, and he rather startled me by replying that she was using it to the utmost of her opportunity.

I slightly demurred, because I realized where I was. I did not want to get into any controversy, or to be thought in the slightest degree depreciatory.

 

But it seems that either that observationn or some other made a different impression, and as we parted he remarked in a rather unpleasant manner, that he was sorry I had such a sweeping condemnation for his Church.

 

Then comes an entry which is authentic Booth:

At the close of my address, my Chairman. Captain Wade Thompson, whispered to me that a lady wanted me to give a Gospel message to the audience. She had actually requested him to stop me in the middle of my speech and ask for this. I was puzzled, because I thought I had been preaching the Gospel, both directly and indirectly, all the way through! However, it induced me, in moving the vote of thanks to the Chairman, to half promise to come back and preach to them. On leaving the platform, I shook hands with the lads, and she really went for me, you might say, on the question of this Gospel message, and was so fierce I could not get anything in. I was too weary to do any more shouting, so I bade her good-bye.

He had an interview this year with Lord Radstock (the Lord Apostol, as he was called in Petersburg), but leaves no comment upon it. On the other hand, of a popular lady novelist we have this impression:

Tea with Marie Corelli. She was far more free, friendly, and gossipy than I expected to find her; more interested in the Army she could not have seemed to be, and promised to write something when there is an opportunity. She and the friend who resides with her were at the evening meeting, and laughed and appeared to enjoy themselves right truly.

And of an interview with General Botha, who called at Headquarters, he writes:

Much pleased with him. He was most hearty. I think our talk will bring forth some important results in the future.

He was always meeting interesting people, as the reader will remember, on his various railway journeys. In October of this year, when in Scotland, we read:

Left for Helensburgh at 10.0. Just before the train moved off the door was opened, and I was informed that the Princess Louise was in the next compartment with the Duke of Argyll, and would like to shake hands with me. I said, "By all means." She came to me, got into my compartment, and rode with me half the journey. With the jolliest, happiest, and most sympathetic spirit we talked over matters of usefulness. She is very interested in the Housing of the Poor, and wants us to do something. That is rather strange, seeing that I wanted to find somebody made for the subject. She indicated that she had a nephew who was the individual I wanted. I must see him!

The Duke and Princess got out at a Station before we reached our destination. I bade them good-bye, and they pressed me very much to go over and spend a little time with them at their Castle, one of their summer residences. I was very much impressed with the Princess.

 

Later in the year he received a letter saying: "The Duke of Argyll hopes to be under your orders at the Spa Road on December 7."

It almost takes the breath away to read how this man, eighty-one years of age and in very uncertain health, travelled about the world conducting passionate meetings for the salvation of mankind. He visited in this year Holland, Switzerland, Scandinavia, Germany, and Italy.

We get from this tour of 1911 another glimpse of the General among prisoners and captives:

 

By invitation of the Governor I addressed the prisoners in a prison outside Copenhagen. The Chapel in which the meeting as held was full. It was a peculiar experience. Each man sat a kind of box similar to those occupied by Night Watchmen, and wore a mask until he was out of sight of his comrades. The whole thing had a very peculiar aspect. A song was sung, a prayer was offered~I think I prayed myself. I talked to them with all the simplicity and thoughtfulness I could command. God helped me... Commissioner Lucy [his daughter, Mrs. Booth-Hellberg] was admitted on condition that she sat behind a screen.

The Governor invited us to a cup of tea, but I was so weary and heart-sick from the sight I had been looking upon for the last hour, that I did not feel like partaking of any refreshment, and then I had the notion somehow or other, from the manner of the Governor and the Chaplain, that they were not very sympathetic with me, so I made away as soon as possible.

 

On the following day he adds: I hear that a deep impression was made yesterday at the Prison, especially on the Chaplain. The Head Gardener it seems is an ex-Salvation Officer. How he made an exchange of position I don't know. There was a lad there who said to the Pastor, "I am so glad I set that house on fire in Jyland." The Pastor said, "Carl, Carl, what do you mean? Oh," said he, "if I had not done that I should never have heard the General."

I prize that incident, because it shows how accessible the hearts of these people are to the Truth, and confirms my conviction that, if they could only be kept long enough to allow the means ordinarily employed for the conviction of sinners to be brought to bear upon their hearts, there is hope for every one of them.

The reports of all his meetings during this tour, in his eighty-second year, tell the same tale of extraordinary crowds, and irrepressible enthusiasm. Unfortunately, they lack that Booth touch which relieves a paean of monotonous success with something dry, caustic, and a little out of tune. The following extract is a fair example of the fanfare sounded by his journalistic accompanist, and will give the reader an idea of the interest and sympathy which almost everywhere manifested itself at the appearance of the patriarch:

Arrived in Rome about 9 o'clock this morning. After breakfast the General felt a little better, and after a short rest went off to be received by the Lord Mayor of Rome and other notabilities. In the afternoon he saw two Press representatives and some bishops, and the British Ambassador. The General's Lecture was a most enthusiastic affair. Much applause, and at the conclusion a well-known Roman Judge sprang up and poured forth his thanks and appreciation in a torrent of eloquence. Many pressed round to shake hands with the General.

 

Not only did the General take a leading part at the Army's International Social Council in London, which was attended by Salvationists from all over the world, but he made another tumultuous Motor tour through the country, One of his meetings this year, it is interesting to note, was presided over by Mr. Herbert Samuel, the PostmasterGeneral. [His addresses at this Council were afterwards published in book form, and widely circulated uuder the title ol International Social Council Addresses.]

 

He wrote to Eva Booth on December 8:

 

As I think I said to you before, the preference for writing you in my own hand is a reason you very often do not get a letter from me at all.

But, however, there is no alternative now, you will have to take the feelings and assurances of my heart affection towards you and about you through a medium or you will not get them at all, anyway you will not get them very frequently.

Oh, I do wish I could help you. Oh, I do wish I could help America. I do want to live to bless you! God knows my heart, and perhaps it may be His will that I may revive and help you in realizing the highest ambition of usefulness after which your soul has panted. The helping of the wretched, and the saving them out of the earthly, hellish conditions in which such multitudes live, and the saving of the souls of the people in larger numbers, and the organizing them when they are saved for still further victories, is the dream of almost every hour of my life.

I have been longing for the unspeakable felicity of a little real communion, though it be by letter, ever since this dark cloud fell upon me; nay, indeed, ever since the operation itself, but the waves of suffering in one form or another that have ceaselessly swept over me . . . have prevented it, and now I can only do it through the fingers of my trusted secretary, Ensign Smith, whom you will know sufficiently to feel that my words lose nothing in their meaning or fervour by passing through his fingers.

I am very poorly. I am just sitting up for a few minutes in my dressing-gown and for a few minutes only. The mystery of the calamity constitutes its chief anguish. But anyway I go forward, as I have said in my letter to the Cry, and you will go forward with me. I am sure you will go forward with me in your heart of hearts--that this will, among other things, draw us closer together and unite us more thoroughly in seeking the honour of our Master, the glory of the dear Saviour, and the salvation of the people for whom He died.

 

With love and sympathy for ever and ever and ever, and as many for evers as you like to add on to it.--Your affectionate FATHER.

P.S.--Lucy is very kind. You will know this without my saying so.

 

And then on the last day of the year he writes to her: Your lovely letter, written by your own dear hand, is before me.

I can read your type easily enough if you will only attend to the hints i gave you the other day. The type I get out of my office now is charming, but then I make them use printing-paper and have it dampened before and after going through the machine.

I have done my sermonettes--I have done as good as forty since I came from Germany. The last five or six are not quite up to the mark, but I have done several more than my target, so that I am satisfied with the quality on the whole. If I do any more, they must be done as I fly, as it were.

I had hoped I was going to have to-day to get ready for my public work, and here I am cruelly laid in for a paper on the Anti-suicide Bureau for the Press, and no one is near to help me.

I am feeling fairly well--indeed, much better than for some time, much better than I was with you on both my visits. I think my good eye is a little "gooder" and my bad eye a little "badder."

This is the last day of the old year. All the years of my pilgrimage will soon be old years and be gone for ever. If you were here how gladly would I kiss you and bid you a happy new one. But that cannot be, so from my heart I do it in your absence.

You seem to have had a mighty Christmas so far as feeding the hungry is concerned. We have done something over here. They are talking about ten thousand dinners in London, and I suppose they have done something after the same kind all through the country, but everything is thrown into the shade by your performance across the Atlantic.

I do hope the Army is reaping some permanent benefit from all this exhaustive toil. What an arudous labour it must have been to you. I do hope that the New Year will help New York financially, as we are suffering the effects of the panic over here.

But I cannot, and will not, go on with this sort of chatter, so I bless you and kiss you and say good-bye.

 

The old clock, still obstinately ticking, was beginning to run down.

 

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