BUSY YEARS IN AUSTRALIA.
In the shifting crowds of men and women along our life-pilgrimage, few
are those who feel an abiding interest in the concerns of others. We
meet and part, each thinking of what he may have gained in the way of
social inspiration, rather than of what he may have imparted. It is not
indifference, however, which most severely galls the sensitive spirit;
it is the active opposition that ever seems the lot of him or her who
would help humanity. I do not know if any feet have reached the upper
rounds of high ideals, without shaking off detaining hands. In the case
of Mrs. Carr, influences adverse not only to her work, but to her peace
of mind, were destined to attend her through life.
It is impossible to estimate the good that might be accomplished, if
mankind would rally around those souls fired with lofty purposes, and
strengthen and make more effective those purposes, by sympathetic
encouragement; if it were human nature to add to lofty ambitions, by
lending substance from one's own slighter forces. But it appears to be
the rule that wherever one is found who desires to do a great good
for others, a dozen are found to weaken his influence and to seek to
undermine his work. Those physical mannerisms which are presently to
perish with the flesh, are seized upon for the purpose of striking dead,
influences which might otherwise have been eternal.
[Illustration: On Road to Salmon Ponds, Tasmania]
[Illustration: Hobart Town, Tasmania]
When Mrs. Carr, experienced for the first time the cruelty of this
truth, she was unprepared for it. In later years, having learned her
lesson, having been convinced that opposition to truth is inherent to
human nature, she was able to hold her courage with a fixed and
steel-willed conviction, that cut its way through all walks of
opposition. But at first she was not prepared for this unlovely trait of
lesser minds. Accordingly, we sometimes find her sinking, wavering,
fluttering like a bird in a snare, before the breath of treachery, and
the opposition of jealous natures.
To understand the story of this life in its entirety, one must know the
details of these struggles and these disappointments. Yet we would
rather leave the story incomplete, than perpetuate misunderstandings and
misrepresentations. Those who opposed Mrs. Carr in all of her
educational plans, share the fate of one who chooses as his part in
life, that of opposition. It is not he who opposes, but he who performs,
to whom the world owes its gratitude. Those who are antagonistic to good
works, court the oblivion that awaits them. Those who, in spite of
discouragements and hostility, hold tenaciously to lofty purposes, leave
to the world such monuments of their devotion, as the sun-kissed college
on the flower-embossed hill overlooking Sherman, Texas.
We shall content ourselves, therefore, with passing by, in silence, the
words and deeds of the ill-natured, the unfriendly and the indifferent.
One should not go back into the past to gather its thorns. So much is
said at this place, that those conversant with the controversies and
contentions of school and church life during the last quarter of the
nineteenth century, need not expect to find them reanimated in this
volume.
The following selection from Mrs. Carr's diary deals with her first trip
to North Tasmania whither, two years later, she and her husband were to
go for a year's sojourn:
"Jan. 3. Left for Hobart Town, Tasmania, on the ship _Southern Cross_.
Sisters at the wharf. Kissed Ollie goodby. Dashed away the tears--may
we meet again, dear husband!
"4th. Passed through Port Philip's Bay. Over the Rip, that terrible Rip!
what seasickness it brings! Terrible storm! I was crowded out of my
birth, but was glad to get the fresh air. The captain and stewardess
were kind. The Lord bless them.
"5th. Reached Hobart Town, 7 a. m. Met by the Walworths, to whom Ollie
had telegraphed. Saw more vice in two hours than I saw in New York in
two weeks. What wicked people!
"6th. Sailed in the _Monarch_ to New Norfolk, 22 miles. Scenery along
the Derwent is grand, but not to be compared to that of the beautiful
Ohio. Hop gardens far up the hills, shrouded in mists. How lovely!
"7th. Visited Salmon Ponds, 7 miles from New Norfolk. Salmons raised
here, as they are not native to Australia; 30,000 sent to the ocean
yearly through the streams that supply the ponds from the Derwent.
Returned to North Tasmania by coach; fine view of the country--how I
wished for Ollie!
"8th. Stormy day. Spent it indoors, sewing and gazing at frowning Mt.
Wellington, the pride of Tasmania. Attended services on a man-of-war.
"10th. Visited Town Hall and Museum. Saw handwriting of the King of
Madagascar.
"11th. Went by coach to Launceston, distance of 120 miles. The grand
mountainous scenery compensated for the long ride. Passed the Western
ridge on top of which smile beautiful lakes, 1,000 feet above the sea.
More like Kentucky than any scenery I've witnessed.
"12th. Visited Cataract Gorge on South Esk. To Prince's Square where
stands the finest fountain in the Colonies; it was imported from Paris.
"13th. At Mechanics' Institute saw life-size oil paintings of Victoria
and Prince Albert, and the Prince and Princess of Wales. What a sweet,
gentle face Princess Alexandria has! Dear woman, she deserves a better
husband. These people are so kind to me--Ollie will love them for that.
"14. Visited Mr. Gunn, Curator of Museum, who promised to send specimens
to Kentucky University. My husband's Alma Mater is dear to me, because
dear to him. Launceston by Tamar. Sick all the way to Port Philip.
Scenery along Tamar not so bold as along the Derwent.
"15th. Reached Melbourne, and waited at Brother Zelius' to see Ollie.
How glad I am to be with my dear husband once more. May the dear Lord
spare him till I die. Only God knows how dear he is to me; God will not
take him from me."
At this time, the youth whom we have known as "Vaney" Magarey, leaves
the Carrs' household, no longer to play marbles in the third story at
stolen intervals, but to take his place in the world as Dr. S. J.
Magarey; the "Vaney" quite lost among these dignified initials. Also his
brother "Alex." departs, meaning to sail to America. From Adelaide,
Vaney writes back; sending Mrs. Carr ten pounds, evidently on her
birthday, for he tells Mr. Carr, "I promised Mrs. Carr ten pounds.
Please lay them on with your fist with as much severity as you think
fitting." Then he tells of L8,000 worth of Adelaide gold just
discovered, and sends his regards to all inquiring friends, "except
tailors and bailiffs."
Somewhat later, he writes that he will not return; another may have his
room. He is interested in Mr. Carr's work as a teacher of prospective
ministers,--"For goodness' sake, do not turn them out half-educated.
Sometimes students are allowed to leave the Academy before they know
enough, and then they cause anxiety to many, and prejudice people
against colonial-made preachers." As for Vaney, himself, "We are at the
seaside, and have a swim every morning, and drive every day."
An interesting character, this gay young physician, son of the rich M.
P. As we have seen, he and his brother were accustomed to address the
congregations on Sunday mornings, while they attended the University of
Melbourne. When he had graduated, Vaney or "S. J." as we must call him
now, went to South Australia and lived with his father, where Gore was
editing the _Pioneer_. The young physician married one of Mrs. Carr's
favorite pupils. He became successful in his profession, while his
brother developed into a splendid preacher. "Alex. preaches and I
practice," said the doctor. When it was necessary for Mr. Gore to be
absent from the pulpit, he would call on "Dr. S. J." to preach the
sermon in his stead.
In the meantime the father, Thomas Magarey, has seen his son "Alex."
off to America, in the company of Evangelist Earl. He writes to Mr.
Carr, but not now about bears with sore heads: "I have your letter dated
'Washington's birthday.' I have heard something of Washington, but never
heard that he had a birthday. I suppose Washington is one of those best
kind of demons, more worshipped in America than England. When I go to
Barnum's Museum, I will inquire for his birthday.
"I am glad to hear your Forrester's Hall was so hot, because I had
thought our White's Room the hottest place in Australia. I am still
inclined to think we can sweat freer at White's. I am glad Brother H.
makes a good deacon; I am always glad when a Scotchman can be found good
for something. Dr. Johnson says the animal ought to be caught while
young. You say your health is better, but I cannot believe it, for you
give yourself no chance to get better. Go away and take a rest. Why was
Paul allowed to waste so much time and energy? Was he not a citizen of
no mean city (the Kentucky of his day?) Was he not senior wrangler under
Prof. Gamaliel? Had he not graduated with honors and degree of A. M.
from the University of Jerusalem? He was at least master of the art of
tent-making. Yet with all these accomplishments, he went away somewhere
into Arabia for three years. Then he goes from city to city afoot, in
danger of being robbed--why wasn't he provided with a buggy? Instead of
preaching in a jail, why not have occupied the biggest house in
Phillippi? It wouldn't have been refused after that earthquake. Instead
of working at his trade for bread, wouldn't it have been better for the
missionary cause, if the brethren had paid him a salary, and had him
give all his time to preaching? What a waste of time! He might have been
writing a "Reply--_a Tract_"--to the Rev. Annanias of the Temple. And
think of him at Rome, chained to a Roman soldier (no doubt a Yankee
barbarian!) Why, if he had been chained to a Barnabas or Titus, they
must soon have got to quarreling. Think of him two years in his own
hired house, when the church of Rome ought to have put out handbills
that Rev. Paul would preach at the Town Council! But perhaps there were
Scotch deacons in that church, for we know there were Britains in Rome.
They were too cautious.
"But a thought upsets my theory. Perhaps the Lord saw that Paul's own
mind needed the discipline through which he was passing. Perhaps it is
so with young men of the present day--sometimes their energy seems
wasted; but it may be in order to make the most of their good qualities;
that they may learn in time to be sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. Well,
I must close my letter and go out into the barren wilderness which
surrounds me, in which the shepherd is at wits' end to find pasture for
the sheep."
[Illustration: Entrance to Domain, Sidney--Hyde Park.]
From Mrs. Carr's diary, Mar. 27, 1870: "Two years ago we made those holy
vows to each other that only God can sever. Two years ago, we left
brothers and sisters, and all the tender associations of sweet home. May
we ever be true to each other, and to God. O blessed Savior, give me
more of thy gentleness and of thy humility. Make me a better child and a
better wife, as the silent years creep on, leading me closer to the
grave,--the dark path that leads to the beautiful mansion in our
Father's house. * * * Visited Botanical Gardens, overlooking the Bay.
Visited Barrabool hills and along Barwon river to Geelong across the
Bay, 50 miles from Melbourne, where we got a cup of milk."
On Mrs. Carr's birthday, her pupils thus testify to their affection: "We
cannot permit this opportunity to pass without manifesting our
appreciation of the excellent course of instruction you have pursued,
and the kindness, perseverance and patience you have combined with
Christian love and forbearance, with which you have exercised your
arduous duties. You have not only enlarged our understanding, but
excited in our hearts a deep feeling of love. You are more like a dear,
fond friend than a teacher. The most difficult lessons become, under
your guidance, pleasant studies. May you live many years to pursue the
noble efforts of your life."--Signed by the young ladies of her class.
From J. B. Bowman, now in Washington City: "I have been prosecuting a
claim for damages done the University buildings during the war; I will
succeed in getting $25,000, which will be expended in the erection of
buildings at Ashland. I have written thanking you for your valued favor
of shipping the box of specimens for the Museum. We had the pleasure of
opening it to-day at the Smithsonian Institution, and oh! how delighted
was I, with the rare and beautiful things in it! It shall be placed in
a special case in Ashland. Sister Mattie, how exact they are in the
classification and arrangement, showing so much care and skill and
science on your part! General Latham arrived after a trip of six months.
He called on me to-day at the department. He says Sister Carr is the
most highly educated and accomplished lady in Australia. We have about
800 enrolled at the University. The Bible College is a grand success. I
propose nominating Jas. C. Keith as Adjunct Professor. Oh, if I had a
million dollars, there would be 500 in the Bible College! To this end of
enlarging the University, I am working and praying every day of my
life."
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr--relative to this brief visit to Sidney:
"September 27, '71: We will reach Sidney at dark to-night. It is hard to
write on the ship. All of us have been very sick, but it is fine now.
The wind is fair and we are gliding along most beautifully as we
promenade the deck. There is a man on board who has been in Louisville,
and _May's Lick_! His name is Smith; a brother of John's I presume!
"28th: After a fine dinner yesterday at five, we had music on deck. Dark
came on, and with it the lights of Sidney Harbor. It was the grandest
view I ever had of any harbor. The lights were everywhere, and their
reflection in the water was like posts surmounted by candles, and we
were sailing right into the midst of these posts. We came right up to
the wharf and there stood a number of Sidney friends to put us in cabs.
After I went to bed, the old steamer was still roaring in my ears, and
the floor was moving up and down, as I went off to dreamland. I am now
sitting in a little parlor with a headache, waiting for breakfast and
fearfully hungry.
"30th: I saw Parliament houses, and fine they are. I walked through Hyde
Park, where is a monument to Captain Cook with this inscription;
'Captain Cook, born in Yorkshire 1726, founded this territory 1770.'
Just over the monument I saw, away in the distance, part of Sidney
harbor, the sun shining on the hills, and glistening in the water.
Visited a former servant of the Magareys, who is now independent and
owns a mill of his own. His daughter is a fascinating little
creature--don't be jealous!--a perfect prodigy on the piano. They insist
that I must preach here two Sundays.
"Sidney is the funniest laid-out place I ever saw. Part of the city is
compact, the streets running every direction, at all angles, like
London, while a short distance toward New Town there is a cowpen or
paddock. The houses are strongly and handsomely built of massive stone,
and some have stone steps running to the top of the three stories. Some
houses look as if they had stood for centuries. It seems to me that the
poorest thing the people have is religion. The one thing needful is the
only thing neglected. I am not over my seasickness, and even now the
table seems to be going up and down as I write. Give my love to Surber
and Zelius, etc. If my tooth quits aching, I shall bring it back to
Melbourne in my mouth.
"Oct. 3rd: Preached yesterday to small but interesting audiences. At
night, three confessions--the first ever had in Sidney immediately after
the preaching. The brethren were delighted.
"Oct. 4th: Went to hear an elocutionary effort in a little chapel; I was
charmed by the speaker's manner and style, but pained because he did not
preach the Gospel. From there we hurried on a boat for a trip up the
Parramatta river, and saw Sidney Harbor to best advantage. I never saw
such a sight, not even in old Kentucky! It is beautiful beyond
description. The river was clear and smooth, sparkling in the sun. As
far as the eye could reach were the weeping willows and pines, and trees
whose foliage had the appearance of a continuous mountain range,
relieved by beautiful flowers and lawns surrounding the prettiest
houses, in front of which were the winding walks. The red soil and
bright pebbles glistened down to the shore-bridge, where the boat would
stop for passengers. We saw many islands where were beautiful houses and
gardens, and could see the people walking about in their island homes.
The most famous was Cockatoo Island whither the convicts were once sent,
from which there was no possible escape. There stood the houses in which
they had once lived. As the steamer glided on, we saw the ripe oranges
hanging from the trees, and when we landed to go to a hotel at
Parramatta, the perfume of the flowers followed us through the streets.
"Oct. 9th: Your two letters came, and I had a rare treat reading them. I
was so glad to hear of the success you are having in the matter of
raising funds to build the chapel! Hurrah for those sisters at
Collingwood! We'll have a chapel, won't we? Certainly, if my wife takes
the enterprise in hand!"
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr, while he was on his visit to Sidney: "It is very
stormy today on land,--what will it be on the sea? I dreamt last night
of a sinking ship. In reaching forward to save you, I awoke. May God
bring you back safe to me, my dear, dear husband! Jane Nash" (of whom
the reader is presently to hear) "is going to Tasmania in about a
fortnight to be married to Brother Smith; she wants you to perform the
ceremony. Can you not come home by way of Tasmania? Jane will go over
any time you can be there. Let us know."
Among the young men who were bound to the Carrs by tender affection, and
a common religious interest, was George Smith, a hatter by trade. Some
time before the Sidney experience, Mr. Carr met Smith on the street, and
the young man grasped the minister's hand, while the tears shone in his
eyes. He had been out of a job for some time. "And now," he said, "I
have found a position. I answered an advertisement a few days ago, and
a telegram has come for me to take a place at once."
"Then what is the trouble?" asked Mr. Carr.
The trouble was that the position offered Smith was at Hobart Town, in
Tasmania. There was no Church of Christ at Hobart Town; there was no one
known to the young hatter, and, moreover, there was Jane! "How can I
leave the brethren?" exclaimed Smith; "and how can I leave Jane?"
Jane Nash had been reared a Roman Catholic. Through the influence of her
suitor, she was induced to attend the preaching. She was so disturbed by
what she heard, that she resolved to take her Bible, visit the different
preachers, and have them point out the places that might tell her what
to do to be saved. She visited several; but they could only tell her to
read her Bible, to pray, to wait for a divine influence. At last, she
accosted Mr. Surber with her oft repeated question: "Will you tell me
what I must do to be saved?"
"I cannot tell you," said Mr. Surber; "but I will direct you to those
who can; men who ought to know, for the Savior himself inspired them to
speak his will."
[Illustration: Sydney Harbor]
[Illustration: Port Jackson, Sydney]
[Illustration: Sydney Harbor]
Jane was greatly excited. Mr. Surber took her back to the day of
Pentecost, and had her sit under the preaching of Peter. Her question
was the very one Peter had been asked. The answer on that day was the
answer now. Jane confessed her faith, and was baptized.
It was best for George Smith to leave Melbourne, that he might make a
home for himself and his betrothed. Dear as both were to the Carrs, they
urged the young man to accept the position, and Jane, to wait till he
could send for her. After they were married, they faded for a time from
the lives of Mr. and Mrs. Carr; but, as we shall presently see, they
were again to enter their history in a way more pronounced.
In the meantime J. C. Keith writes from Louisville, and gives us a
melancholy bit of news as regards that Australian student whom we had
seen dropping potatoes, to hurry along his education; Keith writes to
Mrs. Carr: "I have read with interest all your articles to our different
papers. You are doing a noble work for the Master. Few women in this
fashion and money-loving age would endure so much for the Savior. Oh,
that woman would rise to the dignity of her position! * * * My letter
has been interrupted. The life of a city preacher is a checkered, yet a
glorious one. One day he exhorts the brethren to be faithful, the next
he faces a bridal pair, the next he stands beside the dead; then he
visits the poor and bereaved and goes reading, and singing, and praying,
on his way. I met Brother Earl and Magarey" (our Alex.) "Earl is working
hard to raise the $20,000 for your Bible College in Australia. I saw Mr.
Cowley yesterday. He is in this city, working for some Boston book
house." (This is our enthusiastic Australian pupil. Note his sequel.)
"Don't think the Cause lost much." (Ah, yes, let us solace ourselves as
best we may.)
J. W. McGarvey writes encouraging words, not about young Cowley, who,
alas! is no longer ours, but regarding another Australian student who is
destined to remain in the fold: "Our Bible College is moving on with
steady growth. We have 107 matriculates and expect 20 more. The
_Apostolic Times_ is growing in favor, but not so rapidly as we would
like. The tendency among us is strongly in favor of latitudinarianism;
our opposition to this rouses counter opposition. _The Standard_, under
its free and easy policy, has almost caught up with the _Review_. _The
Christian_ has at last possession of the _Pioneer_, and has a clear
field in Missouri. We have recently had a runaway match of a rather
unusual character. A young son of Brother G. W. Longan of Missouri, who
was a student at the Bible College, got a dismissal to go home, and
slipped off with Emma Lard, Brother Lard's third daughter. Bad for the
children of two preachers! All the special friends of the parties are
very much mortified. The young couple are poor and inexperienced; they
have a poor prospect before them. "Brother Capp" (our young man from
Australia) "is making a good student. He is industrious, popular, and
recites very well for a new pupil. Much love to Sister Carr, and many
thanks for her good letters in the _Times_."
John Augustus Williams is very doubtful about that Australian University
scheme; he writes to Mrs. Carr: "I know the Lord, by his tender
providence, is guiding you to do a good and noble work. I hardly know
what to say in reference to your proposed trip to the United States with
a view to raise funds for a College in Australia. No doubt you could
succeed better than Brother Earl" (whose efforts for $20,000 came to
nothing). "But you would assume a great undertaking. While I would give
you all the help I could, you would have to depend mainly on your own
personal appeals. It is impossible to excite any general interest in an
enterprise that lies so far away. Though Charity may extend a liberal
hand, she does not reach far."
Mrs. Carr, in a letter, gives a sidelight on her busy life: "If you
could follow me one day through No. 4 Barclay Terrace, and then through
the streets of Melbourne, you would lay your finger upon my lips, should
I seek to apologize for not writing oftener. I am discharging some duty
every waking hour, and I rarely retire till after twelve. Yet with all
my humble efforts, a host of duties unfulfilled is daily pressing upon
my conscience. Often in the storm, it is a perplexity to know what
should be done first. But I rejoice that I had the strength to cut the
cord binding me to the vanities of life. No, I do not complain, for I
never _lived_ until I came to Australia. When I read, two years ago,
Mrs. Browning's line, 'Where we live, we suffer and toil,' I thought it
a golden bar of poetry; now I know it to be a diamond of truth. Then, it
moved my girl's spirit with the murmur of the outer world; now, it
pushes my woman's nature toward the inner significance of all things.
Yes, to suffer and toil, is to live!
"So I enjoy this life; but I should enjoy it intensely, if I had but
three hours every day to devote to self-improvement. It may be a selfish
desire; not having a single hour to cultivate my mind, is a sore trial.
I try to smother this longing, fearing it may be wrong; but my every
effort seems to give it a brighter glow. It is a part of my life, a part
of the life that hungers after the beautiful, the wise, the infinite. If
I were with you, I would bore you from morning to night with poetry; for
during my summer vacations in girlhood, my store of poetry grew
painfully immense. Have you read 'Gold Foil,' and 'Bitter Sweet,' or
'Dream Life,' and 'Reveries of a Bachelor'? If not, a rich feast awaits
you. There is a deep, strong poetry in all that dropped from 'Ike
Marvel's pen, though he wrote nothing but prose. I thought of comparing
that brilliant writer to Washington Irving, but remembered the grave of
buried love, and Friendship weeping there, and my hand refused to commit
the sacrilege."
In October, 1871, we find that one of our "Trio"--the
graduating class of '67--has been attacked by a foe from whom there is
to be no escape. The letter is from Albert Myles: "Yes, the notice in
the _Times_ by Brother Brooks was correct. I am disabled from
preaching--my last sermon was delivered April 26th, six months ago. I
may never be well enough to preach again, though I try to keep a brave
heart and hope on. It was at first a cold, of which I thought little,
but instead of getting better, I finally had a cough--the doctors said
it was bronchitis. By their advice, I resigned my position and went to
St. Louis, as the doctors said a rest would restore me. But shortly
after I came to the city, the 8th and Mound Street congregation
earnestly solicited my services. They are poor, and only about 200. I
consented to preach twice on Lord's day, if they would not ask me to
visit; but it was a mistake; the work did not seem heavy, but I grew
worse, and worse. I still thought my lungs were sound, and being called
to the church at Columbia, Mo., I thought I would go there for the
country air. I had been but a week or two, when I was compelled to quit
and return to St. Louis. I had the doctors examine me again, and, to my
utter astonishment, they said with great unanimity that I had old
fashioned tubercular consumption, and that my life depended upon
quitting preaching immediately, and that, for a good while. I have not
dared even to exhort in prayer meeting, since then. As to my coming to
Australia, the dangers of the voyage have never been considered by me.
But if I come--for I cannot even yet decide _not_ to do so--could the
trip improve me sufficiently to labor there? And suppose I came, and
could do no more than I do here!
"My headquarters are still in St. Louis; but I am not living anywhere in
particular. I am at Mt. Sterling, Ky., now, where I see your brothers
nearly every day. They do not look strong, but you can't tell anything
about the Carr tribe by their looks, they are such a bony set! I must go
to church now--will finish this letter after church if strong enough."
The next day he takes up the pen again. "You have doubtless seen an
account of the death of my brother James. No man in the ministry did so
much work as he, in the same length of time. He was literally the victim
of overwork! We have also lost our darling little Allene; she was 20
months old. Not only we, but every one thought her remarkably
beautiful. Dear Ol., you have never been blessed with one of these
little heavenly messengers; but neither have your hopes, once kindled,
been turned to ashes. May the Heavenly Father give us the strength to
endure."
So cries out our young Christian soldier, almost fallen in the last
trench of the hard battle; a cry for help, but a cry, too, of fealty, to
his great Captain. One by one his arms have been stripped from his
feeble grasp--he cannot even exhort in prayer meeting!--and how fondly
he remembers the date of his last sermon!--and no little Allene ("I
shall never love another child so well," he says)--no fighting brother
James to carry on the standard. But he still hopes he may get to
Australia for missionary service. We, who cannot share his hopes, can at
least rejoice that he began duty so young; for consider this; in the few
years of his ministry, he has done more for Christ, than many a man of
sixty.
His beloved schoolmate, Oliver Carr, stands much in the danger of James
Myles. His energies are all gone--we do not say wasted, but spent; a
vacation is imperative, and the missionary turns toward South Australia,
whence have come the letters from Magarey and Gore, and Gore's
father-in-law, Philip Santo. Mr. Carr goes thither on a visit to these
three--the rich miller, the evangelist and editor, and the rich iron
monger. This holiday furnishes us with the concluding series of the
present chapter. The time is the Australian spring (or American Fall) of
1871.
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "I am in Brother Gore's study at Clapham, safe
and sick. I was met by Santo," (M. P.) "Earl" (who failed in his attempt
to bring over American gold for our Australian College) "Moysey" (who
sold his calf some time ago to buy school books, not in vain) "Gore"
(who has a new baby, T. J., Jr., by name, and affords the Australianized
Kentuckian a fresh vantage point from which to argue against
homesickness) "and many others. I never was so thoroughly seasick. I was
on the bed or couch from one harbor to the other. I'm sick yet. Brother
Gore and I came near talking all last night through. I've been asked
many questions about Miss Ettie" (Gore's sister-in-law, who wrote to her
father, "I love you," and who is still attending Mrs. Carr's
boarding-school.)
He writes the next day: "I've gotten off my sea-legs, but my health is
no better. We drove out to Magarey's and the family were glad to see us"
(no talk of sore-headed bears, we may conclude). "Alex. is well," (who
preaches while his brother "practices.") "For the first time, I pulled
ripe oranges from the tree. We talked incessantly. I ate six before
dinner." (The talk, then, not quite incessant!) "This country about
Adelaide is a level plain for 200 miles around the seashore, girt by
hills like those at Maysville on the Kentucky side. In the early
morning, as I look at those hills and the lovely plains silvered with
light, all is so much like home that my heart rises in my mouth, and I
could almost say poetry! Adelaide seems to have been laid out for about
200,000 people, but only about 30,000 have come; so the spaces between
the houses have been made into lawns and fragrant gardens. It is truly a
rural place. The houses are principally one-story, with gardens, trees,
etc. I only wish you were here to enjoy it. We talked about Kentucky
University and the 'boys,' etc., all day long. These are just my kind of
folk!"
Mr. Carr a few days later: "I am resting, oh, so good! I'm as easy as an
old shoe--I wrote that while looking at Brother Santo, who had just
come in to sauce me. He is a good man; I have a deal of fun with him. I
get on the scales nearly every day to see if I've fattened. I wish you
could breathe this clear, fresh air, and the perfume of the roses! I can
hardly stop in the house long enough to write a letter. I baptized one
last night. I told you how scattered the houses of Adelaide are--no
danger of anybody's getting killed by being run over. This air is so
clear that you can distinctly see the bodies of the trees and the cows
grazing on the hills, six miles away. Tell Miss Ettie I don't blame her
for being homesick for a place like this; all the family are just like
Miss Ettie, so you would like them all."
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "I am distressed over Dr. Campbell's diagnosis.
If your right lung is weak, a few more weeks' preaching in the hall
would bring on disease. Now, my dear husband, the best thing that you
could do, is to act the part of a rational being by taking the doctor's
advice. If you will spend the summer in Tasmania" (whither our friend
Geo. Smith has gone to make tall silk hats,) "I will gladly stay here in
Melbourne for your sake. If you ought to return to America before the
building of the Chapel--in other words, before the Cause is firmly
established in Collingwood,--I am willing to do that or anything to
re-establish your health. These are only suggestions; your own judgment
must decide. No consideration could induce me to oppose you in any
course the doctor might pronounce. Ollie, take good care of yourself. I
am glad you and Brother Gore are going to the mountains. Climb Mt.
Lofty, if it is accessible. You won't be able to tease Ettie about her
country, when you return, you are so enthusiastic about its beauties. My
birthday party passed off happily. My girls surprised me with a
beautiful toast rack, butter knife and candlestick. It was a real
surprise. We had delightful music. Two complimentary tickets just came
for you from the Town Hall. Ettie and I will have the tickets, and you
can have the honor. May the Lord bless you, my darling, and give you the
strength to accomplish your proposed work in this land. I will be as
economical as I can, that your health may not suffer for want of travel.
Your large donation to the Chapel Fund will make things a little hard,
but the Lord will supply us in a way that we know not."
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "I have been with Alex. to see such sights from
the top of Mt. Lofty, as I cannot describe. The Magareys have done their
best to make me happy, and oh, I do enjoy it! We went to church;
Brother ---- gave us the fall of Jericho. We got home at 9, enjoyed our
cocoa, then to rest. Brother Gore is going to give his class a two
weeks' holiday; then we will go fishing, and sit on the fence! We have
great audiences here, our Cause is very strong in this country; and yet
there are only about 350 real members (year 1870) in Adelaide; the
faithful are few!"
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "I miss your wise counsel and kind encouragement
in the discharge of duties. I would not wish to live without you; I feel
that I could not. I hope you will write to Brother Albert Myles without
delay. In his present health, he must be greatly crushed by the death of
his brother. If you do not take the rest you require, you will go as
perhaps Brother Albert is going. The Lord bless Brothers Santo and Gore
for their goodness to you! Ollie, I wish you would write more of what
you feel, and less of what you see. I want to know if you are any
better, and I want to know Dr. Campbell's opinion _in full_. Ettie and
I enjoyed the annual meeting of the deaf and dumb at the Town Hall. We
had a representation of a cricket match; and the battle of Hastings. How
did you happen to write 'Six shillings are too much for the book?' In my
opinion you should have said 'Six shillings are too _many_,' or, '_is_
too much.' I called on the American consul's wife; both are pleasant
people. I am still determined to keep you in Tasmania two or three
months during the summer, even if I have to keep lodgers."
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "I find no fault in what you have written for the
_Times_, why you should not have it published. I return you the MS. with
my approval. Brother Gore and I went by coach to a fine old English
tavern at Port Elliott where we staid till Saturday. I got you some
shells. We wandered over the beautiful fields, gathering the wild
flowers daily, and hourly left our little (?) footprints on the beach to
be washed away. I wish you could have seen that view! Mattie, do you
think I would let you stop at home and slave away, for _me_ to have all
the fun, just because of what Dr. Campbell says about one lung? I am
glad your birthday party passed off so well. Many thanks for the
flowers from your bouquet."
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "I am sending you an article for the _Times_, for
you to criticise. Return it to me and I will send it to Brother
McGarvey, as I want to write to him. If there is anything in the article
you disapprove, underline it, and perhaps I will omit. That which you
cannot _tolerate_, doubly underline, and I will certainly strike it out.
Does the little boy really cry for _you_, when you start for town, or
isn't it for Brother Gore? Thanks for the nice flowers. I appreciate
such a remembrance from my 'prosy husband.' If Ettie returns next year,
I will keep you in Tasmania for your health three months. She is such a
good girl, I love her more every day. I miss you more than I can tell,
darling; but I have made up my mind to do what is best for you. Brother
Dick remembered you at morning service, yesterday. It is after eleven
now, and I must read some French before I sleep."
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "I am sorry I wrote you anything about Dr.
Campbell's notion--I believe you called it a 'diagnosis.' There is
nothing serious. My breathing is all right,--but my _unbreathing_ isn't
perfect. But I think I'm coming round finely. I shall certainly write
to Albert Myles. Brother Santo is teasing me--I can't write. He is such
a jolly good soul. He has been put up for the Upper House, and is pretty
sure to go in. Much excitement about it. Brother Gore and I tease him
all the time."
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "I still insist upon that Tasmania trip. Sister
Smith is confident you can do much good there during your two months'
rest." (Sister Smith is the Jane Nash, once a Catholic, whom Geo. Smith
left when he accepted his position in Tasmania. Ever since the hatter
went thither, he has urged the Carrs to come and establish a Church of
Christ; now that he has married Jane, he has a faithful ally in sending
the call for help to Melbourne.) "Expenses are running up, and I have no
way to meet the bills; but the Lord has helped us in the past, and he
will in the future. Your trip to Adelaide has put us in debt; but never
mind, we will get out; just now, we must restore my darling's health.
Your letter was read to the church last Lord's day, and all were
rejoiced at the improvement of your health. They say it is a shame you
have never had a long rest after three constant years of labor! They
desire very much your recovery, for they know how much depends upon you
at Collingwood. I am writing on your table in Ettie's room. She occupies
your study and will till you return. Aren't we saucy girls! But you will
be so glad to see us, you won't scold. My eyes are closing--so good
night, my love."
[Illustration: In Botanical Garden, Melbourne]
[Illustration: In Botanical Garden, Melbourne]
[Illustration: Town Hall, Melbourne
Seats 4,000 on First Floor]
[Illustration: In Botanical Garden]
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "Had a long talk with Sister ---- . She is too
despondent to be a happy woman. There's no use in such a thing as that.
Be cheerful and happy! I wish you were with me here at Two Wells. I was
at the Port yesterday, 7 miles away, and got to fishing and got several
bites, and came near catching a fish. I had him near the top of the
boat, but he--" (Ah, yes!) "I am now at North Adelaide, at Magarey's.
Everybody in the room is talking away, telling me what to write--write
this and that--'Tell Mrs. Carr that joke on you,' etc. Such a pleasant
visit!--talk, music, etc., and I played drafts and beat them badly every
time, and then threatened to beat my antagonist with the board. Brother
Thomas Magarey and I had a long walk and talk. He is a fine man and is
sorry for ever having misunderstood me, and been led to think strange
of us. He shows a great interest in your work."
In the next chapter, we enter upon that Tasmanian visit which was
destined to be of far greater proportions than Mrs. Carr at first
planned. As a final word on the life at Melbourne, we quote from Mrs.
Carr's diary, when all were together in the work:
"My evening class as usual. Ollie is with his Adelphian that he loves so
well. How it has grown in favor under his good and gentle guidance! How
delightful to see him yield a Christian influence over the hearts of
those destined to become the pillars of the church!
"Took two young ladies to Chapel. They had never seen a baptism before,
and were favorably impressed.
"Had a talk with my dear husband on the Baptism of Jesus and John. How
hard I try to be worthy of Ollie!
"Ollie went to officers' meeting after preaching, and came home after
twelve, much exhausted. Blessed Savior give him health and strength, and
keep me humble.
"Wrote to President Williams about my plan for an Australian College.
Blessed Savior, give my husband strength to labor for Thee."