William and Catherine Booth( Salvation army Founders) – Love letters

Just 3 out of the very many letters exchanged between William and Catherine Booth (Salvation Army founders) before they were married in 1955. (What is romance without love letters. lol!) ‘Casablanca’ and ‘gone with the wind’ and ‘the notebook’ were great love stories, but they don’t come close.  Who says God is not romantic.

 

FROM CATHERINE TO WILLIAM:

Wednesday evening, June, ’53.

MY OWN DEAR LOVE–Oh how I should like to see you tonight and hear you speak to me in tones of sweet affection and encouragement. You will be sorry to hear that I have felt very low to-day and yesterday; the principal cause of this depression is a deep and painful sense of my own unfitness to enter upon the duties and responsibilities of life; I feel my weakness and deficiencies most bitterly, and have shed some bitter tears because of it. I have confidence in you as to battling with the trials of life, or I think I should sink into despair, for I feel I am not fit for the world; but you will be my defence and shield, my prop and succour, will you not, deerest? You will bear with my weaknesses and faults, hush my fears, strengthen my hopes and efforts, and try to enter into the indefinable emotions of my sensitive heart. I shall at least have one being in the world able to sympathize with my soul’s feelings and to understand the peculiarities of my mind and heart. Oh how sweet! and that being holding the most endearing of relationships, bound to me by the tenderest ties; bless you, I think I need not fear the depth of your sympathy, the strength or durability of your affection; if I did fear either I should be most unhappy, but I do not; I believe you capable of more than I once did; I think we shall be one in heart and soul, and oh this is everything; in body we shall have continually and painfully to part, but in spirit we may always be united.

I think a great deal about your being out so much, I do hope your present unsettled and whirlabout life will not beget a distaste for pure domestic home bliss, and oh I do trust, that before we have a home Providence will make it possible for you to be more in it. Bless you, I feel indescribable things to-night, my soul is so full I cannot write at all collectedly. Oh, if I could but pour it into your ear; it does seem hard just now to be parted. I feel as though I could fly to you, my whole soul is drawn towards you, if I could explain what I feel, and how I feel, and why I feel, and all I feel, I am sure you would sympathize with me and clasp me more tenderly to your heart than ever you did before. I say this because I know, that although perhaps I feel too deeply, and too keenly, yet the class of feelings and their causes and objects are pleasing to God, they are not selfish but purest benevolence, but oh, they are painful in the extreme.

Pray for me. I will not write thus, perhaps it grieves you, though I hope not. Do not call it sentimentalism, dearest, it is the only reality of life; what are all the so-called reaiities of this world when compared with one pure affection, one refined emotion of one human soul? Their reality fades like the bubble on the wave; soul, and spiritual things are the only realities we have to do with, and all relating to them are to us of paramount importance. Let us estimate everything according to its influence on each other’s mind and heart; to inflict bodily suffering were a kindness compared with distress of mind and those who can feel deepest themselves will be most chary of the feelings of those they love. May the Lord give us grace to study each other, and love as He has enjoined. I often wonder whether others feel on these subjects as I do; if they did, surely there would be more happy unions. I scarce ever realize the happiness, for thinking of the duties and responsibilities of married life; I am so anxious to be a good wife and mother, and cannot think of the joy of being either. Never mind, dearest, my heart will not be the less sensible of the joy when it comes, and perhaps better prepared for it. Oh for grace to do my duty to you in all respects, and to those whom God may give us, and to the Church, and to the world, and to myself, and thus doing it in all the relations of life to serve my God in serving His chosen ones, the service He Himself has required.

Monday night, June, ’53.

MY OWN DEAR WILLIAM–How I should like to see you tonight and tell you lots of feelings, thoughts, hopes, and fears which would take too much time and patience to write; patience is a thing I am very deficient in. Oh for more of it. I have felt exceedingly irritable to-day, the music has tried me almost beyond endurance. I could freely abandon it and never touch it more. I fear the result will never repay the time and labour. Once to-day I raised my eyes from the music and through some bitter tears looked at your likeness, and said to myself, “William, I do this for thee.” Yes, all the other motives would fail to urge me forward; for no other being could I endure the drudgery, but you like it, it will make home a happier place to you, it will help to raise our souls to heaven, so I will persevere in my arduous undertaking; it is an arduous one, everybody considers it so. Miss . . . never knew any one begin to learn after they were grown up, but I will for your dear sake go on. Measure my love for you by this standard; think of three and four hours a day, self-denying toil, especially trying to one whose nerves have been shattered and whose powers of application and endurance weakened by long and wearing pain, and then say whether the love that prompts it is a trifle; but I know you estimate my affection. I am quite happy on that subject now. Bless you.

I do hope we shall be dear to each other as the apple of an eye. If I thought that you soberly think what you say about my having no faults and infirmities to bear with, I should indeed be unhappy, and begin to think I had unintentionally given you a false view of my character. Believe me, dearest (and I know myself better than any one else knows me), I have as many as will require a great deal of grace, deep affection and much patience to endure, so set about cultivating these virtues as quickly and effectually as possible.

Tuesday afternoon.–Thank you, darling, for the kind words contained in yours this morning; I had been thinking that I had written too passionately last night and that I ought to restrain the tide of feeling more than I do in writing to you; but no, now you write so affectionately I will let it root on and push out, just as it will, without seeking to cool or restrain it, so that you may know of what I am made. Bless you, you have no reason to fear about true conjugal bliss if your love is only deep and fervent; I think I have a soul capable of enjoying and yielding as much as most; but remember I have its almost invariable failings, capable of deepest feeling on one subject as well as another, therefore liable to anger as well as love. But I told you enough of this last night, and though I have no new thoughts to send you I am going to post this to-day, because I think perhaps you would feel disappointed on Wednesday morning if there was no letter, and perhaps anxious about the fate of your Saturday’s note.

FROM WILLIAM TO CATHERINE:

 

MY DEAR FRIEND–I promised you a line. I write. I know no more than I knew yesterday. I offered as you know full well then and there to make the engagement. You declined on what without doubt are good grounds, but still I cannot do more. You know the inmost feelings of my heart, and I can say no more than I have not, as I could have wished, seen anything striking to intimate the will of God. If my circumstances had not been so benighted I might not have desired this, but I feel the importance of the affair, if I feel nothing else.

Now understand me. As I said yesterday, I offer now a step in the dark. I will promise you anything you wish for your own dear sake, but mind, my feelings are still the same. But the tie shall be as sacred as though made under the influence of sunnier feelings and in prospect of brighter days. You can write me your mind. I do not wish to trouble you for a long letter. Put down in a line what you think. If you decline as yesterday, I ask the favour of being allowed to keep as secret as my Bible and as full to me of inspiration, and as sacred as my soul’s inmost feelings, the notes I already have in your writing. As you wish you can keep or burn mine. I could almost trust you with the keeping of the Title Deeds of my soul’s salvation, so highly do I esteem your character. Perhaps I write wildly. Excuse me. I began calm.

After this is ended, this awful controversy, I shall call on you again. If you accept what I have stated, I will come Saturday. If not, I shall call as a friend in the course of a few days and show you how I bear the matter. If it be of man, if it be wrong, it will pass forgotten away. If it be of God He will still bring it to pass.

All I fear is your suffering and your mother’s condemnation. But I cannot help it. Believe every word I have here said. If you accept, we are henceforth and for ever one. If you decline, the matter must be forgotten. I leave you in the hands of my God.–I am, Yours, etc., WILLIAM BOOTH Miss C. Mumford.

.

WALWORTH.

(Undated.)

MY DEAR FRIEND–You may perhaps deem me to be taking another step in the wrong direction, but I must, after the very abrupt manner in which we parted last evening, say a word. I believe that you think me sincere, and I have only one fear, that is, that you will make yourself ill. If you do, and I hear of it, it will drive me into delirium. My mind is made up. My hopes are set on things below of the same nature as things above. My heart prays that His will may be done on earth as it is done in Heaven ….

[This is the "controversy" referred to in the previous chapter, as to whether the lovers should make a regular engagement or turn their affection into a Platonic friendship.]

How clear and distinct in answer to prayer did God make the path of Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher. With them it was not the impulse of passion, but the clear unmistakable teaching of Providence. I would that it should be so in our experience. Be assured that your reasoning on the subject is not forgotten. I remember your every word. But hear me again and I will be silent.

1. Such a matter never could be arranged without in some way transpiring, which would, I conceive, injure my usefulness.

2. It never could be without inducing me to occupy time, every moment of which ought to be taken up with study.

3. I have no present probability of making my circumstances such that I can ask you to share my home.

4. I should feel such a powerful earthly bond taking up my feelings and drawing off my heart from entire and complete devotion to God.

5. God has of late been satisfying me with Himself, and I should fear setting up or creating another god, especially seeing that He has placed me in a position that my heart has so long desired and given me every comfort I wish.

6. Moreover, when I ponder over the salvation He has been working out for me, saving me from peculiar temptations to which I have been prone–and the darkness that hangs around me, etc., I feel an involuntary shudder creep over me at the thought of an engagement ….

I need not say the high place your character and disposition have in my esteem. I need not say how I regret, for your sake, that I ever set foot in your home. I need not say that the high estimation your mother has for you led her, I conceive, to take a prejudicial view of my conduct and to make remarks which were unmerited and unjust, and calculated to wrong my soul.

But it is over now. I am resigned to the will of God. I shall endeavour to pursue the path of duty ….

In the meantime, let us give ourselves to God, fix our affections all on Christ, and seek to do His will. Your kindness to me I need not refer to. I have indeed been grateful for it, and felt indeed how undeserved it was.

May God bless and prosper you temporally and spiritually, and may He make His will known and evident so that you may see it and understand it. Whatever you do, try to save men, to bless the world, and to preach Christ. With many prayers,–I remain, your sincere and affectionate friend,

WILLIAM BOOTH.

WALFORD.

MY DEAR FRIEND–Yours has just come to hand. My mother’s note preceded it, imploring me to do nothing rashly, fearing my accustomed impetuosity, my feeling gaining the mastery over the calm teaching of reason; as a matter of course, she is aware that she cannot further than this advise me, not knowing you personally; she assures me that she has laid the matter before God as requested, and that the only impression on her mind in answer to such a prayer is, that ere such an important step be taken I should consider long, reminding me in conclusion that once a long time back she spoke wisely to me on the same subject, but at the same time declaring that she will acquiesce in any decision at which I may arrive; this is all I could possibly expect, all I desire at her hands ….

I need not recapitulate my doubts, only that every day seems to blacken them and make them more worthy of consideration; I need not say here how highly I judge of you and how high in my estimation your virtuous soul I rank; I need not say that I have deemed and still do deem every, even the minutest, of your actions and words spotless and without blemish, that is, in my eyes; I need not tell you that I mean Christ and a union in Heaven, and that my resolutions are unbroken to live and live only for the salvation of souls and the glory of God; I need not urge you to a more earnest searching out for the beauties and loveliness of the character of Jesus; I need not exhort you to entire consecration to His service and His constant hallowed communion; I would to God that my intercourse with Him was as perfect and my resemblance to His image was as divine as your own. I will to-day more earnestly than ever pray that you may find your all in all in Him. I say nothing decisive because I know nothing; I have neither advanced nor retrograded from the position I occupied when last we met.

I intend, all well, visiting near Binfield this afternoon. Mr. Nye preaches there, I understand, to-night. I shall not be there, or else I might, I suppose, have had the pleasure of shaking hands with you. But we have a committee at Walworth. I trust you will have a good night’s rest; I am grieved to hear that you are poorly. My health is good, tolerably so. I bore the fatigue of Sunday quite as well as I could have expected.

With my love to your dear mother–that is, if you communicate this letter; I do not see why you should not,–I remain, affectionately yours in the Love of the risen, interceding, atoning, sacrificial, ever-prevailing Lamb of God,

WILLIAM BOOTH.

MY OWN DEAR KATE–With feelings of very great pleasure I snatch up my pen to write you a line–bless you, I would that I could see you and that I could rest me for a season by your side and tell you all my heart. I think much about you; your eye is ever looking down upon me and beaming into my inmost soul. You are mine and you have my heart, and surely all this ought to constitute rich enjoyment for us both; but I have ever missed the present happiness in seeking and grasping the future.

I want you, your company, your comforting and consoling converse. I want you to hear me, to criticize me, to urge me on. I feel such a desperate sense of loneliness, so oppressive to my spirit. I speak and preach and act, and it is passed over; there is no one with whom I can talk over my perormance; to others I cannot mention it for fear of being thought egotistic or seeking for praise, and for some reasons others say little or nothing of it to me; I hear only of it by hints and innuendoes. I want you, too, to help you, to make you happy, to bring you flowers, to show you my friends, for you to enjoy the sunshine with me and the landscape, and the Sabbath and sweet days; bless you, I was never made to enjoy anything alone. Oh that we could meet only for a time–but we must wait. I shall not write again until after Quarter Day, which is on Monday. Thursday is Spalding Union School-Feast. A great day here. I would that you were going to be here. The children of all the dissenting schools meet in the Baptist Chapel, where an address is delivered; they then walk to fields, where large tents, etc., are erected; they have their plum-pudding and beef, and afterwards play, etc.; then comes the tea and public meeting; the shops close and the whole town and country for miles round turns out, and thus give a public verdict in favour of Sabbath schools.

I spoke at St. Catherine’s School-Feast, although the morning was wet and cloudy. The meeting was a triumphant one, Mr. Shadford in the chair. 150 took tea, besides the children, the people came through rain for miles. After tea, the speaking. Mr. Ryecroft spoke well; he has a delightful way of speaking. I followed him, and succeeded to my satisfaction. Here is the outline of my speech. Introduced by the anecdote of Galileo, who when tortured by the Inquisition for declaring that the world goes round, denied it when on the rack, but when set at liberty, stamped with his foot and said, It does go round, it does move. Well, 1st, that the world moves, progress the sign of the times, 1st on its physical surface–Agriculture, produce, flowers, animals, all improving Arts and Sciences. Stagecoaches gone–now the age of engines, telegraphs, etc. It moves, –morally, socially, and politically. Benevolent Institutions are rapidly rising, although the Pope is still in Rome and Napoleon 3rd in Paris and the slave-driver still cracks his infernal whip, yet liberty is abroad, men are thinking. Hungarian mother is instilling into her babe’s mind hatred to Austria, etc., etc. Uncle Tom has been written and is being read everywhere, and though they, the tyrants of the earth, are shutting off the steam and fastening down the escape-valve and sitting on it to keep it down, yet the boiler may, nay will, burst and they will be caught up to meet one another in the air! You remember the last idea is stolen from Uncle Tom. The world moves. Spiritually, men are marching, etc. The Italians are calling for Bibles. A revolution fraught with the most glorious prospects to Christianity is proceeding in China, etc., etc.

2nd proposition. That all progress past, present, and future–the result of education. Men have educated, cultivated the land, the wheat, the flower, the animals–men have educated brass, iron, steel, etc., until they have made engines to grind, to carry, to draw, etc., etc. Mind has been educated, or we should have been Druids at this day, etc., etc.

Spiritually likewise–Martyrs, etc. Are we to stay here? No, a thousand angel forms are beckoning us onwards. Our work, the regeneration of our world, and therefore the world must be educated. And to be educated the world must have a teacher; who is it to be?

3rd proposition. Is England, the Anglo-Saxon mind, the schoolmaster for the world, for this adapted? I embrace all who are English, America of course to some extent. She has lessons of freedom to teach the slave-driver; of the Kingship of Christ and the supremacy of the Bible to teach Popes, priests, and Cardinals; of political liberty to teach the spoilers of Hungary and Poland and Italy; lessons of the cross of salvation by faith in Christ alone to teach Universal Man.

For this work England adapted by her power, her fame, and her commercial relations, and to thoroughly qualify her she must be thoroughly educated. Not merely mentally, not merely morally, but religiously educated; and she cannot be religiously educated but by the instrumentality of Sunday Schools, etc. But I am filling up my letter with what will interest you little however, it went well. That is, as I thought.

I do hope you understood me to say in my last, bless you, that should I find in you any irritability more than I have discovered as yet, that I will bear with it and love you none the less; bless you; do not say any more on such subjects. I am more than ever satisfied with you–mentally, morally, and spiritually. Oh it is that I am irritable and will want bearing with, but, bless you, I will be all, all, all, all you wish. Bless you, I love you dearly. My soul loves you. Cling to the music. Music, oh it will move me to almost anything. It can either calm or arouse me. You shall have all my temporal endowments can procure to make you happy.

 I love a good ,pure, guileless love story!