More Summer Reading

I love books. I am one of those people that even love the smell of old books. Some of you can relate. I am sorry for those of you who can’t. To me, reading is language and language is life.

It’s summer and one of the best things is that I get to do what some might call ‘recreational reading’. Most all the reading I do is ‘study’ type reading, but there is nothing quite as refreshing for my spirit as getting lost in a great novel when I have those rather precious opportunities to do so. I love biographies as well, and autobiographies in particular charm me most. I especially like older autobiographies and I collect them when I have a chance to.

As I stood before one of the shelving units in my library this past week, being on a week’s vacation, my eyes came to rest on an old copy I picked up somewhere entitled ‘My Pilgrimage: An Autobiography by F. W. Boreham’ written in 1940. I decided immediately that this would be my choice to indulge myself in for this week and what a treasure it turns out to be. I had never heard of Frank Boreham before, but am quite surprised of that fact now that I have become familiar with the man. He was a very well known preacher in his day and prized to this day as a writer. He wrote more than fifty books in his lifetime, but thousands of essays. Dr Andrew Corbett refers to F. W. Boreham as ‘the greatest Christian essayist ever’. According to Corbett, Boreham is also the ‘best selling Australian author of all time’. Today his books are collector's items. I checked Amazon and there is a hard covered copy such as mine for sale for $184, though my cover is not in the best shape. Mine has ‘Most gratefully yours, F. W. Boreham” scripted by hand on the inner cover though, so I don’t know what that would do to its value? I don’t much care either as I have no intention of selling it anyway.

It’s all so very fascinating to read his life story told in his own words. Frank William Boreham was born in 1871. That means that he grew up without things like telephones and automobiles. He was born in Kent England, came of age in London, England, but soon after moved to New Zealand to become a pastor there. He pastored in New Zealand, then Tasmania and then in Australia. He died the year of my birth (1959). Now of course, this is 2012 and some enthusiasts have not only set up a blog page but even a Facebook page devoted to his life and his writings. Wouldn’t old Frank have been amazed by that! 

I’m actually less than half way through the book presently, but enjoying it immensely. As a boy he witnessed the establishing of the Salvation Army and the preaching of Moody and Spurgeon. As a young man living in London, he experienced the YMCA when it really was the YMCA. He sat under the teachings of men the likes of F. B. Meyer and had numerous conversations with men like Hudson Taylor. I know that these names might not mean much to some who read these words but if you have ever read any of these men’s writings or know of their great works you may have an appreciation for the immense privilege it is to read these words written a lifetime ago. I’m so looking forward to the last half …