The Authoritative Life of General William Booth Part 30

"No laboured rhetoric," said a Leipzig paper, "distinguished the speech, and applause was not won by catchy phrases. The speaker talks like a plain man to plain people. Everybody listens enthralled as he tells of his life's work, of the unbounded love with which he would like to surround and lead to Salvation every one who lives and moves. One gets to understand how this man could gather around him such ma.s.ses of disciples, and why, right and left, many a lady deeply touched puts her handkerchief to her eyes and many a man wipes a tear from his cheek."

Best of all, however, comes ever and anon in these reports the testimony that The General has not been a mere talker, like so many others of his day, but has raised up a real fighting force who have, by gradual painstaking labour and endurance, won for him this unbounded confidence in what he says of The Army's religion.

"I remember," writes one reporter, "how in the nineties, in Berlin, no Soldier, much less a Sister, could appear in the street without being laughed at at every step, made fun of, and even abused, and I visited Meetings in which there was great disorder. But how the picture was altered a few years later! Quietly and patiently the Soldiers let scorn and even a.s.saults pa.s.s, until the very rowdiest of the Berliners were sick of it. And on the other hand every one soon said that these people, after all, were doing nothing but to go right at the deepest miseries of the great cities--that they fed the hungry, visited the sick, and generally carried out practical Christianity."

"True," writes another, "it is naturally not every one whose taste is pleased with the ceremonies of The Army; but before the world-wide, unending, unselfish work of the Salvationist every one feels like saying, 'Hats off!'

"It was not mere love of sensation that led such a stream of men to the Princes Hall on Tuesday evening. They wished for once to come face to face with the old General whose work they had learnt in the course of time to value. Men of science, clergymen and officials and educated people generally, for once made The Army their rendezvous."

And those who had heard the General before immediately recognised that they had not only to do with the very same resolute Leader, following the one aim with undiminished ardour, but relying upon the same old Gospel to win the world for Christ.

"He speaks," says a Hamburg paper, "mostly with his hands behind his back, swaying gently to and fro. The short, sharp English sentences are translated one by one. It is the old recruiting talk of the chief captain in the fight against the sins of this world, the pressing exhortation to get converted at once, to-day, in this very hour. It is the old entreaty to become a child of G.o.d, in spite of all opposition; the old call to purity of heart and life.

Whoever has wandered must come back again. He who has fallen a hundred times must get up again for the hundred and first time.

"This General believes in the Salvation of the worst and the most deeply sunken. He preaches the gospel of holding on, of going steadily forwards, of freedom from the l.u.s.ts of the flesh and from public opinion. He preaches at the same time the gospel of work, of unwearied faithfulness in business, and of love to all mankind.

"When he has finished The Army sings with musical accompaniment and clapping of hands its glad and even merry-sounding songs, not without a mixture of that sudden inrush of enthusiasm which springs from the conviction of having the only faith that can make people blessed, and the consciousness of a resistance hard to be overcome.

And then begins that extraordinary urgent exhorting of the sinner from the stage--the ten-and-twenty times repeated 'Come'--come to the Penitent-Form, represented here by a row of twenty chairs. 'In the last Meeting of The General's in Copenhagen thirty-three came out. How many will it be in Hamburg?' cries the leading Officer.

"The first are soon kneeling, sobbing, praying, their hands over their eyes at the chairs. Ever new songs are sung--spiritual songs set to worldly melodies. Ever anew sounds the ringing 'Come' from the stage. Below, the men and women Soldiers go from one to another, speaking to the hesitating ones, laying a hand on the shoulder of the ready ones, and leading them to the front. What a long time it may be since any loving hand was laid on the shoulder of many of those Recruits! Life, the rough, pitiless life of the great city, has always been pus.h.i.+ng them along lower and lower down till it got them underfoot. Here they listen to the sound of a voice of sympathy, and feel the pressure of a hand that wishes to lead them. And there above sits The General for a while in an arm-chair, saying: 'The deepest-fallen may rise again. He has only to step out into the ranks of The Army, which is marching upwards to the Land of Grace.' As we left the Hall the thirty-fourth had already come out."

It must be remembered that all these descriptions come from part of a single month's journeys, and that The General was dependent upon translation for nearly every moment of intercourse either in public or private with the people, and that it will be entirely understood how great a power for G.o.d in this world a man entirely given up may be after he has pa.s.sed his eightieth year, and with what clearness witness for G.o.d can be borne even in a strange tongue when it is plain and definite.

"From time immemorial it has been customary to cla.s.s philanthropists amongst the extraordinaries, the marvellous people--who do not pa.s.s muster in the common world--exceptions.

n.o.body thinks of measuring himself with them, for the battle of life belongs to the egotists--each one of whom fights for himself.

He who fights for others is smilingly acknowledged by the well-disposed as a stranger in the world. The ordinary man of the street pitilessly calls him a fool, and the ma.s.s considers him unworthy of a second thought. He is there, and he is endured so long as he does not bother any one.

"There are three factors against which the old General has had to fight all his life long--against well-meaning hesitation, against hard-hearted egoism, and against the idle indifference born of ignorance. And these three streams that have flowed against him in every part of the world have not been able to hold him back. To those who think he has only become an important man, and to those who measure a man's worth by the outer honours he gains, he became a man of importance when London made him a citizen and Oxford an honorary Doctor. And now men are better inclined to excuse in his case the curious t.i.tle of General of a curious Army.

"I have often heard the grey-headed General in Public Meetings. For the first time on Sat.u.r.day evening I got near to him in a more private way. And then it seemed to me like a picture, as when a grey warrior, a commander with snow-white beard and keen profile, stands upright by the mast of a s.h.i.+p and gazes straight before him towards a new country.

"And General Booth, despite his eighty-one years, is looking out towards new land. He does not live on memories like the generality of old men. He does not allow himself any favoured spot by the fireside. Full of fight and always leading, General Booth stands at the centre of a gigantic apparatus. And the old gentleman does not look like allowing men to take the control out of his hands.

"Everything about him displays energy and justifiable self-consciousness. He energetically shook my hand. With the ability of the man of the world he drew the conversation to that which was nearest to his heart. And what his eyes can no longer exactly observe his ears doubly well hear. He arrived on Friday evening from Denmark, holds three Meetings in Hamburg on Sunday, travels on to Potsdam on Monday, and occupies himself with thoughts of a journey of inspection in India.

"The comfortable arm-chair that was offered him he declined almost as if it were an insult.' That is meant for an old man,' he said; and really the remark was justified when one heard the plans of the grey General, for he has plans such as one of the youngest might have. He appears to me like an able business man who constantly thinks how to expand his undertaking and to supply it with all the novelties that a time of progress offers. He has altogether modern views. He does not hold fast with the reluctance of old age to old things, except to the old faith.

"In the Meetings The General seemed to me rather severe; but that disappears when you get at him personally, especially when you have got used to his way of speaking. He almost flings each sentence out. Every phrase, accompanied by some energetic gesture, is like a war cry. 'I will, and I carry out what I will,' seems to breathe in all about him; and who can complain of this will, this iron resoluteness with which he works at the raising up of men. He is in his kingdom an unlimited ruler, but one with a benevolent look who sees for the benefit of the blind. He must be all that for his extraordinary work.

"The General asks us to put questions. I could not manage it. It seemed to me to be so useless in the presence of this important man. So he said, 'We are never satisfied with the progress we make in view of what still remains to be done.' He spoke of the progress made by the Social Work of The Army in Germany, and of his plans.

"I never heard The General speak without his having plans, upon the carrying out of which he was at work with all his might. He puts his whole body and soul into whatever he is engaged in.

"'The Salvation Army is the most interesting thing under the sun,'

said The General at the close of this earnest talk, and then added, jokingly, 'next to the Hamburg Press.'

"On the Sunday I saw him again as he spoke to a Meeting of thousands, a curiously mixed public, where there were many of the foremost gentlemen and ladies of society and many very common people. All, however, were equally enthused. I will only mention a couple of sentences out of the speech: 'The Army wants to come into compet.i.tion with n.o.body, only to be a friendly helper--n.o.body's enemy, but the friend of everybody. It will gladly be an inspiration and example. It has become the almsgiver for many Governments. It is not British because it was born in Britain, just as little as Christianity is Jewish because it came into the world in Judea.'"--Else Meerstedt.

Now that we see it all but completed, we think this book singularly wanting in reference to The General's frequent merriness of mood. We have thought it needless to insert any of the amusing anecdotes that could have been so abundantly culled from any of his visits to any country had we not been so anxious to select from the small s.p.a.ce at our disposal what was most important.

Nor have we wished to present the reader with the portrait of an infallible genius, or a saint who never said or did anything that he afterwards regretted. A victim almost all his life to extreme indigestion, it is indeed to all who knew him best marvellous that he could endure so much of misery without more frequently expressing in terms of unpleasant frankness his irritation at the faults and mistakes of others. But really after his death as during his life we have been far too busy in trying to help in accomplis.h.i.+ng his great lifework to note these details of human frailty.

Chapter XXIV

The End

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 suns.h.i.+ne. 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 quant.i.ty 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-h.e.l.lberg, 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 pa.s.sed 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:--

"Sat.u.r.day, _February_ 12, 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 depot 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 Ma.s.s 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, _February_ 13, 1910.--Had a wonderful day. Far ahead of anything experienced before in this place. My opinion about it is jotted down in _The 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, _February_ 14, 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, _February_ 15, 1910.--Had a fair night's sleep. The strange feelings in the head continue off and on, and the fact that they don't pa.s.s 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 a.s.sen in half an hour.