Mrs. Carr proceeds to point out how the building of her college will give employment to carpenters, brick masons, carters, etc., how it will help fill the purses of the dealers in hardware and furniture, and carpets, and coal, etc., until most of the industries known to man are shown to be directly concerned.
"What I have said has been chiefly from a financial standpoint," she concludes, "but I know you love Sherman for Sherman's sake, and glory in her educational and religious progress. I believe you have the gallant Southern pride, and the intensely earnest desire for theeducation of women, to prompt at least one hundred and fifty of you to contribute to this enterprise at least $200 each, especially when you get in return a good-sized lot in one of the most beautiful suburbs of one of Texas' most beautiful cities."
So the success of the enterprise is to depend, it seems, upon the sale of college-lots—an old story, and usually, a sad one! We shall see how it succeeds in this instance.
In the meantime, Mrs. A. M. Laws, wife of the President of Missouri University, writes to Mrs. Carr, January 16, 1892: "I am glad you feel so much encouragement in your new enterprise. If there is such a thing as a fire-proof building, you ought to build fire-proof. I suppose you have heard of the calamity that has befallen our University. It is all in ruins. Last Saturday night a fire destroyed the entire building with its contents. Only the museum specimens, and law library, were saved, and not all of that. But already steps have been taken to rebuild and on a grander scale than before. In the meantime the classes are meeting in various places, all over town. All the portraits and statuary are gone to ashes. Mr. Laws' large oil portrait, and two other crayonportraits of him in the society halls, and one of myself, are destroyed. We will be glad to hear of your success in the new enterprise. Mr. Laws joins me in love and best wishes for a new year."
At last, O. A. Carr comes back from holding meetings in Kentucky, and joins his wife at Sherman. Mrs. Carr, on February 2nd, writes to her Springfield friend, Mrs. Weaver: "I need not attempt to tell you how happy I am to be with my husband once more. He says it is almost like being married over. Nothing but the good work we are trying to accomplish could have persuaded me to stay away from him so long. I have been hard at work all winter, and have got the College enterprise into good shape, and it bids fair to be a splendid success. If we can only stem the tide of our financial troubles a year longer, I think we shall be safe. We think we can get the college in operation by September, 1893. If Brother Porterfield will keep our house until then, or sell it for us, or if we can get the Omaha property off at half-cost price, we will be safe. I believe the Lord will put it into the hearts of our friends to stand by us. When the college is up, we shall be able to returntheir kindness tenfold. How happy we shall be, when the college is built, and we have you and our dear little Tillie with us every winter! Pray without ceasing, dear Sister Weaver, that the college may be built, for we are so anxious to do a good work, and we want towork together, the remainder of our lives. The Reid case at Omaha will retard the college enterprise, for I will have to go there in April; but we trust in the Lord, since the work we are doing is for His Cause, and we believe He will give us success in His own good time.
"We shall be hard pressed, for we are borrowing money, and indeed will be borrowing until the college is up, but after that, we hope to have plenty to live on and give to the Lord. Mr. Carr and I have keenly felt our financial embarrassment, but remember we have told no one but you just how great is that embarrassment; keep it locked up in your own heart. Keep your health and strength for Tillie. She is the special charge God has given you. Keep your energy for her. Is she taking music lessons—or do you think she is still too young? Bless her heart! how I wish I could kiss her this minute! Tell Brother Capp to bring you eachHomiletic Review, after he has read it."
About this time, J. W. McGarvey, President of the Bible College of Kentucky University, wrote: "It gives me great pleasure to learn that Brother and Sister Carr have undertaken, in connection with the brethren of Sherman, to establish a female college of high grade in that city. Their removal to Texas will not only promote the educational interests of that State,—for which work, Sister Carr has eminent qualifications and experience,—but it will add very materially to its evangelizing force. Brother Carr has had a great deal of successful experience as an evangelist, and his skill in organizing churches for effective work is not inferior to his presentation of the Gospel. I wish them abundant success in their undertakings, not for their own sakes merely, but for the sake of the cause of truth."
Mrs. Carr's reference to money stringency may be explained by the fact that the payment of college lots did not fall due until the college building was actually begun. As our story advances, the reader must imagine the hundreds of attempts to find buyers for the lots, the hundreds of rebuffs, excuses, refusals, which cannot find place in this work, lest it sink under melancholy monotony.
April 4th, Mrs. Carr wrote from Farmington, Texas, "I don't want to write to you, I want to talk to you, face to face. Tell little Tillie to help you pray for our success in the college enterprise. Sherman takes 150 lots; and if we can sell 100 additional outside of Sherman; the thing is a success. May our Heavenly Father be with us, and speed the work of our hearts. If our Springfield property could be sold, it would be such a help. Tell Brother Capp if he can sell ten lots for us, we will thoroughly educate one of his daughters, board and all, free of charge. Several preachers here, and one in Kentucky, have undertaken this, and I believe they will succeed. If he will undertake this, let me know at once, and I will send him map of lots, picture of building, and all necessary information."
To this letter Mr. Carr adds a postscript: "We are in Grayson County, in the interests of the college. Mattie has lain down to read, after we had a talk about you, of the time which we hope will come, when, the college built, we shall have a home, and you and Tillie with us in the Sunny South. I had a visit from Brother J. D. McClure and his son-in-law from Iowa—where I had a vacation on leavingSpringfield. I wish you could know these people. They are the right kind. He wrote before coming, 'I shall be as proud to see you as if you were my own brother.' You may be sure I was proud to see these true men and to introduce them to Mattie. They are booked for five lots in the college enterprise. Remember our address is Sherman, Texas, and letters will be forwarded us, wherever we may be."
On October 10th, the following from the Sherman Soliciting Committee to Mrs. Carr, suggests some of her difficulties: "After a full discussion of the matter, the Soliciting Committee decides that it would be inopportune to try to sell the remainder of the College Park lots. It is thought best to defer this until after the November election; and, in fact, the opinion prevails among the majority of the Committee that it would be better, if possible, for you to finish selling your 100 lots, return to Sherman, report that you have carried out your part of the agreement, and that if Sherman does not come up to her part of the agreement, that you will proceed to go elsewhere with the college."
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr, January 13, 1893: "What a surprise to receive your card announcingthat you are in Kansas City and will go to Springfield before returning to Sherman! Still it's all right, if you can sell the lots. I have had a fearful time, I sold only three at Clarksville. We will have to take off the names of —— and ——, who say they cannot take their lots! All in all, I have sold 90 lots. Dear me! I have done my best, and have lost a great deal of time—rain and mud. I think we can close it up in about two weeks when you come. Sell all the lots you can, but do not delay, do not waste time. I don't believe any lots could be sold in Paris or Bonham. I tried faithfully. Joshua Burdette, son of Geo. Burdette of Clarksville, Texas, lives at Eufaula, Indian Territory. He is a member of the church and is making money; you might sell him a lot. Tell those Springfield preachers Jimmie Pinkerton" (son of our old favorite professor and doctor) "and John Hardin and Tom Capp, I say for them to put their names on your list for a lot each."
In short, one thinks of little but lots, these days; one dreams of lots; one writes always, speaks always, of lots. People must learn that these lots are for sale, they must be persuaded that the purchase of them is for individualgood, for educational enlargement, for the advancement of spiritual interests. The Carrs believe all this. Will others believe?
Fortunately others are found to enter heartily into the project.[18]But, as one might naturally expect, there is great opposition, which one always finds as the shadow to bright deeds. It would seem that no light can shine in the world without casting the shadow of opposing forces upon the ground. There are some who treat the Carrs with rude incivility; will buy no lots, and will, if possible, persuade others from buying.
On one occasion, Mrs. Carr was obliged to walk to the station from a distant farm-house—do you know those muddy Texas roads in the "Black Lands?"—because the farmer is opposed to buying the college lots; he watches her grimly as she makes her way along the difficult road, with no intention of offering his horses. We have before us letters written to Mrs. Carr by members of the church in good fellowship—men of recognized standing in their communities, and who, without doubt believethemselves to be excellent Christians. But alas! these letters, in refusing to buy the college lots, are not, as it would appear, the letters of gentlemen, so we must pass them by.
These were in truth times of pressing need. Mrs. Carr often found it best to walk that she might save the expense of a cab. The Carrs had just suffered a loss of $12,000 in property at Omaha. Often Mr. Carr was obliged to go hungry in his expeditions of lot-selling, and on his way to hold meetings. There were taxes to be paid on vacant property, interest to be found that borrowed money demanded, while traveling expenses were necessarily large.
"Will you please tell me where I can get a meal for twenty-five cents?" Mr. Carr inquired of a stranger in a town whither he had gone to lecture.
The man indicated a restaurant. Mr. Carr went away, but soon returned to the stranger, saying,
"Will you be so kind as to tell me where I could get the quarter?"
"Yes," was the glum response; "at the bank."
"And," said Mr. Carr, when referring to the incident, with a twinkle in his gray eye,"he wouldn't even promise to come to hear me lecture."
In the meantime Mrs. Carr was also traveling, in the prospects of her future college. "Wherever she went," one writes, "she carried good cheer and a blessing to that home. There she would give instruction, impart advice, there she would help with the sewing, and, with pleasure, would teach and care for the children."
But the thought that she should be thus financially embarrassed and placed in a dependent position, was most distressing to Mr. Carr. Yet there was no help for it, until the lots should have been sold. We do not dwell upon these days of heartache and suffering, to inspire remorse in the breast of anyone who offered obstacles to the great enterprise. We would, instead, pay a tribute to those who gave a welcome; who cheered up the way; who, instead of doubting the outcome, hoped for the best; who, instead of waiting for ultimate success, helped in time of need. It is he who smiles at his open door, who joins his song to that of the singer along life's highroad, and reaches out his hand to help, and waves to the departing traveler his confidence of victory,—heit is, who finds the world growing better. For the world is always growing better for him who makes it better for others. Those who helped the Carrs with friendship, and with a participation in their college-plans, cannot be named in this book; but we should like to think that those still living might read these lines, and each take them to himself.
January 30, 1893, Mr. and Mrs. Carr issued this typewritten manifesto to subscribers for lots:
"When you purchased one of the Christian College lots, we promised you that you would not be called on for the first payment before September, 1892. Because of Mrs. Carr's protracted suspension of the work, on account of sickness, the sale of lots has been, of course, retarded. We shall be ready, however, for the distribution of lots by March 1st, 1893, and write to you at this early date, that you may have ample time to arrange for making at that date theFIRST PAYMENT($100). Please make your draft of $100 payable to Hon. T. J. Brown and Judge H. O. Head, Trustees, Sherman, Texas, who will make you a deed to your lot. If you desire to pay all cash, and it will be best of course, if you can, send the draft for$200 (the full amount) payable to the said Trustees. We shall begin the college building by the middle of next March, and open the first session in September, 1893."
But if the reader supposes that all now glides smoothly forward, let him read this of May 20th: "The distribution of the Christian College lots has been unavoidably postponed until the first of July next, when itWILL POSITIVELY TAKE PLACEin the court house in Sherman, Texas, at 2 o'clock p. m.
O. A. Carr,M. F. Carr."
At last the ground is broken for the foundation of the college building, and Mrs. Carr proudly walks behind the plow, and guides it in the making of one long furrow. Can you not see her marching thus, grasping the handles with all her strength, her eyes aglow with the realization that she is digging deeper than a foundation of stone?
O. A. Bartholomew is called upon to undertake the construction of the building, July 27th. He shows hesitation and remarks—while our heads nod mechanically,Ah, how true!"I do not know what to say. The churches for which I have made the completestplans, have found the most fault. Especially, if I did not charge them much!" And we who have never built churches, yet feel like crying, Ah, yes, how true!
Let us pass over the months of sleepless nights, of anxious days. There was one matter that brought great hindrance to the scheme. It was currently reported that the college was merely a private enterprise of the Carrs, like any other private school; and the Carrs would reap all its advantages and profits: and that the claim that it was deeded to the church was a specious pretense made in order to induce people to buy lots. These charges were made, not by the enemies of education and Christianity, not by unfriendly denominations, but by the members of the Christian church; in other words, by the very body to whom the college was deeded, to be theirs forever.
This accusation had its staunch adherents, men who for years were ready to argue warmly, if not dispassionately, in its support. The fact that it could have been disproved by simply glancing at the records, seems to have lessened none of its force. It wrought much delay in selling the lots, and, after the college was built, it served to lessen the attendance. Carr-BurdetteCollege was, indeed, a free and loving gift,—given, one might almost say, in spite of the reluctance of the beneficiary, and held in his possession while he disclaimed its ownership.
It is not our wish to lessen the patient helpfulness of many of the members of the church. Had the Carrs worked themselves to death they could not have disposed of the lots, had not people been found to buy them. People there were found, as we have seen, who co-operated with the Carrs to the extent of their ability, and many of these were among the most illustrious of the Texan brotherhood. But for years, one might find at a general convention, the spirit of suspicion and hostility to Carr-Burdette College—as "Christian College" was finally named, and, at important committee meetings, it would be plainly declared that the college was a private enterprise and did not belong to the church.
But we will never get our college up at this rate. Let us pass on to the winter of 1893, which takes O. A. Carr once more to Kentucky. Who would ever have thought that the Kentucky boy of May's Lick, chalking his problems on his father's barn-door, would, at alater day, be going up and down his native State, selling college lots, and looking out for prospective pupils of his own? These pupils are for next year. The day for laying the corner-stone of the college, is to dawn while Mr. Carr is far away from Sherman.
On December 26th, Mrs. Carr writes to him: "I hope you will have a happy time with your kindred. I am very lonely without you; but it must be thus, until those twenty lots are sold. Necessity is a stern tyrant. But we have borne thus far, and we can bear a little longer. How happy we'll be, when we can be at home together all the time! The corner-stone will be laid New Year's Day at 3 p. m. I am dispatching you tonight to have your message in your own hand writing, to be read on the occasion, and it will be deposited in the bowl of the corner-stone. It is too bad you can't be here. This sacrifice should make a heart-appealing chapter in my book. Have your speech here without fail, in your own hand writing. Your message in your letter to me is beautiful, and I'll read that if necessary, but there are other things in that letter I don't want to go into the corner-stone. Suppose you send a dispatch, for fear your speech will not come intime. Do this at once. I send this to Maysville, and a copy to Carmel. A merry Christmas to all! How I wish I were with you!"
As to the "book" referred to, that, of course, is the "History of Carr-Burdette College;" the book which Mrs. Carr intends to write—after the college is built, of course; a book which will tell of almost superhuman struggles, of cruel sacrifices and, thank God! of words of love and cheer, and of final peace "in our home, where we shall live together." But the book was never written. Here and there among groups of old letters we find a document superscribed "Important," or, "For the Book"—and we know Mrs. Carr wrote that, with her mind upon some future day, when she would have time—time in her old age, the heat of battle dying away, and the calm of memory softening the past—a time that never came, elsethisbook would have had no being.
January 10, 1894, Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr: "I go to hold a meeting at Vanceburg, Kentucky. I am sorry I could not be at Sherman when the corner-stone was laid. Of course, it was laid right side up, with care; and as my wife is to see to it, I'm sure it will be well done. But it is too bad that I have to be away,causing you to work yourself down, and get sick. I am devoutly thankful to Sister Hildebrand for her care of you. Tell her she shall have her reward, by and by! I suppose the corner-stone was laid on the 7th—" sickness having made New Year's Day impossible. "I do hope you will excuse me for not sending a message worthy of the occasion. I wonder what you did with my poetry? If you planted it in the rock, I will have to get up something else for your Book. Look here! What did you think of that poetry? Perhaps there has been another delay of corner-stone ceremonies,—pshaw! if I could get into the spirit of it, I could write something, but I am so unsettled and so put out from not doing anything, that I can scarcely write a letter, to say nothing of writing what is to be left as a monument!"
The following, from Mr. Carr, January 24th, is a fitting trumpet-note with which to close the discords and harmonies of the college-overture: "I received a paper to-day—Picture of college is fine. Hurrah! Your address is grand—Just the thing! You are doing fine work."
That was, without a doubt, the proudest day in Mrs. Carr's life when she faced the expectant multitude, on the day of the corner-stone ceremonies, and told in simple words, the story of her striving and achievement. It was, in truth, the day most significant in her history.
She could cast her eyes over that plowed field, and in fancy see rising before her, the outlines of the college which she had designed as her monument. The money was all raised; never was Carr-Burdette to rest under the shadow of mortgage, or suspend payments.
Fresh in the minds of her audience were many instances of plans for the selling of lots to erect college buildings,—plans that had resulted in forced sales, spasmodic flickerings of uncertain life, and humiliating defeat. She and her husband had accomplished what well-organized boards and influential committees with fleet financial agents, had not been able to consummate. They had accomplished this, not because Texas felt a great educational want,—a vacuum in the intellectual thermometer,—but in spite of the fact that many Texansbelieved they had schools a-plenty. This they had accomplished, although misunderstood and misrepresented by different factions; although it was persistently denied that the property belonged to the church; and although the State papers, on more than one occasion, refused to print an advertisement of the enterprise.
Mrs. Carr did not rehearse these difficulties, save in general and mild terms. A record of her sad experiences was placed by her own hand in the dark recess of the corner-stone; but we, who are unable to hide our record in so sacred a receptacle, must be content to lay it before the public eye, with all good-will, and, we trust, all fairness. In her address, that January day of 1894, Mrs. Carr said:
"To sell 250 lots at $200 each and to collect the money, was the work to be accomplished in order to secure the college—a work that demanded enormous courage and indomitable will power and persistence. We struck out the word "fail," and all its derivatives from our vocabulary, and addressed ourselves to the task. We traveled in five different States; and, amid the distraction of the most intense political excitement and under the pressure of theseverest financial crisis the country has ever experienced since 1873, we completed the sale of the lots after nearly two long years of labor, worry and anxiety inexpressible. The way has been long and hard, but you have been kind to us and God has been with us. The corner-stone of our life-work is laid to-day; we behold the consummation of our heart's desire, and we feel generous towards all and profoundly grateful to our Heavenly Father for the many and devoted friends that He has given us to cheer us by their kind words and deeds when our burden seemed ofttimes greater than we could bear. The sacrifice that we have made and the trials and humiliations that we have endured are too sacred to be told, even in this paper that shall be hid in the silence and darkness of the corner-stone, whose peace the cyclonic onrush of the Twentieth Century may never disturb. They are known only to our own hearts and to God. But we count them all joy and would endure tenfold more if need be, because we believe that for the Christian girls who shall be educated here from generation to generation there shall work out a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. We are building, not for ourselves, but forcoming generations of girls. This thought has been from the beginning our inspiration and our strength; and it is useless to say that to donate this college to the Church of Christ in Texas for the education of the daughters of the South is the supremest happiness of our united lives. It is the child of our adoption, and to its interests we consecrate the best energies of our remaining years. Of all the glad New Years this is to me the gladdest. The only thing that disturbs the fitness and happiness of the hour is the unavoidable absence in Kentucky of my husband, who has labored so long and so faithfully under circumstances the most painful to "humor his wife (as he expresses it) in helping her to bring to a successful issue the pet scheme of her life." But a gladder time is yet before us—the Jubilee Opening next September, 1894, of the completed college—when it shall be lighted by the faces of happy girls, and when Mr. Carr will participate in person as well as in spirit, and nothing will be lacking to perfect our joy in the crowning work of our lives. And best of all, the years of blessed work that shall follow! Oh, I pray that our Heavenly Father may give us health and strength, andlength of days, and that the fruits of our labors may be abundant; so
'That when our summons comes to joinThe innumerable caravan that movesTo that mysterious realm where each shall takeHis chamber in the silent halls of death,We go, not like the quarry-slave at night,Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothedBy an unfaltering trust, approach our graveLike one who wraps the drapery of his couchAbout him and lies down to pleasant dreams.'"
But was the work now ended? It was only about to begin; all else had been preparation. But how different to work in uncertainty, and to work in confidence!
There were the catalogues to be thought of, and notices in the papers to be judiciously given out, and furniture to be bought, and trees, and shrubbery, and pianos, and charts, and all things else needful to college life. Above all, there is the building itself to be erected.
And, of course, many who have subscribed for lots do not want to pay for them, when paytime comes due,—and are indignant at being held to their bond, and say bitter things, and spread unkind rumors. And some have to be excused from paying interest, else they will pay nothing; and some move away, one knows not whither!
"Mrs. O. A. Carr is in the city," says a dailypaper. "Carr-Burdette Christian College at Sherman will open in September. The college has been donated to the Christian churches in the State, but will be open to all denominations. Mr. and Mrs. Carr are doing much for the educational interests of Texas, and their philanthropic devotion to this interest sets an example which we hope will be emulated."
"The College is Built at Last."—Carr-Burdette."The College is Built at Last."—Carr-Burdette.
Mrs. Carr clips the foregoing and sends it to theGospel Advocate, hoping they will reproduce all, or a part, of the "local".
"My dear Sister," says theGospel Advocate—it is in August of the corner-stone year, "it is our settled policy not to advertise one school more than another. We do not see any reason why we should advertise the Carr-Burdette College any more than the Add Rann College. There are a number of good schools controlled by the brethren, to whom we have never given free advertisement. Yours truly and fraternally—" Very fraternally, without doubt. So Mrs. Carr may be in our city as often as she pleases, and she and her husband do all they can, for a dozen colleges, but we mustn't mention the fact; such is our policy!
John A. Brooks, pastor of the Christian church at Memphis, writes to Mr. and Mrs.Carr: "I am pleased to see that you are about to open a female school in Sherman. I know your education and character are such as to commend you to the public as most competent teachers. Most heartily I wish you both a successful voyage on the sea of life."
This from Palestine, Texas, July 13th, to Mrs. Carr, is a voice from the camp of misconception: "I have read your letter with much interest. I accord to you the purest and best motives in your work, and believe you to be a noble woman. But it is reported, on good authority, that you and Brother Carr are not in sympathy with our work in Texas, the United States and abroad. I shall not enter the lists against you and your work, however—I shall attend to my own business, which will keep me busy enough * * * Fraternally yours—"
That word "Fraternally," which we find closing so many bitter and discourteous letters, seems to be used as a parting blow. They all write "Fraternally"—that stereotyped phrase of a stereotyped brotherhood! But the present biographer feels indeed fraternally toward these indignant and suspicious and mistakenletter-writers, and shall prove it by reproducing none of their letters.
For these writers who were so warmly "fraternal" did not understand, and seemingly would not understand, that the Carrs had deeded the college and the extensive grounds to the Church; that the Carrs furnished the buildings throughout, at their own expense, to present them to the Church fully and beautifully equipped; that the Carrs had insured, and would keep insured, the buildings, not for themselves, but for the Church; that they did not, and never would, receive a penny of money-contributions from anyone; and that this Carr-Burdette College, this monument to Mrs. Carr, was given to the Church as the most priceless gift in her possession, to the cause dearest to her heart.
In the meantime, college-work did not wholly absorb the life of this busy woman. Here comes a letter from the Christian Woman's Board of Missions in Missouri; the state-secretary, at this time, is Mrs. Elizabeth Bantz. Mrs. Bantz writes:
"This year marks the twenty-fifth year of the C. W. B. M. in Missouri—1894. My board has authorized me to issue an historicalsketch of the work. We are publishing the faces of many of those who served us officially. We want your picture for this book. Please, my dear sister, send me a half-tone cut, as soon as possible."
Mrs. A. B. Jones of Liberty, Mo., seconds the request: "I have been asked to write an historical sketch of our C. W. B. M. for a book which our state secretary is preparing for our 25th anniversary. We want our state officers from the time of our organization. Will you kindly send a photo, or cut, to Mrs. Bantz at St. Louis? I would be so glad to have a picture of yourself and Brother Carr. Both of you are lovingly remembered by us."
Now that the college is built at last, and Mr. and Mrs. Carr have assumed its management, the story of their lives enters the peaceful channel of daily service together.
A few events of distinction stand out from among the minor affairs of fourteen years. The incessant work in the school room, the canvassing tours during vacations,—involving lectures with the stereopticon,—the correspondence with new pupils, old pupils and prospective pupils, the worrying over misunderstandings and misrepresentations; the struggleagainst prejudice, and jealousy; the sweet companionship with each other, and with congenial friends—all this is the story of daily living, that does not belong to the world of books.
Let the reader imagine the interlinked events of these fourteen years—the fourteen years that followed the accomplishment of Mrs. Carr's life-work. The honors bestowed upon her and her girls at the Confederate Reunion at New Orleans, and at the World's Fair at St. Louis, may be found fully described in the great daily papers of those days. The mass of printed programs that lie before me tell of brilliant success before the footlights—and hint at long hours of nerve-racking rehearsals. And here are confessions of school-girls who have done wrong, and who ask to be forgiven; and other letters which wound cruelly and do not ask for pardon. But shall we not forgive all? And how can we forgive, if we do not forget?
Upon my table lies documents from disobedient pupils of Carr-Burdette College, ungrateful pupils, narrow-minded pupils, and parents naturally championing the cause of their daughters—in which, all these stand self-accused. Here is one who has discovered how unjust were charges she had made againstthe Carrs—but not until she had spread those reports to willing ears. And here is one who asks with tears that she may be forgiven; but who laments that the harm she has done can never be overcome.
But what of it all, now! I should not mention these things if it were not for this: that the evil reports live in some minds and, no doubt, are handed down to strangers. Here are the refutations to several such reports, but we push them aside. Can falsehood wound beyond the grave?
Nor would we expose anyone to shame by bringing her name upon the printed page, with quotations of her own rash words. There is no punishment for a malicious nature so terrible as the vengeance of its own malice which reacts upon itself, dwarfing, embittering, deadening the higher capabilities of the soul that harbors it. He who took the snake to his warm hearth to nourish it to life, is not he who suffers from the ingratitude of a friend, but rather he who admits hate to warm it in his own bosom; for it wounds him, first of all.
Fourteen years of labor in the work Mrs. Carr loved best, amid surroundings best adapted to call forth one's greatest capabilities,and then—the last journey. The school year of 1907-8 had opened prosperously. September passed, and in the warmth of its haze, and in the tender blue of its Texan sky, there was no hint that its sister-month would bring the chill of death.
It was on the thirty-first of October that there came the summons of which she had spoken in her dedicatory speech. Not, indeed, as a quarry slave, scourged to his dungeon, did she go to meet that call, but rather as one who had followed her Lord across the seas, who had dwelt with him in many lands, and who was now to abide with Him forever.
He who was left behind, dwells in the lofty halls her wisdom and her love fashioned out of brick and stone. The great work of her life is continued by President O. A. Carr, and when one visits that "College Beautiful," that "College Home," tapestries and statuary, pictures and mosaics, engravings and flowers—all seem instinct with the presence of Mrs. Carr.
One passes through spacious reception-rooms and ample halls, into parlors of refined and exquisite workmanship. Yonder is the winding stairway, with its "Cosy Nook" behind the ferns. Here is the library with its cheerfulhearth. Nothing is to be seen to suggest Latin and Geometry! It is, first of all, a home for young ladies.
But when we are shown the mystic way that leads to schoolrooms, we find them stript, as it were, for service. Here is little or no adornment. They are placed before us in stern reality—desk and blackboard and floor—with no pretense that knowledge walks on velvet carpets. In this wing, we find ourselves indeed in a school; and we feel instinctively that if we do not immediately fall to, at some difficult textbook, we have no business here, and should be sent home to our parents.
And that is just what Mrs. Carr would have done for us. Education had always for her, meant something serious, something life-long, something to become an integral part of one's character. First, Carr-Burdette College is to be ahomein which young ladies are to be taught conduct and hygiene; but it is aCollegeHome, where study is not play, any more than play is study. We cannot determine where we feel Mrs. Carr's influence stronger—whether in these unadorned schoolrooms, or in the luxurious parlors. Taken together, they typify the extremes of her character. She sought to buildin every soul that came under her moulding touch, the firm foundation of eternal truth; and upon this foundation to erect a structure traced with all the beauty of eternal love.
"He Who was Left Behind.""He Who was Left Behind."
THE END
Our mother made our clothes from the same piece, which, for many years, was her own weaving; and our resemblance was such in childhood that many thought we were twins. For sixteen years we were together day and night—in the field, in the school-room, in the home. "Bud and Ol.," our familiar names, were pronounced together, and the presence of one suggested the other. Our separation came when I said good-by to go to Kentucky University, and then to the other side of the earth. I can even now recall my feelings when I would go into Fitzroy Gardens, Melbourne, Australia, where, alone, I would read Owen's letters over and over. Though himself not a preacher, he came as near as any one I ever knew to an identification of his life with the lives of those who preach the word.
After my return from Australia it was our happiness to go together to a church composed of many whom I baptized when I began preaching forty-five years ago, some of them our relatives. The building was within a mile of where we were born, and near the site of the first school-house we ever entered. There were the boys and girls with whom we played in childhood, heads of families now. Such an audience was an inspiration to me, and especially the presence of "Bud." I ever felt that I could preach better when he was hearing. We went over the familiar roads planning a meeting to be held when the weather would permit, and I thought this happiness would be mine, but alas! there came the telegram: "Bud is very sick, come at once." We all came to him, except one brother who was far away. There were the chairs my mother used, my father's desk, the little chair in which I sat in earliest childhood, and the pictures on the wall of those whom my brother loved. There, amid all to remind me of early days, I took my seat beside him with the sad duty on me to report to the physician his pulse and fever day and night. What was revealed by his tearful eyes fixedupon us can never be put in a book; but when the physician told him he must die, he simply said "I am ready."
With the exception of a short sojourn in Missouri and Illinois Owen spent his life in Kentucky, at May's Lick, also at Lexington, Maysville and Mt. Carmel. The call for a young man who neither blasphemed nor drank secured for him his first business engagement at Lexington. He was engaged in Maysville many years, and he spent his earnings in helping our afflicted parents; and from the needy he never turned away. After the death of father and mother, Owen made his home with his sister, Mary E. Goddard, near Mt. Carmel, whence he was called to go up higher, Thursday, January 14, 1902.
Owen Carr was a Christian. His life was very quiet, but useful. His faith was simple, his convictions were strong and he was true to them. To maintain what he held to be truth I believe he would have laid down his life. Yes, he did this in effect, toiling for the good of others, bearing heavy burdens of suffering, fulfilling his mission to the family, in the community, in the church. How can I speak his praise? Does he know, now, how we all loved him? No words could ever tell it.
A companion wrote: "Though our association was not long at any one time, yet he was so transparent and companionable that in a short time I knew Owen Carr well. He was one of the few men in the world that I really loved ardently; and I have his obituary on the 'Treasure page' of my little scrap book. He was the divinest and sweetest impersonation of unostentatious unselfishness and of transparent honesty and integrity that I ever knew among men.
J. H. M."
"Not of the blood," though they were Englishmen: "nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man", and yet the Myalls, Eneas, Jonas, George and Edward, stand in memory asNOBLE MEN. In the days of their activity, their motto seemed to be: "We will do more than any others". Ofthese four men two—Jonas at May's Lick, and Edward, at Maysville, Kentucky—still live, and they are my witnesses. Eneas and Jonas Myall were blacksmiths; and they shod one hundred mules in a day, at a time when mules were driven overland to market! Energy, perseverance, generosity characterized these men—each in his own way.—Remembrance of them has been with me and has been presented to the young men in many lands and on both sides of the earth.
Of Eneas Myall Longfellow's words in "THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH" are true in almost every line.
If money was to be raised for benevolent purposes Eneas Myall was the one to secure it; for he headed the list with a liberal offering, and while others did the talking, he did the work. He was more eloquent in deed than they were in speech: hence May's Lick church was in the lead of all churches in that part of the country in expenditures at home and abroad. As a deacon in the church he was well nigh perfection. I have never seen a better.
His constancy made him great in usefulness. For more than sixty years he led the songs in the May's Lick church. For a period of twenty years he was never known to be absent from the meeting on Lord's day morning and night and the Wednesday night prayer meeting except on one occasion, when he went to Paris to see his sick brother. His best singing was done, as it seems, on occasions when the boy, his protege, was in the pulpit. Such singing is seldom heard now-a-days as was heard when these men, Ed., George, Jonas and Eneas Myall sang together with Eneas to lead. There was only one occasion, as I remember, when Eneas Myall could not sing, and that was the morning when my father came forward to confess his faith in Jesus. He wept for joy; but could not talk—could not sing. The circumstances seemed to me to magnify his sincerity; for it was just at the close of the war. Eneas Myall was of strong prejudice, and he was opposed to my father politically, but the welcome he extended seemed to say: we differ out yonder in the world where political troubles are, and war rages; but here, in the church, there is peace, and we have fellowship. When I took my father down into the water to bury him with Christin baptism, Eneas Myall had recovered himself so as to sing:
"How happy are they, who their Savior obey."
It is not strange that a man possessed of such firmness, such perseverance and such energy should become wealthy. His earnings increased: He sowed with an unsparing hand, and he reaped bountifully. Wealth did not make him proud nor dry up the fountain of his generosity. He seemed never so happy as when he was dividing what he possessed with his friends. When he and his good wife, "aunt Sallie" would spread the banquet, and he would gather all the preachers he could find and those who loved such company to his house, and around the table where he presided, what a feast for body and soul was there! What preacher who has ever been at May's Lick does not remember Eneas Myall and his family? He has gone; and shall we ever see his like again? Before him across the silent river had passed his faithful wife and the elders of the May's Lick church, as nearly models, as mortals could be expected to be, of what the Scriptures say of bishops, elders, pastors. What a church that was! over which Aaron Mitchell, Waller Small and Benjamin James presided, and taught by precept and example and led and protected, in those days when Walter Scott did the preaching and Eneas Myall led in song!
"A sheep can never become a goat!" True of the woolly quadruped but this fact is no reply to my sermon; for the Savior was not talking about animals. He meant people when he said "My sheep hear my voice and follow me". That is what sheep (animals) do; hence people who hear his voice and follow him he calls his sheep; and says "they shall never perish". Who? His sheep; that is, people who hear his voice and follow him. If they should cease to hear his voice and follow they would cease to be his sheep and the Savior did not say of such, "they shall never perish."
But were they his sheep before they heard his voice.
They might have been called "sheep" on account of some other resemblance, such as proneness to wander away, needof guidance, of protection; but for these reasons it would not be true of them that "they shall never perish". It is certain that they would perish; hence the Great Good Shepherd came and called them home, saved and protected them.
If you say they were his sheep because he died for them—"laid down his life for the sheep", I answer: He called them his sheep before he laid down his life for them; and when he died it was not for them alone but "he died for all".
The truth is that the characteristic of sheep, to hear and follow, is possessed by all mankind; and whose sheep they are depends upon whose voice they hear and whom they follow. They are not the Savior's sheep unless they hearHISvoice and followHIM. When persons do turn away from other voices and give heed toHISthey becomeHISsheep. Would you say, this is not true, and give as a reason, "aGOATcan never become aSHEEP?" As well say this as to say "a sheep can never become a goat" as a proof that a believer may not, can not, cease to be a believer.
The one expression is fate fixed as fatally as is the other; and neither of them contains any Scripture idea.
TheTrialwas unique. The purpose was to determine whether I should be permitted to use their baptistry; and this depended on whether I was sound on what they called "the design of the ordinance." There were the officers of the Baptist Church to hear and a lawyer to ask questions. He put them in such a way that each question could be answered by simply quoting the Scripture; and that was happy; it was right, too, whether he intended it or not: "What do you believe baptism is for—what purpose has it?" Answer. "Repent and be baptized—in the name of Jesus the ChristFORthe remission of sins, and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." Acts 2:38.
"Do you regard it as a saving ordinance?" Answer—"He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved." Mark 16:15-16.
"Yes, we believe that: of course, we believe the Scriptures, but what doYOU THINK? Do you think a person cannot be saved without baptism?" Answer—"I think just what the Savior says: 'He that believeth and is baptized shall besaved.' It is not my privilege toTHINKanything except what the Savior said, and what his Apostles preached and practiced. Aside from this I have no ability to think; for I have nothing to think about." "Well, our Savior says: 'he that believeth not shall be damned' and he does not say he that believeth not and is not baptized shall be damned." "Does not this show that baptism is not necessary to salvation, that it is not a saving ordinance?" Answer—"Baptism is not named in that clause, hence, we cannot think what that clause says and have baptism in mind at all; since it is not there. The way to be saved, Jesus says, is: 'he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved;' but the way to be damned, he says, is, 'he that believeth not shall be damned.' I think just what the Savior says on the subject ofDAMNATION; and I think just what he says on the subject ofSALVATION."
Then Brother Jones, a Baptist, addressed the meeting in substance thus: "Brethren, I have heard every sermon our young brother has preached in Hobart, and I have found no fault with it. He says just what the Scriptures say, and surely you cannot refuse that. You heard the sermon on, 'What must I do to be saved'"? Then Brother Jones gave an outline of that sermon—the first I had ever heard that I understood—heard it from W. T. Moore at May's Lick, Ky., and from him I learned how to preach it. Thereupon a good man of the company of Baptists arose and said: "I would rather give up my life than countenanceFREE-GRACEpreaching." I did not want him to give up his life, and so the interview ended with my resolution not to use the baptistry; I would use the public baths instead.
A letter to be read between the lines. "Melbourne, Australia, September 5, 1909."
"Dear Brother Carr:
"Father wishes me to express to you how very sorry he was to hear of Mrs. Carr's death, and how deeply he wasmoved by the touching references to and description of her beautiful life and character. She, indeed, was a wonderful woman, and must be sorely missed by many. It must be a terrible blank in your home and we deeply feel for you. Father felt it very much and very often spoke of her. Indeed, I felt it too. My mind goes back to my school days when my sister, Eliza (now gone many years) and I attended Mrs. Carr's school in Melbourne. I was then but a little fellow—about eleven years of age—(I am now forty-five and have three children.) It was a school for young ladies, but four of us boys were allowed to go—George Thomson, Willie Robinson, Willie Church and myself—and many a heart ache, I think, we boys gave Mrs. Carr. I can remember that Mrs. Carr put me in a room by myself for fighting Willie Church. I was in terrible disgrace that day; and I remember you came into the room and asked me what I had been doing. I told you I had been fighting Willie Church; for which you gave me to understand how naughty it was to fight. Then, I think, you were sorry for me, and said: 'Never mind Nat., we will have some fun,' which we did; and in the midst of it all Mrs. Carr came in and we both got in for it. The poor dear lady was doing what she thought best for me, and instead of punishment I was having a good time, with you. However, she was always very, very kind. I do not know that during my young life anyone so impressed me as the dear soul that has gone from us all; and I see by the book you sent us that I am not alone in this respect.
"The Church at Lygon Street is still to the fore. What delight it would give us all in Melbourne if you could manage to pay us a visit! Would it be possible for you to do so? You know the distance now is not so great as when you were here. The trip would do you good; and you could stay at my house (and we would have some fun.) The fine, grand steamers now running out to Australia should tempt you, and what a pleasure it would give us all to know that you were coming—won't you come?