The Authoritative Life of General William Booth | Page 3

aims with
regard not only to her children but to her domestics, and indeed to all
who came within her influence. To remove misery was her delight. No
beggar went empty-handed from her door. The sorrows of any poor
wretch were certain of her commiseration, and of a helping hand in
their removal, so far as she had ability. The children of misfortune were
sure of her pity, and the children of misconduct she pitied almost the
more, because, for one reason, they were the cause of sorrow to those
who had reason to mourn on their account.
"For many years before she died, love, joy, and peace reigned in her
heart, beamed from her countenance, and spoke in her words. Her faith
was immovably fixed on Him who is able to save to the uttermost. It
was a common expression of confidence with her that 'Jesus would go
with her all the way through the journey of life--even to the end. He
would not leave her. Her feet were on the Rock.'"
To this testimony to his mother's worth The General added:--
"To those whose eyes may fall on these lines, may I not be excused
saying, 'See to it that you honour your father and your mother, not only
that your days may be long in the land, but that you may not, in after
years, be disturbed by useless longings to have back again the precious
ones who so ceaselessly and unselfishly toiled with heart and brain for
your profoundest well-being.'
"My mother and father were both Derbyshire people. They were born
within a few miles of each other, the former at Somercotes, a small
village within a mile or two of Alfreton and the latter at Belper. My
mother's father was a well-to-do farmer. Her mother died when she was
three years of age; and, her father marrying again, she was taken to the
heart and home of a kind uncle and aunt, who reared and educated her,

giving her at the same time a sound religious training.
"Years passed of which we have but imperfect knowledge during which,
by some means, she drifted to the small town of Ashby-de-la-Zouch.
Here she met my father, who was availing himself of the waters as a
remedy for his chronic enemy, rheumatism. He offered her marriage.
She refused. He left the town indignant, but returned to renew his
proposal, which she ultimately accepted. Their marriage followed. Up
to this date her path through life had been comparatively a smooth one;
but from this hour onward through many long and painful years, it was
crowded with difficulties and anxieties.
"My father's fortunes appear to have begun to wane soon after his
marriage. At that time he would have passed, I suppose, for a rich man,
according to the estimate of riches in those days. But bad times came,
and very bad times they were, such as we know little about, despite all
the grumbling of this modern era. Nottingham, where the family was
then located, suffered heavily, a large proportion of its poorer classes
being reduced to the verge of starvation. My father, who had invested
the entire savings of his lifetime in small house property, was seriously
affected by these calamitous circumstances; in fact, he was ruined.
"The brave way in which my mother stood by his side during that dark
and sorrowful season is indelibly written on my memory. She shared
his every anxiety, advised him in all his business perplexities, and
upheld his spirit as crash followed crash, and one piece of property
after another went overboard. Years of heavy affliction followed,
during which she was his tender, untiring nurse, comforting and
upholding his spirit unto death; and then she stood out all alone to fight
the battles of his children amidst the wreck of his fortunes.
"Those days were gloomy indeed; and the wonder now in looking back
upon them is that she survived them. It would have seemed a perfectly
natural thing if she had died of a broken heart, and been borne away to
lie in my father's grave.
"But she had reasons for living. Her children bound her to earth, and
for our sakes she toiled on with unswerving devotion and
unintermitting care. After a time the waters found a smoother channel,
so far as this world's troubles were concerned, and her days were ended,
in her eighty-fifth year, in comparative peace."
"During one of my Motor Campaigns to Nottingham," The General

wrote on another occasion, "my car took me over the Trent, the dear
old river along whose banks I used to wander in my boyhood days,
sometimes poring over Young's _Night Thoughts_, reading Henry
Kirke White's _Poems_, or, as was frequently the case before my
conversion, with a fishing-rod in my hand.