Catherine Booth | Page 9

care not for frown or praise of man. Rest not till your soul is
fully alive to God.' How truly she herself carried this out in her own

Meetings you will hear later on.
Miss Mumford was very anxious that The General should improve
himself with plenty of hard work. She saw what he might become, and
she also knew that unless he did his part all those wonderful powers
which God had lent to him would be thrown away.
'Do assure me,' she writes, 'my own dear William, that no want of
energy or effort on your part shall hinder the improvement of those
talents God has given you.'
So that, with his constant travelling and preaching, he might get time to
read and think and learn, she suggested a little plan to him in his billets.
'Could you not,' she says, 'provide yourself with a small leather bag or
case, large enough to hold your Bible and any other book you might
require--pens, ink, paper and a candle? And, presuming that you
generally have a room to yourself, could you not rise by six o'clock
every morning, and convert your bedroom into a study till breakfast
time?... I hope, my dearest love, you will consider this plan, and keep
to it, if possible, as a general practice. Don't let little difficulties prevent
your carrying it out.'
You must remember that at this time neither Catherine nor Mr. Booth
ever dreamed of the wonderful work they were to be called to do. He
was then preaching and getting souls saved, mostly in country places,
and had many a 'hard go,' but that was no reason why he should not
improve.
Did The General like this advice and counsel? Or did he feel, as some
men do to-day, that women cannot judge nor understand such things?
Ah! he was wise, and only too glad to have all the help that Catherine
could give him. In fact, he often wrote begging her to help him more.
The outlines for addresses which she sent him weekly he valued and
used, as this letter shows:--
'I have,' he writes, 'just taken hold of that sketch you sent me on "Be
not deceived," and am about to make a full sermon on it. I like it much.
It is admirable.
'I want a sermon on the Flood, one on Jonah, and one on the Judgment.
Send me some bare thoughts, some clear, startling outlines. We must
have that kind of truth which will move sinners.'
But if Catherine Mumford was anxious about the mind and work of her
future husband, much more was she anxious about his soul. To her,

there could be no true love without faithfulness, and where she felt it
necessary, she cautioned him in the truest and tenderest way:--
'You have special need,' she writes, 'for watchfulness and for much
private intercourse with God.
'My dearest love, beware how you indulge that dangerous element of
character, ambition. Misdirected, it will be everlasting ruin to yourself,
and perhaps to me also. Oh, my love, let nothing earthly excite it; let
not the wish to be great fire it. Fix it on the Throne of the Eternal, and
let it find the realization of its loftiest aspirations in the promotion of
His glory, and it shall be consummated with the richest enjoyments and
brightest glories of God's own Heaven.'
You wonder, perhaps, if Catherine ever wrote 'love letters,' as we call
them. She never wrote the foolish and sentimental letters which say a
great deal, and mean very little; but she was able to put her great love
into words strong, intense, and full of tenderness.
'Do I remember?' she asks in one letter. 'Yes, I remember all--all that
has bound us together. All the bright and happy, as well as the clouded
and sorrowful times of our fellowship. Nothing relating to you can time
or place erase from my memory. Your words, your looks, your actions,
even the most trivial and incidental, come up before me as fresh as life.
If I meet a child called William, I am more interested in him than in
any other. Bless you. Keep your spirits up, and hope much for the
future. God lives and loves us, and we shall be one in Him, loving each
other as Christ loved us.'
William Booth and Catherine Mumford were married in London, on
June 15, 1855; and here are a few lines from the last letter she wrote to
him before the engagement was ended, and the long thirty-five years of
happy married life began:--
'I long to see you. Your letters do not satisfy the yearnings of my heart.
Perhaps they ought to. I wish it were differently constituted. I might be
much happier. But it will