LIFE IN MELBOURNE.
The Carrs were formally welcomed to Melbourne, the evening of the day on
which they landed, by a church tea meeting. We shall speak of it in
detail, that a general notion may be gleaned of this popular Australian
church social.
"Tea on the Tables at Half-past Six," is the way the invitation-cards
read. We assemble in the basement. There are four tables, running the
entire length of the Chapel (we are not to say "church" when speaking of
a house.) Not alone is tea "on the tables." Here we find a bountiful
repast, garnished forth with beautiful flowers fresh from our gardens.
After tea, we present the flowers to our guests of honor. By eight
o'clock we have eaten, shaken hands, talked informally with every one,
and are ready to adjourn to the auditorium. Here we listen to the
Chairman's address, and the addresses of five others, including O. A.
Carr and G. L. Surber. The congregation sings three hymns, the Singing
Class renders another; we have, also, two anthems, and, after the
benediction, feel that we have been to a Tea Meeting, indeed.
A few years ago, the Cause in Australia was very weak. Now the pressing
need is laborers. The Melbourne Church is strong enough to divide;
Surber will preach at the Chapel; a hall will be rented for $400 in
gold, in which O. A. Carr will preach; thus forming a nucleus in two
remote points in the great city. The speakers at the tea meeting are
strong in their faith, and with good reason. Last year the church gave
for home and foreign missions, and local expenses, $4000 in gold.
We have never had any trouble with expenses, because each of us does
something--each one! that is our secret of success. Far away in
Adelaide, Gore and Earl are laboring; here in Melbourne, Carr and
Surber--four evangelists for Australia. But, as we shall see, all the
preaching is not done by the evangelists. And what of Mrs. Carr? At this
very first tea meeting we speak of a school for Sister Carr. "We expect
in a few months to see her devoting all her time to the high calling of
teaching."
Thus the new work is inaugurated. Not for the writer is the labor of
seeking lodgings, or a house which will serve also as a school; not for
the reader the weary days of forming an establishment, of settling down
to the necessary routine of daily living, of forming grooves in which
one may run automatically, the better to give the mind to higher things
than food and a roof.
We are in a land where all is strange and new; but when we leave it, all
shall have become familiar, and much of it dear. The reader need but
glance along the peaks that rise out of the level plain of daily
experiences--one tea meeting for him, to fifty for the Carrs; a few
characters to be learned from among the thousands who cross the paths of
the young missionaries.
One might crowd a large book with the people who come and go, never to
return, people important in their own orbits, no doubt, but quite futile
to ours. Happy would it be for us and ours, if all the time we scatter
among the moving multitudes of life, we might concentrate upon the few
who are to abide in our hearts and memory. But that is not to be while
life is life; however, it may be reasonably accomplished in book-land.
So, of these hundreds and hundreds of letters before me, whose
signatures are but the labels of so many shadows--impersonal spirits who
did nothing but write and vanish--we can select only those of a few men
who seem to breathe the same air that envelops our principal characters.
Such a breathing reality appears in John Augustus Williams, so real in
his profound faith in the dignity of teaching, that the chalk-dust seems
to swing above his head as a sort of material halo.
To him we find Mrs. Carr writing: "We reached Melbourne in early
September, after a long voyage of 104 days! Contrary winds kept us in
the Irish Channel a fortnight; but we kept our spirits up, resolved to
be content-subjects of the winds. We drifted within sight of the South
American shores. We sailed many miles along the mango and palm-wreathed
coast of Brazil. We are well and ready for work. Brother Surber was very
happy to see us, and the church gave us a most cordial greeting. I will
write brother Joe a description of the voyage; you can exchange letters
with him. I enclose a little flower and leaf of woodruff. I plucked it
at the foot of the south tower of the royal entrance to Canarvon
Castle, on Menia Straits, opposite Anglesey. In that castle, the first
prince of Wales was born, April 25, 1284."
T. J. Gore writes to the newcomers from Adelaide, South Australia: "I am
aware of your arrival in Melbourne. You do not know how I long to see
you both--you come from old Kentucky--may Heaven's richest blessings
rest upon that dear state! It is hard to realize that here so near, are
two live Kentuckians from my far-away home. You will find conditions and
customs very different here from America; but it is the Lord's harvest;
moreover, Melbourne contains a great many Americans; here in Adelaide,
my eyes are hardly ever blessed by the sight of one, but I console
myself with the thought that though I am far from my native land I am
still in the Kingdom of the Lord. No doubt you and Surber are now
talking over days of long ago, at Kentucky University.
"Brother Carr! how I should love to fold you to my heart! Tell Sister
Carr she need not fear the hot winds; they are quite harmless. Brother
Earl preaches to big audiences Sunday evening at White's Assembly room;
he has not found a church yet. Tell Sister Carr she deserves great
credit for leaving her home, and coming so far, all for the sake of His
Word. My thoughts go to Keith in Louisville, and Albert Myles in
Cincinnati. I wish we had an evangelist in New Zealand. Write me
something for the _Pioneer_" (which he is editing). "Brother Santo
wishes you both much happiness and great success." (Gore has found a
sweetheart,--"Brother Santo's" daughter; which gives him a firmer
position from which to protest against homesickness.)
At the conclusion of the first sermon preached by O. A. Carr in
Australia, two made the good confession. During his ministry in the
colonies, he found conversions the rule, while the exception became
rarer and rarer, of preaching without visible results. He had not found
a house to rent when a letter was received from one who was to take an
interesting part in his life--Thomas Magarey, an Englishman, who had
settled in Southern Australia:
"Now that you are enjoying a little relaxation from the call of visitors
upon your arrival, I may venture an epistle of congratulation upon your
safe arrival. May you and Sister Carr be spared to present the old and
glorious Gospel. I read your article in the _Review_, and laughed at the
alarm of the church at Birmingham, lest any one should 'drop a penny
in their collection.' We have very little cause for alarm upon that
score, here in South Australia. I have heard that you both are suffering
from homesickness. I had that complaint for about twenty years.
"Unfortunately, every one in Australia has suffered from it more or less
and, like seasickness, it meets with no sympathy. I never could
understand why the most disheartening of complaints should receive no
commiseration, but so it is. I cannot think your disease very violent,
for the best authorities say, those love home best who have least reason
to do so. Thus the Irishman suffers more from leaving his land of
potatoes than the Englishman his beef and plum pudding. I need not tell
you that the best remedy is constant employment. This is not our
home--we are all pilgrims and strangers. My son, just now, was
instructing his little brothers and sisters upon Astronomy. I heard him
say that from Jupiter, this earth of ours could not be seen. Humiliating
thought!"
[Illustration: Fern Brake, Near Melbourne]
[Illustration: Fern Tree Gully]
[Illustration: Australian Home--Martin Zelius]
[Illustration: Prince's Bridge, Melbourne]
The man who writes thus abruptly, treading upon the tender
susceptibilities of Kentucky pilgrims, calls for more than passing
mention. When hundreds flocked to the Australian gold fields, Thomas
Magarey established a mill, and sold flour to the prospectors. Gold was
found in abundance, and easily parted with; but while others dug it from
the earth, Magarey ground his meal and watched the yellow tide as it
came his way. "Twenty years of homesickness," on his part, was well
rewarded. He owned a palatial home in South Australia, was immensely
wealthy, and was a Member of Parliament.
His religious life was diverted into its present channel by reading
articles by Alexander Campbell and Walter Scott in the _Christian
Baptist_. His brother, some time before the coming of the Carrs to
Australia, perished in a fire at sea. Thomas took his brother's family
into his own home, where all live as one. His sheep ranch, his cattle,
his horses, his milling business, his civic affairs, occupied the
greater part of the day, but his evenings were spent with his wife and
children.
On Sundays two carriages took them to church in the morning, to
Sunday-school in the afternoon, to preaching at night. At the Governor's
receptions, the jewels of the Magareys flashed with the costliest; at
church, their garments were as simple as the simplest. And if there was
no preacher, as indeed was usually the case in this land where
preachers were so scarce, Thomas Magarey addressed the congregation,
after the Australian manner.
The better to understand this manner, let us return to the Carrs, and
take a brief view of their religious life. As we have seen, the preacher
delivered a sermon only on Sunday nights. The primary object of the
Sunday morning service was the observance of the Lord's Supper. For the
Church of Christ, in its desire to do just as the Christians did in
Apostolic times, met on the first day of the week to break bread, not
"to keep the Sabbath day holy", which they said had been done away, with
the old dispensation, but to celebrate the resurrection of Christ.
Besides the communion service on Sunday morning, there would be
exhortations to religious life by laymen, who had been appointed a month
in advance. These men took pride in preparing brief addresses which they
hoped might prove edifying; and so general was the custom, that if the
minister failed to be present, his absence was unfelt. Such a custom
tended to build up a permanent and fervid religious sentiment in the
very heart of the congregation--a speaking Christianity which business
men carried during the week into their shops and offices.
The congregation would assemble promptly in the morning, and, a minute
or two before eleven o'clock, would sit with bowed heads. Exactly at
eleven, all would rise to their feet, and lift up some familiar hymn
such as "Safely through another week, God has brought us on our way."
Among the five hundred there were not a dozen silent mouths. Following
the hymn, a chapter would be read from the Old Testament, another from
the New. A third layman would announce a hymn, usually reading it; a
fourth would lead in prayer. Still another would preside at the table,
to be followed by those appointed for short addresses.
The congregation preferred to take business affairs from their own
number, rather than from the minister. As an example--One morning a man
rose and said: "Since I have been hearing Brother Carr preach, my Bible
has become a new Bible. I never understood it till now. But there is one
subject Brother Carr has omitted--the duty and privilege of financially
supporting the preacher." Having delivered himself upon this neglected
theme, the man concluded: "You know me and my circumstances. I am a
shipwright. I will give half a crown a week. My wife will do the same.
There are many present who can do as well. Now, will you do it?" And the
audience rose and said, "We will do it!"
Before a house had been selected for the missionaries, Mrs. Carr went on
a visit to some new-found friends; as a result we have a series of
letters between her and Mr. Carr; we trust our extracts from them will
be both judicious and interesting.
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "If my writing proves obscure, remember I'm an
obscure person in this country. Brother Magarey left for Ballarat. We
all went with him to the depot. Alex. and Vaney" (Magarey's sons) "could
hardly keep from crying when they saw their father leave." (Alex. and
Vaney are to board with the Carrs in order to finish the course at the
University of Melbourne.) "I went to look at that house in Clarendon
Terrace, but behold, it was let when I got there! However, the owner
said he wouldn't have been willing to have you teach a school in it; and
besides, it would have been too far out for the boys (Alex. and Vaney)
to walk. There will be plenty of houses to rent when the people go to
the seaside for the summer." (By which we mean December).
"We must wait a little longer and be satisfied. I trust in God. We are
to do a great work here, if we will be humble and abide the Lord's will.
One confession at chapel, today, five at the hall. There are very large
audiences. Your class did well. They seemed much disappointed in not
seeing you, but they didn't come right out and say they preferred you as
their teacher--mighty smart girls! Brother Zelius says I must remember
him to you." ("Brother Zelius'" was the first house the Carrs entered on
landing at Melbourne; it was he who had sent O. A. Carr the money to
come from America. Years before, Zelius had stood penniless, save for
one shilling, and entirely unknown, in the streets of Melbourne; but he
had done well since he heard and accepted the doctrine as presented by
the Christians, and it was natural that he should have a proprietary
interest in his missionaries.)[8]
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "We reached Nutcundria last evening in safety. The
day is intensely hot" (November 29). "I do not believe I could ever love
the Australian climate. Give me the sunny and starlit skies, the balmy
breezes, the snows and winter winds of old Kentucky! There is abundance
of ripe fruit here. Couldn't you come for me next week? The trip can be
made in a day. I shall never regret placing my heart in your keeping;
for every day, I see a new light shining in your character."
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "Joy came this morning in the shape of a letter
apiece; yours from brother Joe, which, I see, came by way of Panama.
Mine is from sister Minnie--her news has touched and thrilled my inmost
soul: Jimmie has obeyed the Gospel; and dear old father, working hard
all day, and going to prayer-meeting at night! Poor mother! I wish it
were so that she could attend oftener. Vaney, Alex. and I were at the
hall last night. Alex. announced the hymns for me. Vaney says they would
take me for a Catholic priest if it were not for my whiskers. Vaney is
always cutting at me--we have a good deal of fun as we go along. Say! I
would like to see you monstrous well! If you stay up there much longer
please send me a lock of your hair! I have a house in view--3 stories, 8
good rooms, just behind Fitzroy Garden, near corner of Clarendon and
George streets, price 130 pounds. All rates paid. This house is
beautifully situated; from it you can view the Botanical Garden, the
Bay, Emerald Hill, etc., but it is a long walk from chapel. I have spent
about 3 hours in preparing a lecture for the class, tonight" (we will
hear more about that class a little later.)
Mr. Carr again: "Two confessions at chapel, 3 at the hall. The work is
going gloriously on. I baptized 10 Friday night. I am very busy. There
is great excitement. The Rev. Mr. Ballantyne has issued a tract on
baptism. The brethren want me to reply as soon as possible, (presenting
arguments for immersion). I ought to get out the tract in 10 days, so I
cannot come up for you. If Miss McIntyre will come down in coach with
you, I will take pleasure in helping her on the way to heaven; but I
cannot come next week. We have no house yet. Brother and Sister Zelius
send love."
Mrs. Carr, to Mr. Carr: "I walked out this evening to meet you, and was
disappointed. Soon after, I received your letter; of course I approve
your conscientious course of conduct. I do not ask your _best_ love,
Ollie, that belongs to God; I ask only its reflex. Your fealty to our
Savior is the foundation-stone upon which my affection is built, sure
and firm. How strong is my faith that that foundation-stone will ever
stand! Next to my faith in Jesus, it brings me the sweetest consolation.
I loved you better than my brother, for I left him to follow you; but I
am learning more and more each day, how much better. God knows how my
heart yearns toward my dear brothers and sisters; but you are dearer to
me, Ollie, than all the world beside. In reply to Mr. Ballantyne,
studiously avoid all offense; that which offends will never convince.
May God bless your efforts for the promulgation of the Truth."[9]
[Illustration: Government Building, Melbourne]
[Illustration: "Take a Look at Diana and the Stag"]
[Illustration: Favorite Walk Toward Barclay Terrace]
"Last Friday morning we started to the Spur, an offshoot of the
Dandenon. The scenery along its sides and summit, is the most beautiful
in Victoria. The gorges filled with enormous pines, stately grottos, and
gums, and peppermints, are a rich feast to the aesthetic nature--but I
saw nothing that so stirred the depths of my soul, as the dreamy hills
in autumn along the magnificent Ohio. About 40 miles below the Spur we
found good accommodations at Heyfield, which we enjoyed after the long
jolting ride.
"We rose at five the next morning to visit the Falls on the Thompson.
Their beauty fully paid us for our mile's walk--it seemed three to me.
The Falls are magnificent, the lower plunging from 50 to 100 feet, the
highest from 200 feet. We made our way with considerable difficulty
along the whole face of the Falls. We had to cling to the saplings to
keep from rolling headlong into the river. I had a severe headache that
morning, and kept my hair hanging, and the bush was so very thick, I
wonder I did not share the fate of Absalom. I hope you will get us a
house as soon as possible; I am anxious to have a home of our own--if
that is possible in a foreign land. I hear that Mr. Surber is going to
New Zealand. May God bless you, my dear husband, that you may bring many
into the Kingdom."
Shortly after Mrs. Carr's return to her husband, they received another
letter from their fellow-countryman, T. J. Gore, who is still afraid
they may succumb to homesickness. The manner in which he argues against
such a feeling, is very philosophical: "Our home beyond the bright blue
sea is lovely; there a father and mother are longing to lay their arms
about our necks and say, 'Welcome home!' What a happy meeting that would
be!--but not to be compared to the welcome into everlasting arms.
Brother Carr, we are going home--we have already embarked--we _are_ on
the ship, the good old ship, and swiftly we are speeding over the waves
of life. We have met a few storms, but the Captain said, 'Peace be
still.' The barometer has been low, but He said, 'There's no danger in
this ark of safety!' God only lent us our little homes among the hills
of Kentucky; it is true they are dear to us; but in a few years He will
lend them to others of whom we know nothing."
A sentence farther on explains, perhaps, how the writer can be so calmly
philosophical: "You have, of course, heard that I am married. Mrs. Gore
begs to be remembered to you; we cannot be as strangers: You and Sister
Carr must come over (to Adelaide) to see us soon."
Letters from home may have accented the stress of home-longing, but
others came that gave heart for the long separation, such as the
following from Mrs. Drusie Ellis of Ghent, Ky.; "Last night, I heard of
your safe arrival in Australia. I loaned the paper containing your
letters to a friend. She brought it back with the remark that she could
scarcely keep from tears while reading it,--and, as I told Doctor,
'_Scarcely_ keep from crying, indeed!'--when I could not even _mention_
the subject in a steady voice! The thought of your wife so nobly giving
up home and country for the great work touches my heart deeply. I read
of her welcome with streaming tears, and determined to write this word
of Christian sympathy, hoping to add one little thrill of joy to hearts
so truly consecrated."
Mr. and Mrs. Carr decided to rent the house already mentioned, in
Barclay Terrace. It commanded an extensive view of Fitzroy Gardens,
through which they walked every day. The way into the heart of the city
led among its statues and greeneries. One might sink down to rest on the
benches beside the fountains, or loiter on the rustic bridges,--only,
alas! there was little time for loitering!--inhale the fragrance of the
perennial flowers, and take a look at Diana and the Stag before setting
forth for Chapel. From the bandstand ascended, "God save the Queen," to
the Southern Cross. Who shall say what element of charm did not steal
unconsciously from such beautiful surroundings into the hearts of the
missionaries?
We have said there was little time for loitering; the reader shall be
the judge. Two nights in the week were devoted to the prayer meetings of
the two churches; one night was devoted to those who came to Barclay
Terrace to inquire after the truth, or to learn Christian duty; a fourth
night every week was the lecture-night at the Collinwood Church--the
Church established by Mr. Carr; on Friday night there was a short sermon
and then the baptizing of those who had already inquired after the truth
and made the good confession, and who had been instructed as to the
purpose of baptism, and what would be expected of the subject as to
attendance at church, contributing, and the governing of one's
household.
As the weeks passed by, the history of the Friday nights presented the
appearance of continuous "protracted meeting." Rarely, if ever, did a
week pass without the application and acceptance of from one to twenty
members. Nor did those who joined the one body, the church, enter upon
the crest of an excitement-wave, or with a superficial notion of what it
meant to be a Christian. The following note will show that converts were
not to be obtained with undue haste:
"The following was passed at the Business Meeting of 23rd March, 1869:
'That this Meeting considers it inexpedient for our Evangelists to
invite public confessions, seeing they regard it desirable to have
conversation before baptism.'"
"CHURCH SECRETARY."
Besides the work already indicated, there was an "Improvement Class"
each week, composed of young members of the church, who read essays, and
made short talks, to be criticised by the minister. From this class were
selected those who addressed the congregation on Sunday morning. These
young men were closely bound by affection to their leader, Mr. Carr.
There was something perennially young in his own bosom, that responded
to their youth.
His health was delicate, as it had been in Lexington, and the
never-relaxing labors of every night in the week, might have made
another prematurely old and solemn. But his boarders, Alex. and Vaney
Magarey, could have told of many a time when he slipped to the attic
with them for a hasty game of marbles. Such innocent, though clandestine
sport, heartened him up, no doubt, to deal the more telling blows
against ecclesiastical foes. Who in reading his trenchant arguments on
the subject of Baptism, would have suspected that at that very moment
the marbles might be clinking in his pocket![10]
No wonder the young men felt his spirit akin to their own! After
prayer-meeting they would walk with him "part of the way,--" which
usually extended quite across the fifty acres of Fitzroy Gardens, and up
to his very door. And as they walked they talked, talked with all the
earnestness of youth, when youth is in earnest.
[Illustration: Waiting in Melbourne, alone Will go to Hobart]
One night when the conversation had become unusually absorbing they
stopped and, looking up, found they had halted before the Model School
Building,--which corresponds to an American college. The subject of
acquiring an education had often engaged them before, but now ideas came
to a focus.
"I have a calf, and some carpenter's tools," said one young man,
addressing Mr. Carr earnestly; "I will sell them, and buy clothes and
books if you will teach me."
Without hesitation the minister cried, "Come on."
"May we come too?" chorused the others.
"Yes!" Little did they realize how much that consent meant; how much of
energy, of which there was no surplus; how much of nerve-drain and
anxious thought. A number of young men decided to come to Barclay
Terrace every day. They came and Mr. Carr gave them the same course he
had taken at Kentucky University. This was, indeed, paying back to the
world with interest, the good that the world had bestowed! When Eneas
Myall carried to Carr's tavern the money that started Oliver Carr on his
road to the University, little did he dream of the beneficent influences
he was setting in motion on the other side of the globe! It is so with
every good deed. One never sows a word of love beneath the northern
skies, but he may find it blooming some day, beneath the Southern Cross.
Mr. Carr's boys had studied some--not much--at the public school. They
knew something of English grammar; he did not teach it to them; he
taught Greek grammar, and it is needless to say that they became good
grammarians. They read the New Testament in Greek. They were taught
rhetoric and logic from Mr. Carr's notes, taken at the University. Among
the class was that T. H. Rix, who is today a successful evangelist.
Another--he who sold his calf and tools to buy books,--stands today as
the best educated man in the Church of Christ, in Australia, next to T.
J. Gore. He is G. B. Moysey. Who will say he would better have kept his
calf?
Thus we find O. A. Carr becomes a schoolteacher, though his purposes
were all set otherwise. It seemed forced upon him by his consciousness
of the good he might do. We are to find the same thing occurring again
and again in his life. Duty seemed ever calling him to the desk when his
own heart yearned for the pulpit. As yet he was able--both to preach
and teach with all his might. Unfortunately that might was not based
upon physical resources.
On the other hand, Mrs. Carr must always teach, wherever she was,
because teaching was a part of her being. She had opened a class for
young ladies in her home. Her accommodations compelled her to limit the
number of pupils to about twenty; but, on account of this limitation,
she was enabled to select those girls who were most refined, and who
promised the best spiritual reward for her labors. This was her second
school; and while it was by no means so pretentious as her college at
Lancaster, the results were doubtless more far-reaching.
Her system of education,--indeed, her conception of education--differed
materially from that found in Melbourne. If her method seemed radical to
the most conservative, it filled with delight those open to impressions
of new truth. Mrs. Carr's scheme to educate a girl was not to fill her
with facts, but to develop her mind and heart. This has not always been
understood by those who patronized her various schools. The commonplace
test of "how much a pupil knows," did not always apply to her classes.
She took pains to teach them how to preserve their health, how to deport
themselves, how to preserve their modesty and integrity, how to become
forces in the world.
In a word, she did not labor to root in those tender minds a multitude
of facts which the passing of time sweeps away; it was her desire to
form of each impressionable girl, a noble woman.
It was her conviction that no higher work exists in the world than the
development of high ideals of womanhood. If she could have reached young
girls in any other way, in daily living, she could have dispensed
altogether with the school.
The school was but a means to the end of shaping lives. There were,
perhaps, girls in Melbourne at that time, who were learning more facts
than Mrs. Carr's girls were learning; who might, it may be, have
answered with greater exactitude if questioned as to the dimensions of
the planets' orbits, or as to the geological eons.
These things did not seem to her of supreme importance. What to her
mind, mattered, was to make world-blessings of her girls. This was so
deep a conviction of her soul, that she had little patience with
literalism.
It is necessary to understand her purpose, in order to comprehend the
relationship between her and her pupils. When Mrs. Carr found in any
girl those true and enduring qualities which, however much neglected,
promise a harvest of love, and gratitude, and noble deeds, and thoughts,
there were no pains too great for her to take, to develop that soul.
But when it was her lot to be thrown with a girl whose life-purposes
were all antagonistic to the sphere of the cultured woman--a girl who
suspected insincere motives, and watched for faults, and hardened
herself against sweet influences, Mrs. Carr felt that she could do more
good by giving her time to more susceptible spirits.
Thus it came about that the pupil who reached after the higher standards
of life, found Mrs. Carr a woman of motherly tenderness; while she who
drew back, found her cold and unsympathetic.
It is difficult to learn the real character of any teacher from her
pupils, unless we take into consideration the character and point of
view of those interrogated. The pupil in sympathy with the instructress
will praise her, one in rebellion will blame her. It seems necessary to
say this, because Mrs. Carr has often been misunderstood and
misrepresented. An obdurate and intractable pupil usually has a family
to espouse her view of the case; and the neighbors share the impression
of the family; and visiting guests share the opinions of the neighbors.
It is not always that the pupil wilfully misrepresents; indeed, in most
cases, she does not intentionally do so; but she cannot understand,
because her heart is not in accord. It would be a strange thing if any
teacher should be universally praised by her pupils, and the suspicion
would inevitably arise that she had not done her full duty.
On one point all of Mrs. Carr's pupils are agreed; that she was a
splendid disciplinarian. Whether you loved her or feared her, or
disliked her, she made you keep good order while under her instruction.
As to her success in school work at Melbourne, we shall content
ourselves with letting the consul speak a good word for her, then relate
a little incident.
Geo. R. Latham to Mrs. Carr: "Knowing the respectable character of the
colleges in the United States of which you are a graduate, and feeling a
lively appreciation of your thorough education, finished
accomplishments, and intellectual and moral worth, and learning that you
have opened a select school for young ladies in this city (Melbourne) I
most gladly consent to the use of my name as reference."
The terms per quarter for board and tuition were from L18-18-0 to
L10-10-0. Mrs. Carr taught the following: "English Literature,
Mathematics, Natural Science and all English branches usually taught,
Italian, French, German, Pianoforte, Guitar, Drawing and Painting,
Leather Work, Wax Flowers." She was the only teacher and, we may
conclude, had her hands full!
[Illustration: Port Elliott--Farthest Point South]
The anecdote we referred to, related to one of Mrs. Carr's pupils, Ettie
Santo. Her father, Philip Santo, lived in South Australia. He was a
member of Parliament;[11] and a rich iron monger. He dealt largely in
imported agricultural implements. He had the same love of family that
Thomas Magarey exhibited; every day at three he would go out to his
splendid residence in the suburbs, and play an hour with his children.
Then after exercising, he would go to the library. After tea he wrote
and read two hours, then assembled the family for Bible-reading and
prayer. Ettie boarded with Mrs. Carr. It was the first time she had
stayed away from home. She was a very quiet, undemonstrative girl. Her
father came to Melbourne to visit her. One day he showed Mrs. Carr a
letter he had received from his daughter before his arrival. In the
body of the letter was this sentence:
"Father, I love you; I have never told you so; I can write it better
than I can speak it."
This is narrated as an illustration of Mrs. Carr's educational ideas. To
bring love into being; or, as in the case of this noble-minded girl,
where love already existed, to give that love a voice--to teach faithful
service and strengthen holy aspirations, these were her imparted
lessons. The soul which could not receive them might be hardened against
her, but nevertheless she sowed the seed; with her, teaching was a
religious exercise.
At this busy time, while Mrs. Carr had her girls, and Mr. Carr his boys,
to say nothing of a thousand outside duties to be performed, a character
entered their lives like a good fairy. Janie Rainey was born and reared
in Scotland. Her sister married a "gentleman" that is to say, a man of
means, and for a time Janie lived with them. But it soon became borne in
upon her that her brother-in-law looked upon her as a burden to his
household. She knew a Presbyterian minister in Melbourne, who, in answer
to her letter, encouraged her to come to Australia, where she could find
plenty of work. She made the long voyage, and found asylum in his house,
until she should find regular employment.
One day she appeared at the house in Barclay Terrace. Beneath her
sunbonnet was to be seen a bright face, and shrewd yet kindly eyes. As
she sat in the hall in her plain but scrupulously neat dress, Mrs. Carr
was charmed by her Scotch accent, and by her manner of dignified
dependence. Janie explained that she had heard Mrs. Carr needed a
servant; she had come to keep the house for her, to wash, to cook, to
do anything. She was received with joy. As Mrs. Carr afterward said, "It
was love at first sight."
Before the Carrs came to Melbourne, Janie had gone to hear Mr. Surber
preach. "The first time I heard him," she said, "I knew it didn't sound
like the kirk! I could understand him; it was so _plain_!" When she had
heard him preach about half a dozen times, she said, "I must confess my
faith!" She became an intelligent Christian. She knew a great part of
the Bible by heart. "I have read the New Testament all my life," she
declared, "and never knew what it meant before."
Janie worked for the Carrs all the time they staid in Melbourne. She
regularly attended the Sunday services, the prayer meetings, and the
other gatherings of the church. From her wages she gave one shilling
every Sunday morning. She read the church papers and the daily papers
while the Carrs and their boarders were at breakfast. Her room was kept
clean and inviting, and a talk with her was refreshing; seldom did a
preacher visit the house, who did not ask to see Janie.
Mrs. Carr would sit in the kitchen to hear Janie read "Bobbie Burns,"
with the proper accent. The servant had seen the places described in
the poems; she had known people who had known the poet. She knew
anecdotes about him that have never seen the print. She told about a
working girl who, on looking into his room, found him stamping upon the
floor, and rushing back and forth like mad; how she had rushed down
stairs crying, "He's daft!"--how Burns on hearing the cry exclaimed,
"'_Daft!_' the very word I was trying to think of!"--and how he slapped
his knees, and fell to writing.
It was Janie's delight to take care of Mr. and Mrs. Carr,--to stand
between them and those innumerable details of daily life, that sap the
energies, that waste the time, and ward off the essential objects of
life for those who have no Janies.
"She would go to market seeking to tempt our appetites. She would say,
'Oh, you don't eat enough to keep a bird alive!' She petted us. No one
regarded her as a servant except herself--but she always held herself to
be one. She was, indeed, more of a companion. A beautiful character--one
who did her duty because it _was_ duty, and who loved us till we felt
that she was one of the family. Her disposition was bright and
cheerful. We often found her reading while the kettle boiled, or going
about her work with an open book propped upon the kitchen table. One day
I went into the kitchen and found her laughing outright. 'What is it,
Janie?' 'Oh, I was laughing at what Mark Twain says about the Turkish
bath!' What ever concerned us seemed as sacred in her eyes as a
religious matter, and she would guard it as her own interests. Hers was
a life in which we could see no fault."
A high testimonial to one who serves for years in one's kitchen! A
testimonial rarely given, rarely merited. Let this be an excuse, if one
is needed, for giving so much space to the simple maid from Scotland.
Here is one whose soul bursts through the vapors of false pride and
unlovely shame that does so much to soil the beauty of the poor. Here is
one who recognizes the dignity of service, and who shows by humble acts
that mark each hour, she loves her neighbor as herself.
And now that we have one so efficient and willing to admit the visitors,
to cook the meals and to do the washing, let us retire to the library
and, without fear of interruption, enjoy a sheaf of letters, which lie
before us; not, indeed, drinking them to the very lees, but sipping
here and there. Our word for it, if the reader be in the mood for
mail-opening, he shall not go unrewarded.
Here is a young man writing from the Agricultural College of Kentucky
University, whom Carr and Surber have evidently advised to go thither
for a Christian education: "I suppose when I told you I would come here
to school, you thought I would never come. After hard work I got to
England, and I worked hard before I got here; but when there is a
craving for an education, no toil or labor will hinder that young man. I
come to study the scriptures, to be able to go into the world to preach
the Gospel. I work five hours in the A. & M. College on the farm, and
the machine shop. I got to this place without one cent of money. What do
you think my first work here was? Dropping potatoes--Sir; yes, sir!"
J. B. Myers to Mrs. Carr: "I promised to tell you about the changes in
Lancaster," (from which we may glean a little local coloring of Mattie's
old home.) "The railroad runs right by the old Methodist church, out by
the cemetery; indeed, it took away one corner of the old brick building.
The passenger depot is on the Crab Orchard pike." (Then he enumerates
all the new houses on the various pikes, tells what girls are going to
"set out," and remarks that he pays more attention to ladies since his
sister's departure.)
"I am still in the old room over Brother Sweeney's store! I have
furnished it up with a $30 bookcase, etc. I have resigned my position in
the Male Academy to teach a public school no more forever! I can't live
that way--too much time consumed in watching the pupils, and making them
keep order,--and the rest of my time, too worried to throw my soul into
the work, and give efficient instruction. I begin a private class of
about 20 choice boys, right away." Then about some who have died; some
who have married; a foolish young girl who has kept her marriage a
secret; and a poor gentleman who is growing too fleshy, and the fond
hope that--"When you and Ollie come back to old Kentucky, you must keep
house, and I will board with you!" "A year of your absence is about
gone. May the three pass speedily! Yea, let them all pass rapidly that
you and Ollie may be returned to me. How I love you my dearest sister!
Tell Ollie I love him; too, and am proud of him!" (Very different does
Brother Joe talk, now that he no longer stands hatless upon the pike,
stopping our stage coach!)
Here is a letter from our blacksmith, Eneas Myall: "I would not think of
writing to you; but I know what it is to be far from home, and the
pleasure of receiving a letter when among strangers; and besides, it is
my duty to answer your letter. I regret very much that you did not get
to see any of my folks when you were in England. I wish you could see
more of England. I am satisfied it is the greatest opening for primitive
Christianity in the world. Ollie, this will be rather a broken letter as
I am talking, selling and writing all at the same time. We are getting
along religiously, as well as common. It looks a little odd to see your
father and mother attending church; but we are all glad to see it. Your
father is always in his place, and so is your mother, when she can get
there. And let me tell you, you are not forgotten in our prayers. We
hardly ever have a meeting that you are not bidden God's speed. Brother
Bartholomew of Philadelphia was here, raising money to sustain a
missionary in that city! Not very many were present, so our contribution
of $60 was quite liberal, I assure you. Our envelope system is
working-well." (Introduced into May's Lick Church by O. A. Carr, who
visited personally every member and gave each fifty-two envelopes in
which to place the promised weekly offering for a year).
"And now, Ollie, as I am about to close--if we meet never again here,
let us meet in Heaven. Let us be faithful to our God. My faith bids me
go forward in the unshirking discharge of my duty, and the promise will
be mine. All the Myalls send their love to you and your lady. Now,
farewell for the present. God bless you both." Thus the blacksmith who
beats his money out of iron to spread the Gospel--writing, talking,
selling, all at once--the hammer in his hand, God in his heart.
Miss Mary Whittington writes from Daughters' College, and we should find
interest in a picture of the scene where Mattie Myers received her
education; "I have a faint idea of how you feel, Mattie, off there in
Australia, for I took a four weeks' trip to Illinois, and cried to get
back to President Williams and the college. You need a correspondent
like myself, to give you little suggestive trifles of the college life.
We have a baby here, wonderful, blue-eyed and spiritual, not a girl,
alas! but a boy--Prince Whittington Williams--the 'Whittington' is for
an old maid who, having no children of her own, is thankful when people
sometimes name them for her--the writer, in a word. Mattie, I hear the
supper bell; I'll run down and eat some battercakes, and drink a cup of
coffee--don't you wish you could hear the supper-bell once more?
"Well, I had my supper in the same dining-room where you drank tea, and
dieted, of yore, but it was not upon the same old oilcloth, for now we
have a table cloth! Moreover the room is neatly carpeted, and the old
chairs have been carried into the school rooms to make way for new ones.
The girls' rooms have new carpets _all over_ them--no naked space under
the bed--and have been furnished with neat walnut toilets, and full tin
sets for the washstands; and I must not forget the red oil-calico
curtains." (The reader must bear in mind that during Mattie's sojourn
here, such luxury was unknown.)
"Mrs. Williams is fat and merry. President Williams is also in a
flourishing condition--weighs 160. His flesh makes him very handsome;
you ought to have seen him several months ago! The secret is that he
has quit tobacco. Dr. Williams is still himself. You would have been
convinced of it if you had heard him this morning at church-time, when
he came storming into the library, crying out, 'Where's Mary? I don't
intend waiting any longer on anybody! Is she trying to keep me waiting
another half hour?' And there I had been hiding behind the door half an
hour, waiting for him! It did me good to rise up, and tell him so."
Here is a letter from our friend Albert Myles, who carried Oliver away
from his sick room in Lexington to hold a meeting at Ghent: "When you
bade me goodby in Cincinnati about one year ago,"--(how short it seems!
and now, how far away!)--"you remember that my health was very bad.
Well, it grew from bad to worse, till I lay at death's door. At Crab
Orchard Springs I rallied, and grew steadily better until October 20th,
1868, when I--I--what shall I say?--I married! Yes, that was the day
that gave me my Ellen for my wife. Two weeks later we took charge at the
Mt. Sterling church, where we are still doing what we can in a small and
humble way. * * * I could see you two as you braved the dangers of the
Irish Channel, and took the long voyage to Australia. I could see you as
you star-gazed and moon-gazed; as you promenaded the deck; as you sat
and sang with the guitar; as you read and prayed in the raging storm. As
you say, none but God can know what you suffered on that voyage; but it
is a precious thought that He _does_ know.
"Ol., I gather the following impression from your answer regarding my
coming out to Australia, 1. Melbourne is the best field in Australia. 2.
This field is supplied. 3. Adelaide is supplied by Gore, Earl and
others. 4. New Zealand is in danger of a war with the natives, the issue
of which is doubtful without help from the government. 5. Whoever
accepts the L80 must go to New Zealand. With these facts before me, to
be honest, it does not appear to me that Australia is more in need of
preachers than many places in the United States.
"In New York, there are only about 400 Disciples; in Philadelphia, only
about 300; while in Baltimore, Cincinnati, Chicago, St. Louis and San
Francisco, which will average about 25,000 population, there is scarcely
an average of 100 Disciples; moreover, in many rural communities, we
have not even been heard of! In California are thousands of Chinese who
are actually worshiping-idols! It occurs to me, that men who love the
ancient order of things, are as much needed here as in Australia. You
say also, that the manner of worship there is different from what it is
here. This being so, one would have to spend some time preparing himself
for the changed condition. If I know my own heart, I never wanted to do
anything so much in my whole life, as to go to Australia; but the more I
think of the matter, the more firmly I am convinced that if one goes to
Australia at all, he ought to make up his mind to stay there. J. C.
Keith" (the other member of our "Trio") "has succeeded in getting a
comfortable house of worship built in Louisville. He is doing well." (We
have a purpose for presenting Mr. Myles' objections to going to
Australia, which will be developed later).
Another letter from brother Joe, written in May, 1868, and of more than
transient interest: "The last spike on the Union Pacific Railroad was
driven last Monday. Thousands of faces are turning Westward, where large
farms can be bought for small prices. New York and San Francisco are at
last united by a mammoth railroad that spans the continent. While the
last spike was being driven, telegraphic wires were in connection with
all the larger cities, and at each stroke of the hammer, the wires rang
signal bells from the Atlantic to the Pacific. As I read the accounts of
the great demonstrations, of processions and bonfires, my own breast
caught the spirit of the age of great enterprises, and I felt like
seeking my fortune amid the rich prairies of the West. But then, I
thought, man's life does not consist in the things he possesses; so I am
resolved to be content in my Old Kentucky Home! I feel inexpressible
satisfaction in the thought that while teaching boys, I am exerting a
purifying and elevating influence,--an influence that will mould
society, and tinge its religious, literary and charitable institutions,
long after this heart has ceased to beat. O, what a privilege is ours,
Mattie, of setting in motion waves of eternal blessing! How strange that
the great mass of mankind neglect such opportunities!
"We are now agitating the question of the removal of the Capitol from
Washington. If the Union remains undivided, such a step will be made
sooner or later. But wherever they put the Capitol, _my_ home shall be
three miles from Stanford on the Crab Orchard pike! I like to think how
I am going to fill one cellar with choice apples to roast by the winter
fires. Wilt come and see us, and help peel and eat, while we talk of
Australia? And what rich cider for you and brother Ollie! And there is
the garden--oh, what a variety of vegetables! we'll store them away in
the other cellar, and keep them for you. And if you should happen to
come back home in strawberry time! Cake, cream, berries--oh, you must
not think of staying longer than three years! Counting six months for
going and coming, and three years for active service in Melbourne,
you'll get here in August, 1871. Well, we can visit the Crab Orchard
Springs together--they are only distant a short buggy-ride of eleven
miles on the smooth pike--and we can take a jug along and bring it back
full. You say it will be too warm? But remember, we have a good ice
house. Then what a fine lot of chickens and eggs we will have and * * *"
But by this time sister Mattie is weary of cleaning off her spectacles,
and puts her head upon her arm in that far-away Barclay Terrace, and
gives it up, gives it all up for the time--with faithful Janie to ward
off visitors. Oh, brother Joe, how could you!"
Do you remember the English Murbys who carried the Carrs away from their
splendid hotel in London, and established the missionaries in their own
house? Here is a note from Mrs. Murby:
"I often take up my album to look at you both. I think over again the
events of the few days we spent together so pleasantly. I always regret
your time with us was so short; but we hope to give you a hearty welcome
again in old England." (Strange how everything dear to us is "old!" It
should be a comforting thought to grandparents.)
"You overrate any little attentions we may have given you. It was a
great pleasure for us to make your acquaintance. Our brother" (the
Chicago merchant) "returned to the land of his adoption the month after
you left. Willie is a bonnie lad now, nearly eighteen months old. Nellie
is over four, and quite a little companion for me." (Let us trust she,
too, will find primroses in the streets of London).
If you would like a photographic representation of Kentucky University
life, do not skip this letter from J. H. Stover. It is nothing to our
purpose who the author may be; but he has succeeded in laying before us
not a description of that college life, but the life itself. Here is the
scene in which Oliver, as a student, so often mingled, and which Mattie,
as a visitor, so often looked upon; Lexington in the month of June.
Faded, almost gone, are many of the words, but when we rescue them from
threatening oblivion, they throb again with the _actual_, which throbs
best in trivialities.
"Our exhibition went off last night. Brother J. B. Jones gave his first
oration before the public; it was well delivered throughout. The
valedictory was by W. A. Oldham, who did the best I ever heard him.
Milligan, McGarvey, Meng, Wilkes, etc., sat upon the rostrum. The ladies
had helped decorate the house with cedar, etc., very tastefully. Robt.
Milligan has just got him a new coat and pair of boots. He has laid
aside that old coat which he used to wear, even the first year. He has a
new hat, too, but he still keeps on the same old shawl. He comes into
chapel with his hand to his head, as of old. He did not have his usual
sick spell this spring. The last time we met, he told us that we were to
have vacations from our duties, 'but, young brethren,' he said, 'there
is no vacation in the school of Jesus Christ, our adorable Redeemer.'
"Brother McGarvey is just the same--same old coat. I went down to the
dormitory this morning and, as usual, there were about half a dozen boys
standing before Morton's bookstore. They were discussing who had the
best speech, and showed the best delivery, at the Exhibition, last
night. Brother Jonathan M. came out and said, 'Good morning, young
gentlemen!' in that tone bordering on sharpness, as usual." (What a keen
observer! We should dread to wear our old coat where he could see us!)
"Brother Myles is here. So is Miss Ella Allen. They were together last
night, but I know nothing farther than when you left." (The reader has
already seen what _that_ came to.) "Professor Neville, W. T. Moore and
uncle Dick Bishop have gone to Europe. Professor was excited to death.
It was his long-looked for trip. He bought him a new suit of clothes,
for the trip. He looked funny in his sack coat. Professor White looks
just the same, except his hair is longer. Those same old shoes with
holes in the toes, he still wears. His hat, turned down before, and up
behind, hangs on the peg on the post yet, during recitation-time. The
boys, as of old, went to the board, 'fizzed' and took their seats when
he said, 'That is sufficient, I believe!' When I went up to him this
morning to inquire my standing, he looked into that _same book_. He told
me I had finished the Junior. As I went out the door, I slapped my
thigh. Don't a fellow feel good when he studies hard, and does better
than he looked for! Alex. Milligan still walks as fast as ever, and the
bald place on the back of his head is none the smaller. He is doing well
in his book store. Brother McGarvey told me this morning to tell you he
would write soon. I heard from Jim Keith a few days ago. He is doing
well! Miss Whitie Hocker graduated at the Sayer Institute last week. Our
Sunday-school had a festival about two months ago to which the Midway
Orphan School was invited. The Bible school was dismissed. McGarvey and
Wilkes managed it. I think it was after you left that John Morgan's
remains were brought here and interred. There was a very long
procession. As I was walking down the street, today, I met J. B. Bowman
in his old buggy, behind that same old black, bobtailed mare. He was
driving very fast as usual. Next I met Prof. Pickett. Although it was a
very hot day, he had that coat buttoned up to his chin. He had that same
black cane, and he saluted me in fine military style, then walked on as
fast as possible. I met the old darkey who took care of G. L. Surber's
room the first year. He wanted to know if I had heard from 'Massa Green
Surbah.' I saw old man White with whom you used to board. He still has
the grocery on the corner; Kate isn't married yet. He still swings his
hands as he walks, and ducks his head forward as usual. Brother Lowber
came up and said, 'Well, here is Brother Stover; how _do_ you come on,
Brother Stover?' I think he has asked me that same question four times
this morning, with the same smile. He is a very warm and affectionate
friend.
"I saw Bob Neal next. He wore his hat as you remember. Jerry Morton
nodded his head at me as he went by. Dick Stohl stopped me to ask where
he could find a Horace, and Cottingham called to me from across the
street. As I came home, I met Brother Lard returning from Winchester in
his buggy; he had 25 additions there. At the table, Brother V. P. told
me his prayers were frequently in your behalf. Dear brother Ollie, if I
have succeeded in interesting you with these trifles, I am repaid for my
long letters. Give Mattie my love, and tell her I claim kin with her."
(Which letter, we fear, leaves Oliver about as homesick as J. B. Myers'
left Mattie.)
True to his promise, here comes a letter from Prof. J. W. McGarvey: "We
published your letter, and a call for packages in the _Apostolic Times_,
and have received, in response, enough books, pamphlets and newspapers
to fill a medium-sized goods box; we will ship them soon. We now have a
circulation of nearly 4,000 for the _Apostolic Times_. I received a copy
of your tract, and noticed it in the paper. Innovationists have become
rampant among us; they expected to run over our Brother Franklin by
affecting superior knowledge, but the _Times_ cannot be frowned down in
that way. We hope to fill a gap in the ranks of the faithful. You are
right in not encouraging the brethren to send to America for preachers
while neglecting useful men at home. Teach them to encourage young men
of promise. Some changes have occurred in the University. Brother
Pickett resigned his presidency of the Agricultural College, and it was
offered Brother Errett. The chances are, however, that Errett will take
a chair of Bible study, just created at Bethany. He will probably give
up the _Standard_, and it will die. It has never more than paid
expenses. Brother Graham has resigned to take the presidency of the new
female college of which Brother Hocker is proprietor. John Augustus
Williams has been elected President of the College of Arts. You both
have a large and warm place in the hearts of thousands of the saints.
The Lord be with you."
Another note from the Australian student, now at the University: "I am
now engaged in the selling of books in the vacation: my object is to
make enough money to pay my way through Bible College. My board cost me
nothing, for I am stopping at the home of Dr. W. H. Hopson. I suppose by
this time you have received the books, magazines, etc., from President
Milligan. I preach occasionally at Providence and Bethany. Cannot some
of our young brethren in Australia come out here and prepare themselves
to preach to poor dying sinners? They may say they cannot pay the
passage; but if they love the Lord, they will come, and work their way
through."
The following is from Mrs. Carr to her brother: "How my heart blesses
you, for almost every mail brings us cheer from your pen! If it be the
will of God that we ever again see each other face to face, you will
know how grateful I am. You would laugh if you could see us running to
the door at the ringing of the postman, or leaping from our seats at the
cry of--'_Arrival of the British Mail!_' We have many dear friends here,
but a word from Kentucky carries our hearts back in a mighty rush, and
all is lost in the old and tried affections of home. Forget you, did you
say? Ah, we could not if we would. Come back to you, did you say?
Assuredly, if it is God's will. When I come back, brother, I want to sit
in your lap, and with my arms about your neck, tell you of my little
trials, and of my many, very many abiding joys. Ollie's health and mine,
is not good as when we first came here; we fear it may be due to the
climate. Ollie is so upright, so gentle and kind to me, that I have
strength to bear everything.
"Now a question: Suppose we should establish a College in Australia,
exclusively for young men, hoping some day to convert it into a
university--and suppose we should cry to America for professors--would
you come? Think of the cries of the churches here for education--how
they are obliged to send their young men all the way to Kentucky to
prepare them for the ministry in the Christian Church. _Would_ you
come?" And much more to the same purpose, showing that this idea of a
Christian University in Australia, has become a fixed idea with Mrs.
Carr--an idea which she is not to yield readily.
Now comes O. A. Carr to the charge, showing a little of the heat of
battle that has been roused by controversy with the sectarians. It is
Thomas Magarey, father of Alex. and Vaney, whom he accosts: "Thanks for
candor, but your admonition was unnecessary. I know how it would
aggravate a zealous brother to think that my little squirt is throwing
water on the fire he is trying to keep aglow. You seem to think that I
am desperately bent on doing nothing with a vengeance, especially if it
will injure Australia. It may be true I have no more judgment than a
pig; I may be showing the pig--or dog, if you like,--in writing this;
but like you, if I am wrong, I apologize. And now to the point: What I
wrote was solely to argue that we must not depend upon America in the
contemplated college affair. My reason for believing that evangelists
would not come here from there, was the simple fact of their not coming.
I have never written a line home derogatory to anyone's coming to
Australia. I wrote a confidential letter to Brother Albert Myles, which
he made me promise to do; I gave my first impressions of Australia, and
they were more favorable than I ever dreamed I could give, when I was at
home. As Brother Myles was to come on Adelaide money, I frankly told him
that I could not give him any account of Adelaide. I never believed
Brother Myles would come, when we received the call at the same time,
for the conviction that he should do so, was not so strong as mine. His
mother was a widow, and looked to him for support. Brother Myles is as
true a soldier of the Cross as ever drew the sword. Had he seen his way
clearly, he would have come, for he wanted to do so. I hold myself free
from throwing anything in the way.
"Pardon me for saying it, but I suppose I will always be a '_new chum_'
and 'too inexperienced for old English women to sit under,' and 'who
ought not to be allowed to write a little Tract till some old,
experienced brother had reviewed it to see if it were sound.' I want
you to believe that the 'new chum' wrote nothing he could not prove, and
that he is anxious for all to come and help in the glorious work, who
ought to assume the responsible position of a preacher. So much from the
'bear with the sore head!' There; now! I haven't flared up. I do hope
you will send for more evangelists, and that the country will be
supplied with a faithfully preached Gospel. Alex. is much better, and is
able to eat heartily; Vaney is well. Mattie, I believe, is writing to
you."
Back to the charge comes the doughty Englishman, Member of Parliament,
and miller from South Australia: "It is a very busy day with me, but I
must not leave you under painful feelings caused by hasty words of mine.
As I was mistaken, I am heartily thankful, and apologize without
reserve. In the first place, you _are_ a new chum, and nine out of ten
new chums write home under disappointed feelings, as the romance melts
from those visions which lend enchantment to the view. But since you did
not do so, I am much to blame for hasty accusation. As to the rest, you
misunderstood my letter. The fault is with me. I am always getting
myself into unpleasant scrapes by my correspondence. Even the
newspapers that report my speeches complain that they cannot tell
whether I am joking, or in earnest. I have always looked upon you as a
great acquisition to the cause of Christ in Australia. I cannot imagine
what you mean by talking of 'a bear with a sore head.' I am utterly
unconscious of having written anything to give rise to your expression.
Will you kindly send me the whole passage. I do not think of you as a
bear at all, sore-headed or otherwise. Why, I look upon you as one of
the pillars of the Cause. I think,--if we get so much out of Brother
Carr at 24, what will we get at 30! Then I think that by the time you
are 30, you will have ruined your health, and be fit for nothing. I feel
angry that you undertake so much. I know, had it not been for you during
Brother Surber's absence in New Zealand, the Cause would have gone to
ruin in Melbourne. Then how could I have thought you in the way, as 'a
pig,' or as a man? I do not think any of our evangelists are without
faults; but if I let them see that I do not consider them faultless,
they should not therefore run back to America, as they sometimes
threaten to do! I ought to have known better than to take such freedom
with our friends from Kentucky. It is said by travelers that a
Southerner will allow you to tell him his faults, or his country's
faults. But he will not; or can not, understand any playful allusions to
them. Now, Brother Carr, I am exceedingly sorry to have written anything
that hurt your feelings. I begin to have some dim recollection that I
_may_ have written something about a bear with a sore head, but I cannot
remember what it was. What _was_ it? I have Sister Carr's letter; am
delighted with it; was afraid she might be cross about that bear. I have
no letter from my boys, but hope to receive one soon. But I must close
this long rigamarole which I cannot read myself, it is so badly
done."[12]
As a last letter in this chapter's mail--what a long chapter it is
making!--this is offered from Martin Zelius, he who began Melbourne life
with one shilling, and later sent to America the gold that brought over
Mr. and Mrs. Carr; it will show that he, too, was interested in that
Tract: "I have heard that you intend to investigate, and bring out, the
injustice that one of the religious bodies here has done our people. I
hope you will do it most effectually, not for the sake of victory, nor
of retaliation, but for the love of the truth. Stand up at any time, and
under any circumstances, to defend the commands of Jesus. He has said he
will never leave us, nor forsake us. When we have our friend Jesus to
stand by us, our confidence is raised to the highest pitch. My dear
brother, it brings the tears to my eyes when I look back on the past,
and see how Jesus has shielded me from many a trial, from many a foe.
Stand up for him, Brother Carr! He who is with us is more than all who
can be against us!"
The way in which the Church of Christ looked at religious matters was so
different from the usual view, that the American evangelists felt the
pressing need of tracts to disseminate their ideas. One illustration of
their effectiveness, may close this branch of the subject.
There was a young man whose parents lived in a house passed, every day,
by the Carrs, on their way to town. The father belonged to one
denomination, the mother to another, while the son, finding the
Calvinistic doctrines of both repellant to his bent of mind, refused to
accept any scriptural or unscriptural principles. He graduated at the
Melbourne University, then took a special course for the degree of M. D.
He went into the adjacent country to practice, without having ever met
the missionaries. One day he came across one of O. A. Carr's tracts. "I
read it with great interest," he said. "I asked myself, is this the
truth? I was then unsatisfied with the truths of Christianity."
The young man sought his Bible, and began with Moses and the prophets,
in a course of systematic and scrupulous examination of the Word. He
read himself into the belief of the Christian church. He called upon the
neighbors to meet in a hall, that he might tell them what had won him to
Christianity. He delivered to them a course of lectures, insisting that
everything needful to man's salvation, and life of holiness, was
explicitly laid down in the Bible. At the conclusion he cried out, "Is
there any one here who believes?"
More than a hundred rose and answered yes! He heard them confess their
faith in Christ's divinity. He baptized them. Having determined to
prepare himself for the ministry, he laid aside his practice, went to
Kentucky University, and, thanks to his splendid education, was able to
finish the course in a year. Thus Dr. A. M. Fisher became Fisher the
Evangelist, thanks to a tract written by one who, not many years before,
was gathering up the shavings in Myall's wagon shop.
[8] Martin Zelius, happy man! About the time Eneas Myall was seeking
work and found it at May's Lick, Kentucky, Martin Zelius stood in the
streets of Melbourne, wondering to what he should turn his hand. He
turned his eye and saw across the street a flaming placard: "Evangelist
from America, H. S. Earl, will preach in St. George's Hall," etc. "No
where to go," he thought to himself, "I will go hear that man." He was
charmed with what he heard, and soon became obedient to the faith. He
entered upon a business life in which his success was marvelous:
everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. Whole-souled,
enthusiastic, he stood before the church and asked the privilege of
sending from his own earnings the money to pay the expenses of the
evangelists from America. One night, when he had come from church he
learned that a brother was aggrieved at him: he hired a "cab", drove
across the city to that Brother's home, called him from his bed out to
talk with him alone, and broached the matter in such a way that the
Brother said: "O, it was a trifle, I should not have mentioned; I am
ashamed of myself because I did. Is it possible that you have come all
this distance to talk about that?" "Why, yes," said Martin Zelius, "our
Savior said, 'if thou bring thy gift to the altar and there remember
that thy Brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift; go be
reconciled to thy Brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' I could
not pray to-night until I came to see you, and know what I had done to
offend you." "Well, I always thought a great deal of you, but more now
than ever." Forgiven and happy he goes home, at peace with all the
world.
His wife, fit companion for such a man, of meek and quiet spirit,
entered into fullest sympathy with Mrs. Carr, understood her, knew her
and loved her. She entreated Mrs. Carr to visit her daughter in
California and arrangements were made to do so, to start in two weeks
(in November, 1907); but in five days she had gone to the eternal home.
O. A. C.
[9] See appendix.
[10] Alexander T. Magarey and Vaney J. Magarey were sons of Thomas
Magarey, M. P., of South Australia. They made their home with us while
attending the University of Melbourne. Two more congenial spirits I
never met; nor better students. Then, too, they were Christians from
very love of the Savior, and delighted in the truths of the Gospel. They
were very intelligent in the Scriptures. After my return from Australia
Alex. visited me in Kentucky. It was my delight to take him among my
kindred; for he and his brother seemed to me like one of my own family,
and to present him to the Brethren as a specimen of what sort could be
found in Australia. The memory of him, his father, brother and the
Magarey family is very precious. Alex. would have me take him to see the
mother of Brother Be. sley who went to Australia, came home an invalid
and died of consumption: he must weep with that mother and see the grave
of that young man: he must see those--teachers and preachers--of whom he
had read; he wanted to take them all by the hand, and such a hand grasp
as he gave was remembered. We were sitting together in the Main Street
Church in Louisville during the State Meeting in 1880, when T. P. Haley
asked if any knew of rich men's sons who are preachers of the Gospel.
Only two were known--T. M. Arnold of Covington, Kentucky, and Alex.
Magarey. On one occasion his horse, which no one drove but him, took us
in a buggy from his father's home to a church near Adelaide where Alex.
preached. The people there were poor, and he would minister to
them--"preach the gospel to the poor". He taught them to give. A woman
who had no money had gathered the wild flowers--her offering--better
than gold to him. He took them home and pressed them, possibly had them
as long as he lived.
The name "Magarey" always honored in the Campbell Home, is it strange
that when Alex. came to the United States the next time it was for the
express purpose of bearing to his Australian home a bride--niece of
Alexander Campbell?
These young men (A. T. and S. J. Magarey) were my ideals of what young
Christians ought to be and do: they were so congenial to me--my
companions even playmates, sympathized with me so fully, helped me in my
work, that when their earthly life ended it seemed that a part of my own
life had gone with them. O. A. C.
[11] Philip Santo--a prince among men--a generous, sympathetic soul
"Come to see us", was his message to me, "Jeff." (T. J. Gore) "wants to
see you--I will take no excuse". Of course, I had to go. When we had
enjoyed his home for a while he sent "Jeff." and me to the seaside--to
Port Elliot, the farthest limit of land toward the South. Up on the
immense cliff at the hotel we feasted the body and rested, while we
looked far out over the Southern ocean toward the South Pole. At night
the tide would lash the waves up in sprays to the very top of this
cliff: in the afternoon we strolled the beach, gathering shells, and
leaving our little (?) footprints to be washed away at even. Every year
T. J. Gore visits Port Elliot with his family for a season; and a
picture of it hangs on the wall at Carr-Burdette College.
Philip Santo, happy man, was always planning, preparing something for
the good of the Church. He would sit in his Library at night and read
until absorbed in some happy thought he would say: "Jeff., what does
this Scripture mean?" and then he would be silent until next Lord's day
morning when "Jeff." would be delighted with the lesson, and the
exhortation Philip Santo would give at the church. Those who heard him
speak in the House of Parliament were glad to hear him in the Church;
for in the honesty of his soul he ministered in each place. When I bade
him good-by he insisted that I take fifty dollars; for, said he, "I do
not permit the preachers to come to see me at their own expense".
He visited us in Hobart City, Tasmania. He entered the store of his old
time friend, with a cordial greeting. "How do you prosper"? The friend,
a hypercalvinist, he who heard O. A. Carr gladly, read Milligan's Scheme
of redemption and pronounced it the best book, next to his Bible, he had
ever seen, "but who drew back when he heard a sermon on 'My
Sheep'--"Very well indeed," he said, "until the preacher (Carr) began to
preach Campbellism". "What is that you said he preached", said Santo.
"What is Campbellism?" "Oh, I don't know; but that is what they said he
preached". Then he enveloped himself in a mist of dreary theology, and
proceeded into the darkness of the decrees of foreknowledge and "fixed
the fate" of all, as he thought. Whereupon Santo remarked: "Do you think
that any man of ordinary sense can understand what you have been
saying?" Our friend was a good man, and he could bear it, when Philip
Santo said it; but he went into the other room to cool off; but soon
returned to indulge in reminiscences. He read in a few days the
announcement that "The Hon. Philip Santo, from Adelaide, would preach
the next Lord's day in O. A. Carr's place". Then it was revealed that he
had given himself away together with his cause; but he continued to
maintain stoutly that a "sheep could never become a goat".
On leaving us he said: "I want to give you this: you may need some
pocket change"--and placed $50.00 in my hand. Thus he moved around among
the churches--distributing to the necessity of saints like he was "given
to hospitality" in his home.
His heart's desire was to visit his brethren in America. His active
business life forbade a lingering while here. He telegraphed to me to
meet him in St. Louis. Feeling that we must have him in our home at
Columbia, my answer was to tell him how he could come, and be sure to
come; but he must set sail from California at a fixed date and could
not. We missed the joy of his presence. How I would love now to have the
opportunity to do his bidding; but he has gone from the earthly life.
O. A. C.
[12] By association with him and his family in his own home I learned to
love Thomas Magarey, and henceforth to think of him very much as his
sons thought, and to feel that he was a father to us all to correct and
to help us. He could not offend me if he would by any strange position
he might take, or any thing he might say; nor would he intentionally do
so. He was born to be heard, to say what should be in the affairs of
men. Right or wrong in what he claimed as truth, he was a genuine man.
O. A. C.