The Story of a Life Part 14

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 seash.o.r.e, 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 s.p.a.ces between the houses have been made into lawns and fragrant gardens. It is truly a rural place. The houses are princ.i.p.ally 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 p.r.o.nounce. 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 pa.s.sed off happily. My girls surprised me with a beautiful toast rack, b.u.t.ter 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 cla.s.s a two weeks' holiday; then we will go fis.h.i.+ng, 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 s.h.i.+llings are too much for the book?' In my opinion you should have said 'Six s.h.i.+llings 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 Sat.u.r.day. I got you some sh.e.l.ls. 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 pa.s.sed 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 d.i.c.k 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."

[Ill.u.s.tration: In Botanical Garden, Melbourne]

[Ill.u.s.tration: In Botanical Garden, Melbourne]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Town Hall, Melbourne Seats 4,000 on First Floor]

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 cla.s.s 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."

CHAPTER XII.

EXPERIENCES IN TASMANIA.

The following extracts from letters of 1872 furnish an interesting account of the removal from Melbourne to Hobart Town, Tasmania. Mr. Carr writes to Mrs. Carr: "Arrived at Lancaster, safe but sick, January 6th.

We set out for the Temperance Hotel, but it had become intemperate and gorged with guests before we got there. We went on, and have struck a bargain with an old woman who charges us one-six for each meal, and one-six every time we sleep. I came near stealing a march on my landlady by falling asleep this afternoon without the old lady's knowing it.

Pretty high fare, but we are high up in the second story. Called on a Church of England acquaintance; he didn't invite me to his residence, but asked me to his pew. The coach doesn't leave for Hobart Town till Tuesday at 5 a. m. This place is just now taken by storm by pleasure parties from Melbourne; I suppose they will go on to Hobart Town. I am better to-day. I do believe if I stayed here, I could establish a church. The people are delighted to hear of your teaching, and of your plan of teaching. Shall I get you any boarding pupils? I believe this climate will be good for me.

"January 10. We arrived at Hobart Town last evening. Brother Smith was at the Coach Office, by chance or providence. There were 48 pa.s.sengers.

It was a very large open coach and we had a fine view of the country from Launceston to Hobart. All the cabmen and mischievous boys in the country flocked around to see why such a big affair had come to town. We were very cordially received by Brother and Sister Smith, and after cocoa, went to bed, and that was delightful, too. It is raining today, and I feel wretchedly dull and bad. I can hardly sit up.

"January 15. I do trust you are not discouraged. I am not. Remember you are a child of G.o.d, and all things work together for your good. I believe I have come to Hobart Town just at the right time, and the Lord will bless my coming to the good of this people, and the restoration of my health. I am enjoying the hospitality of Brother and Sister Smith, who show me every attention. She prepares many nice things for me to eat, and he has given me a fine new hat. I have a front room and a parlor all to myself, and the climate suits me exactly. Brother Smith and I went to the Baptist prayer meeting, and afterwards, they insisted that I preach on Lord's day. They asked me many questions, to which I returned Scriptural answers; I told them all about the church to which I belong, and what I preach; and they agreed, and I came home on tiptoe.

"The next night I went to Town Hall where the different preachers had been preaching all week. Sunday morning I preached at the Baptist chapel to a good audience. Then we ate the Lord's supper. I insisted on the ancient order of things--especially on meeting the first day of the week to break bread. They were delighted, and said I must preach in their chapel whenever I wanted to speak. There is a prayer meeting held every day at noon, and preaching held three or four times a week in the people's hall; but oh, they are so benighted! They don't know the Gospel in its beauty and power. I just burn to preach to them. I will, if I get half a chance.

"January 20. I am called on from every quarter to speak. All seem interested in my sermons. Things look bright, now; but I fear they will soon become prejudiced against the truth.

"January 27. I agree with you about the brick Chapel, and leave it all to you. I do hope they will not put up a wooden one. But they had better not have any Chapel, than to quarrel over it. If the majority say a wooden Chapel, a wooden one let it be. I don't believe in the Collingwood Church's going down. The faithful will remain faithful, despite a Chapel. The people here are becoming enthusiastic. Among my large audience Thursday night, I had two preachers. The people say they never heard such preaching in their lives. I am trying to work them around on Apostolic grounds. Now, Mattie, do not think all for me, and nothing for yourself. I could never forgive myself if I came here for my health, and you overworked. Do not let the building of the Chapel take too much of your strength.

"February 6. Last Lord's day I spoke on [13]'My Sheep' and there were about half a dozen of the higher Calvinists--who own the Chapel--who were not pleased. They will hold a church meeting next Thursday to decide whether or not I am to preach in their Chapel any more. Perhaps if they turn me out of their place it will be for the best, because the people who have been thronging there, do not believe in Calvinism; I am sure none would take steps to the Savior in that church, while I am preaching. I could rent a hall for eight, a week, and think after a while I can have a church here. The people meet me on the street and take me by the hand and say, 'I do wish you were going to live here,'

etc. Last Lord's day, I spoke on the wharf to what is said to have been the largest audience ever a.s.sembled there. I am going to speak tonight at the People's Hall. But you must not think, dear Mattie, I am overdoing my strength; for it is no harder to preach than to go out to tea and talk.

"February 10. Great excitement in church affairs. I preached on John 10:27, and the audience was much interested, even excited, so that they began to talk in the yard about the absurdity of the church's bringing me to task. But I went in to my trial. One of the deacons made the motion that because I preached that it was possible for one who had been converted, to fall away and be lost, and because I said that Christ died for all, the Chapel be no longer tendered to me.[14] The motion was put, and only this deacon and two others voted for it. One man would not vote either way, and four voted in the negative. The chairman announced that I could use the Chapel when I liked, only three being opposed. But I declined to accept the offer, and yesterday tried all day to get a place to preach in; but was told in each place, "No, it would injure the other congregations, by drawing away their members." I am going to preach on the wharf tomorrow, where I will have a larger audience than I could ever have at the Chapel. The cause of the Master will not be hurt by this opposition. The editor of a weekly paper has offered me one page to edit religiously, and thus I will preach to the people. Brother and Sister Smith and I sat up late last night talking over the situation.

She cried like a child and he is so excited over the matter that he doesn't know what to do. They will give us a room as long as we can stay. You must come.

"February 11. To-day has been one of great anxiety. As I could not get a hall to preach in, I thought it best to go to the Baptist Chapel as a hearer. The deacon of whom I wrote yesterday, preached in a vexing manner and Brother Smith was highly wrought up over the misrepresentations of my position. I preached on the wharf to a large throng in the afternoon, and at night heard a celebrated Congregationalist. I was so disappointed at pa.s.sing one Lord's day evening without preaching the Word, that I was unable to give him a fair hearing. The people are in a furor because I cannot get a place to preach in. One lady whom I have never met, offers to give 5 toward erecting some sort of shed, that I may have a place to preach. I am not discouraged. Not even in Old Kentucky did I ever see so much interest manifested. The Lord will surely make some way here that his Truth may be heard."

From Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "My heart is full of you and your mission, and prayers for your success. I believe the Lord will bless your efforts. I am determined that you shall have a hall to preach in, I know you will never sacrifice any of the fullness of the Gospel, hence you cannot continue at the Baptist Chapel. I send you 8 that you may rent a first-cla.s.s hall. This I have borrowed, and I would borrow for nothing but to further your efforts in the Gospel. People ask me if you have had any 'Results.' Do not write to any one but me, of your labors, until you have had what the people call 'Results,'--until at least 20 have obeyed the Gospel. I will pay your rent until then, and after that you may be sure of the hearty co-operation of the churches. It is the _work performed_ that determines the value of any instrumentality. At least, that is the opinion of the churches; and their idea of work performed is embodied in '_Converts_,' or, as some say, '_Results_.' And they are not wholly wrong. Don't write to others about your work until you have success. The 8 will rent a hall for two months at 1 per week, and by that time you will certainly have some 'Results.' But don't forget to take care of my darling's health. I do trust that your success will be such that you can stay three months longer. A gentleman we met in London at Mr. Murby's, called with letters and papers from Mrs.

Murby. She says we must make up our minds to a long stay with her in London, on our return to Kentucky."

We resume Mr. Carr's letters to Mrs. Carr: "I have done it. I have rented one of the best places in the city, Odd Fellows' Hall, for 13-9 per week, including cleaning, gas, etc. Am now at the printing office getting out posters. We are to have six hymns printed for next Lord's day. I will ask baptized believers to remain after the sermon, to see how many members of the church there will be. Tell Brother d.i.c.k to send 50 hymn books, with bill. And tell him to send my baptizing suit in the same box.