PREACHING, FRIENDS, AND WRITING.
My life now became more interesting and varied. A wider field for my
journalistic capabilities was open to me, and I also took part in the
growth of education, both spiritual and secular. The main promoters of
the ambitious literary periodical The Melbourne Review, to which I
became a contributor, were Mr. Henry Gyles Turner (the banker), Mr.
Alexander Sutherland, M.A. (author of "The History of Australia" and
several other books), and A. Patchett Martin (the litterateur). It
lived for nine years, and produced a good deal of creditable writing,
but it never was able to pay its contributors, because it never
attained such a circulation as would attract advertisements. The
reviews and magazines of the present day depend on advertisements. They
cheapen the price so as to gain a circulation, which advertisers cater
for. I think my second article was on the death of Sir Richard Hanson
(one of the original South Australian Literary Society, which met in
London before South Australia existed). At the time of his death he was
Chief Justice. He was the author of two books of Biblical
criticism--"The Jesus of History" and "Paul and the Primitive
Church"--and I undertook to deal with his life and work. About that
time there was one of those periodic outbursts of Imperialism in the
Australian colonies--not popular or general, but among politicians--on
the question of how the colonies could obtain practical recognition in
the Legislature of the United Kingdom. Each of the colonies felt that
Downing street inadequately represented its claims and its aspirations,
and there were several articles in "The Melbourne Review" suggesting
that these colonies should be allowed to send members to the House of
Commons. This, I felt, would be inadmissible; for, unless we were
prepared to bear our share of the burdens, we had no right to sit in
the taxing Assembly of the United Kingdom. The only House in which the
colonies, small or great, could be represented was the House of Lords;
and it appeared to me that, with a reformed House of Lords, this would
be quite practicable. An article in Fraser's Magazine, "Why not the
Lords, too?" had struck me much, and the lines on which it ran greatly
resemble those laid down by Lord Rosebery for lessening in number and
improving in character the unwieldy hereditary House of Peers; but
neither that writer nor Lord Rosebery grasped the idea that I made
prominent in an article I wrote for The Review, which was that the
reduction of the peers to 200, or any other number ought to be made on
the principle of proportional representation, because otherwise the
majority of the peers, being Conservative, an election on ordinary
lines would result in a selection of the most extreme Conservatives in
the body. My mother had pointed out to me that the 16 representative
Scottish peers elected by those who have not a seat as British peers,
for the duration of each Parliament, were the most Tory of the Tories,
and that the same could be said of the 28 representative peers for
Ireland elected for life. So, though the House of Lords contains a
respectable minority of Liberals, under no system of exclusively
majority representation could any of them be chosen among the 200. I
had the same idea of life peers to be added from the ranks of the
professions, of science, and of literature, unburdened by the weight
and cost of an hereditary title, that Lord Rosebery has; and into such
a body I thought that representatives of the great self-governing
colonies could enter, so that information about our resources, our
politics, and our sociology might be available, and might permeate the
press. But, greatly to my surprise, my article was sent back, but was
afterwards accepted by Fraser's Magazine. This was better for me, for
what would have been published for nothing in The Melbourne Review
brought me 8/15/0 from a good English magazine. I continued to write
for this review, until it ceased to exist, in 1885, literary and
political articles. The former included a second one on "George Eliot's
Life and Work," and one on "Honore de Balzac," which many of my friends
thought my best literary effort.
It was through Miss Martha Turner that I was introduced to her brother
and to The Melbourne Review. She was at that time pastor of the
Unitarian Church in Melbourne. She had during the long illness of the
Rev. Mr. Higginson helped her brother with the services. At first she
wrote sermons for him to deliver, but on some occasions when he was
indisposed she read her own compositions. Fine reader as Mr. H. G.
Turner is he did not come up to her, and especially he could not equal
her in the presentment of her own thoughts. The congregation on the
death of Mr. Higginson asked Miss Turner to accept the pastorate. She
said she could conduct the services, but she absolutely declined to do
the pastoral duties--visiting especially. She was licensed to conduct
marriage services and baptized (or, as we call it, consecrated)
children to the service of Almighty God and to the service of man.
During the absence of our pastor for a long holiday in England Mr. C.
L. Whitham afterwards an education inspector, took his place for two
years, and he arranged for an exchange of three weeks with Miss Turner.
She is the first woman I ever heard in the pulpit. I was thrilled by
her exquisite voice, by her earnestness, and by her reverence. I felt
as I had never felt before that if women are excluded from the
Christian pulpit you shut out more than half of the devoutness that is
in the world. Reading George Eliot's description of Dinah Morris
preaching Methodisim on the green at Hayslope had prepared me in a
measure, but when I heard a highly educated and exceptionally able
woman conducting the services all through, and especially reading the
Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments with so much intelligence that
they seemed to take on new meaning, I felt how much the world had been
losing for so many centuries. She twice exchanged with Adelaide--the
second time when Mr. Woods had returned--and it was the beginning to me
of a close friendship.
Imitation, they say, is the sincerest flattery; and when a similar
opportunity was offered to me during an illness of Mr. Woods, when no
layman was available, I was first asked to read a sermon of Martineau's
and then I suggested that I might give something of my own. My first
original sermon was on "Enoch and Columbus," and my second on "Content,
discontent, and uncontent." I suppose I have preached more than a
hundred times, in my life, mostly in the Wakefield Street pulpit; but
in Melbourne and Sydney I am always asked for help; and when I went to
America in 1893-4 I was offered seven pulpits--one in Toronto, Canada,
and six in the United States. The preparation of my sermons--for, after
the first one I delivered, they were always original--has always been a
joy and delight to me, for I prefer that my subjects as well as their
treatment shall be as humanly helpful as it is possible to make them.
In Sydney particularly I have preached to fine audiences. On one
occasion I remember preaching in a large hall, as the Unitarian Church
could not have held the congregation. It was during the campaign that
Mrs. Young and I conducted in Sydney--in 1900, and we had spent the
day--a delightful one--with the present Sir George and Lady Reid at
their beautiful home at Strathfield, and returned in time to take the
evening service at Sydney. I spoke on the advantages of international
peace, and illustrated my discourse with arguments, drawn from the
South African War, which was then in progress. I seized the opportunity
afforded me of speaking some plain home truths on the matter. I was
afterwards referred to by The Sydney Bulletin as "the gallant little
old lady who had more moral courage in her little finger than all the
Sydney ministers had in their combined anatomies." For one of my
sermons I wrote an original parable which pleased my friends so much
that I include it in the account of my life's work. "And it came to
pass after the five days of Creation which were periods of unknown
length of time that God took the soul, the naked soul, with which He
was to endow the highest of his creatures--into Eden to look with him
on the work which He had accomplished. And the Soul could see, could
hear, could understand, though there were neither eyes, nor ears, nor
limbs, nor bodily organs, to do its bidding. And God said, 'Soul, thou
shalt have a body as these creatures, that thou seest around thee have.
Thou art to be king, and rule over them all. Thy mission is to subdue
the earth, and make it fruitful and more beautiful than it is even now,
in thus its dawn. Which of all these living creatures wouldst thou
resemble?' And the Soul looked, and the Soul listened, and the Soul
understood. The beauty of the birds first attracted him and their songs
were sweet, and their loving care of their young called forth a
response in the Prophetic Soul. But the sweet singers could not subdue
the earth--nay, even the strongest voice could not. Then the Soul gazed
on the lion in his strength; on the deer in his beauty. He saw the
large-eyed bull with the cow by his side, licking her calf. The stately
horse, the huge elephant, the ungainly camel--could any of these subdue
the earth? He looked down, and they made it shake with their heavy
tread, but the Soul knew that the earth could not be subdued by them.
Then he saw a pair of monkeys climbing a tree--the female had a little
one in her arms. Where the bird had wings, and the beasts four legs
planted on the ground, the monkeys had arms, and, at the end of each,
hands, with five fingers; they gathered nuts and cracked them, and
picked out the kernels, throwing the shells away--the mother caressed
her young one with gentle fingers. The Soul saw also the larger ape
with its almost upright form. 'Ah!' sighed the Soul, 'they are not
beautiful like the other creatures, neither are they so strong as many
of them. But their forelimbs, with hands and fingers to grasp with, are
what I need to subdue the earth, for they will be the servants who can
best obey my will. Let me stand upright and gaze upward, and this is
the body that I choose.' And God said, 'Soul, thou hast chosen well,
Thou shalt be larger and stronger than these creatures thou seest thou
shalt stand upright, and look upward and onward. And the Soul can
create beauty for itself, when it shines through the body.' And it was
so, and Adam stood erect and gave names to all other creatures."
In the seventies the old education system, or want of system, was
broken up, and a complete department of public instruction was
constructed. Mr. J. A. Hartley, head master of Prince Alfred College,
was placed at the head of it, and a vigorous policy was adopted. When
the Misses Davenport Hill came out to visit aunt and cousins, I visited
with them and Miss Clark the Grote Street Model School, and I was
delighted with the new administration. I hoped that the instruction of
the children of the people would attract the poor gentlewomen who were
so badly paid as governesses in families or in schools; but my hope has
not been at all adequately fulfilled. The Register had been most
earnest in its desire for a better system of public education. The late
Mr. John Howard Clark, its then editor, wanted some articles on the
education of girls, and he applied to me to do them, and I wrote two
leading articles on the subject, and another on the "Ladder of
Learning." from the elementary school to the university, as exemplified
in my native country where ambitious lads cultivated literature on a
little oatmeal. For an Adelaide University was in the air, and took
form owing to the benefactions of Capt. (afterwards Sir Walter Watson)
Hughes, and Mr. (afterwards Sir Thomas) Elder. But the opposition to
Mr. Hartley, which set in soon after his appointment, and his supposed
drastic methods and autocratic attitude, continued. I did not knew Mr.
Hartley personally, but I knew he had been an admirable head teacher,
and the most valuable member of the Education Board which preceded the
revolution. I knew, too, that the old school teachers were far inferior
to what were needed for the new work, and that you cannot make an
omelette without breaking eggs. A letter which I wrote to Mr. Hartley,
saying that I desired to help him in any way in my power, led to a
friendship which lasted till his lamented death in 1896. I fancied at
the time that my aid did him good, but I think now that the opposition
had spent its force before I put in my oar by some letters to the
press. South Australians became afterwards appreciative of the work
done by Mr. Hartley, and proud of the good position this State took in
matters educational among the sister States under the Southern Cross.
It was due to Mrs. Webster's second visit to Adelaide to exchange with
Mr. Woods that I made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. E. Barr Smith.
They went to the church and were shown into my seat, and Mrs. Smith
asked me to bring the eloquent preacher to Torrens Park to dine there.
I discovered that they had long wanted to know me, but I was out of
society. I recollect afterwards going to the office to see Mr. Smith on
some business or other, when he was out, and meeting Mr. Elder instead.
He pressed on me the duty of going to see Mrs. Black, a lady from
Edinburgh, who had come out with her sons and daughter. Mr. Barr Smith
came in, and his brother-in-law said, "I have just been telling Miss
Spence she should go and call on the Blacks." "Tom," said Mr. Barr
Smith, "we have been just 20 years making the acquaintance of Miss
Spence. About the year 1899 Miss Spence will be dropping in on the
Blacks." What a house Torrens Park was for books. There was no other
customer of the book shops equal to the Torrens Park family. Rich men
and women often buy books for themselves, and for rare old books they
will give big prices; but the Barr Smiths bought books in sixes and in
dozens for the joy of giving them where they would be appreciated. On
my literary side Mrs. Barr Smith, a keen critic herself, fitted in with
me admirably, and what I owed to her in the way of books for about 10
years cannot be put on paper, and in my journalistic work she
delighted. Other friendships, both literary and personal, were formed
in the decade which started the elementary schools and the University.
The first Hughes professor of English literature was the Rev. John
Davidson of Chalmers Church, married to Harriet, daughter of Hugh
Miller, the self-taught ecologist and journalist.
On the day of the inauguration of the University the Davidsons asked
Miss Clark and myself to go with them, and there I met Miss Catherine
Mackay (now Mrs. Fred Martin), from Mount Gambier. I at first thought
her the daughter of a wealthy squatter of the south-east, but when I
found she was a litterateur trying to make a living by her pen,
bringing out a serial tale, "Bohemian Born," and writing occasional
articles, I drew to her at once. So long as the serial tale lasted she
could hold her own; but no one can make a living at occasional articles
in Australia, and she became a clerk in the Education Office, but still
cultivated literature in her leisure hours. She has published two
novels--"An Australian Girl" and "The Silent Sea"--which so good a
judge as F. W. H. Myers pronounced to be on the highest level ever
reached in Australian fiction, and in that opinion I heartily concur. I
take a very humble second place beside her, but in the seventies I
wrote "Gathered In," which I believed to be my best novel--the novel
into which I put the most of myself, the only novel I wrote with tears
of emotion. Mrs. Oliphant says that Jeanie Deans is more real to her
than any of her own creations, and probably it is the same with me,
except for this one work. From an old diary of the fifties, when my
first novels were written I take this extract:--"Queer that I who have
such a distinct idea of what I approve in flesh-and-blood men should
only achieve in pen and ink a set of impossible people, with an absurd
muddy expression of gloom, instead of sublime depth as I intended. Men
novelists' women are as impossible creations as my men, but there is
this difference--their productions satisfy them, mine fail to satisfy
me." But in my last novel--still unpublished--felt quite satisfied that
I had at last achieved my ambition to create characters that stood out
distinctly and real. Miss Clark took the MS. to England, but she could
not get either Bentley or Smith Elder, or Macmillan to accept it.
On the death of Mr. John Howard Clark, which took place at this time,
Mr. John Harvey Finlayson was left to edit The Register, and I became a
regular outside contributor to The Register and The Observer. He
desired to keep up and if possible improve the literary side of the
papers, and felt that the loss of Mr. Clark might be in some measure
made up if I give myself wholeheartedly to the work. Leading articles
were to be written at my own risk. If they suited the policy of the
paper they would be accepted, otherwise not. What a glorious opening
for my ambition and for my literary proclivities came to me in July,
1878, when I was in my fifty-third year! Many leading articles were
rejected, but not one literary or social article. Generally these last
appeared in both daily and weekly papers. I recollect the second
original social article I wrote was on "Equality as an influence on
society and manners," suggested by Matthew Arnold. The much-travelled
Smythe, then, I think, touring with Charles Clark, wrote to Mr.
Finlayson from Wallaroo thus:--"In this dead-alive place, where one
might fire a mitrailleuse down the principal street without hurting
anybody, I read this delightful article in yesterday's Register. When
we come again to Adelaide, and we collect a few choice spirits, be sure
to invite the writer of this article to join us." I felt as if the
round woman had got at last into the round hole which fitted her; and
in my little study, with my books and my pigeon holes, and my dear old
mother sitting with her knitting on her rocking chair at the low
window, I had the knowledge that she was interested in all I did. I
generally read the MS to her before it went to the office. What is more
remarkable, perhaps, is that the excellent maid who was with us for 12
years, picked out everything of mine that was in the papers and read
it. A series of papers called "Some Social Aspects of Early Colonial
Life" I contributed under the pseudonym of "A Colonist of 1839." From
1878 till 1893, when I went round the world via America, I held the
position of outside contributor on the oldest newspaper in the State,
and for these 14 years I had great latitude. My friend Dr. Garran, then
editor of The Sydney Morning Herald, accepted reviews and articles from
me. Sometimes I reviewed the same books for both, but I wrote the
articles differently, and made different quotations, so that I scarcely
think any one could detect the same hand in them; but generally they
were different books and different subjects, which I treated. I tried
The Australasian with a short story, "Afloat and Ashore," and with a
social article on "Wealth, Waste, and Want." I contributed to The
Melbourne Review, and later to The Victorian Review, which began by
paying well, but filtered out gradually. I found journalism a better
paying business for me than novel writing, and I delighted in the
breadth of the canvas on which I could draw my sketches of books and of
life. I believe that my work on newspapers and reviews is more
characteristic of me, and intrinsically better work than what I have
done in fiction; but when I began to wield the pen, the novel was the
line of least resistance. When I was introduced in 1894 to Mrs. Croly,
the oldest woman journalist in the United States, as an Australian
journalist, I found that her work, though good enough, was essentially
woman's work, dress, fashions, functions, with educational and social
outlooks from the feminine point of view. My work might show the bias
of sex, but it dealt with the larger questions which were common to
humanity; and when I recall the causes which I furthered, and which in
some instances I started, I feel inclined to magnify the office of the
anonymous contributor to the daily press. And I acknowledge not only
the kindness of friends who put some of the best new books in my way,
but the large-minded tolerance of the Editors of The Register, who gave
me such a free hand in the treatment of books, of men, and of public
questions.