I have no information on the point, but I should be surprised to learn that General Booth, when Providence moved him to begin his labours among the poor, had even an inkling of their future growth within the short period of his own life.  He sowed a seed in faith and hope, and, in spite of opposition and poverty, in spite of ridicule and of slander, he has lived to see that seed ripen into a marvellous harvest.  Directly, or indirectly, hundreds of thousands of men and women throughout the world have benefited by his efforts.  He has been a tool of destiny, like Mahomet or Napoleon, only in this case one fated to help and not to harm mankind.  Such, at least, is my estimate of him.

A little less of the spirit of self-sacrifice, a different sense of responsibility, and the same strength of imagination and power of purpose devoted to purely material objects, might have raised up another multi-millionaire, or a mob-leader, or a self-seeking despot.  But, as it happened, some grace was given to him, and the river has run another way.

Opportunity, too, has played into his hands.  He saw that the recognized and established Creeds scarcely touched the great, sordid, lustful, drink-sodden, poverty-steeped masses of the city populations of the world:  that they were waiting for a teacher who could speak to them in a tongue they understood.  He spoke, and some of them have listened:  only a fraction it is true, but still some.  More, as it chanced, he married a wife who entered into his thoughts, and was able to help to fulfil his aspirations, and from that union were born descendants who, for the most part, are fitted to carry on his labours.

Further, like Loyola, and others, he has the power of rule, being a born leader of men, so that thousands obey his word without question in every corner of the earth, although some of these have never seen his face.  Lastly, Nature endowed him with a striking presence that appeals to the popular mind, with a considerable gift of speech, with great physical strength and abounding energy, qualities which have enabled him to toil without ceasing and to travel far and wide.  Thus it comes about that as truly as any man of our generation, when his hour is ended, he, too, I believe, should be able to say with a clear conscience, ‘I have finished the work that Thou gavest me to do’:  although his heart may add, ’I have not finished it as well as I could wish.’

Now let me try to convey my personal impressions of this man.  I see him in various conversations with myself, when he has thought that he could make use of me to serve his ever-present and impersonal ends, trying to add me up, wondering how far I was sincere, and to what extent I might be influenced by private objects; then, at last, concluding that I was honest in my own fashion, opening his heart little by little, and finally appealing to me to aid him in his labours.

‘I like that man; he understands me!’ I once heard him say, mentioning my name, and believing that he was thinking, not speaking.