Nat. Haddow."
The admonition, so impressive then, and needed always, caused the revision of many a manuscript from that time on. "That which offends will never convince." But then, when one's position is assailed, the very assault is considered an offense: such is human nature. Few are sufficiently civilized to discuss religious differences and at the same time "avoid all offense;" for each one holds his religious position as sacred, whereas, it is sacred only when it is true, when it is divine.
The Rev. James Ballantyne, a prominent preacher in Melbourne, had issued a tract. It was no offense for him so to do: it was right—even noble from his view of it. But did he present the truth? was the question, and it is the question even now, and ought to be inquired into by everyone. To help in this it was resolved that aREPLYbe issued. To "avoid all offense" Mrs. Carr was requested to go over the manuscript word by word. What she approved it is hoped will not be an "offense" to the reader. The language of the author was quoted, his very words, and the reply followed each paragraph, thus:
"BAPTISM"—"ITS ORIGIN."
"It is not of man, but of God. Jesus Christ himself instituted it. We find it in the apostolic commission, 'Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in (into) the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.'"
True.
"ITS DESIGN."
"It represents and seals the union of the soul with Christ. It is the pledge that all covenant blessings will be bestowed. It is the visible sign of our engagement to be Christ's, by receiving him in faith, and laying ourselves on the altar of his service. It is our initiation into the membership of the visible Church. It is the badge of our public Christian profession, proclaiming our separation from the world and our union with all who bear the name of Jesus."
The above is in substance, what the presbyterian Confession of Faith says, instead of what the Biblesays is the design of Baptism. Whoever read in the Bible that Baptism is a sign or a seal, or a symbol of anything? Paul says, "Ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit," Eph. 1:13 and 4:30. The Rev. Ballantyne says, BAPTISM is the seal. The object of his tract, as stated in his preface was to utter a warning word to the young, not to let feeling take the precedence of enlightened conviction, and not to make TOO MUCH of Baptism. And this is the way he begins: By putting Baptism in the place of the Holy Spirit, and by making Baptism seal the union of the soul with Christ. Remember this: "Ye ardent and impulsive minds" what saith the scripture on the design of Baptism, "Thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness," Mat. 3:15; "He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved," Mark 16:16; "Repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus the Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit," Acts 2:38; "As many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ," Gal. 3:27. Baptism is a Bible theme, And why not write about it in Bible language?
"The words do not declare that Faith must go before Baptism. The Greek word translatedBAPTIZEDis baptistheis. The proper meaning of this is,HAVING BEEN BAPTIZED. Anyone who knows the parts of the Greek verb knows this. The passage, then, reads thus: 'He that believeth, having been baptized, shall be saved.' So then, after all, the passage is just as favorable to infant baptism as any passage could be."
Baptistheis means having been baptized. This is STRICTLY TRUE. It is also strictly true that "Pisteusas" is the first aorist participle, and literally means HAVING BELIEVED. "Anyone who knows the parts of the Greek verb knows this." The passage,then, reads thus: "He having believed, and having been baptized shall be saved." So, then, after all, the passage is just asUNSUITABLE TO INFANT BAPTISM AS ANY PASSAGE COULD BE.
How often do we recall the mornings dear Mrs. Carr called us into the study hall, or kept us in the dining room to give us those sweet, motherly 'little talks.' How often her words come to us as we see her standing there among us, and, in her gentle, tactful way, a way which belonged only to her, telling us and advising us about those little things which play such important part in the formation of habits and character.
Well do we all remember the little talk about the dirt's being swept into the corner, or left behind the door; how that in time such habits would tell upon our characters; that a neatly kept room was but an expression of a girl's inner self.
Her precious words we treasure in our hearts and value beyond all price. How often have we heard her say: "My dear girls, this I say for your good. It may be hard for you to receive it, and you may not know now the value of it; but you will know in after life." And then would follow those talks about decorum. "Think nothing, do nothing that you would be ashamed for your father and mother to know. Write nothing to your intimate friend that would not bear the light. Admit nothing here into your college home that would defile. Carr-Burdette College is the child of my brain and heart, dedicated to you. Our home is our castle, and let us guard it sacredly. Character is everything in a young lady's life; knowledge is good, but the wisdom which is from above is best. I know that some of you girls think I am exacting, think that I am too strict; but you will know hereafter that your best friend is the one who tells you kindly of your faults and helps you to correct them; and you will be grateful after awhile for having given heed to many things that you do not like now. You will say in your hearts: 'I see now that Mrs. Carr was right, and I am glad she saidNOto many of my wishes and warned me against so many little things that tempted me.' I would deny you nothing you want except those things that I think will injure you. I am sleepless at night, thinking of you, planning for your good, how I can best discharge the weighty responsibility that is on me."
She was happiest when she knew she was pleasing us, would join in our merry-making, and laugh aloud at our pranks. To reward us was her delight. What happy talks she made when she bestowed medals and honors! Talks, sparkling with wit and glowing with love and enthusiasm, on that last night of the session before we all went home. She is on the rostrum, the medals in their cases are on the stand; she takes them up, displays them to the audience, one by one, and talks about each, its meaning, what it is for, talks to the audience about the girl who is to receive it and who could ever equal her grace of diction and whole-souled sympathy? How she kept the audience in suspense, in excitement; how she amused all by her wit, and then, with tearful joy, pinned the medal on the girl whom she called to the rostrum to receive it. Holding up the house-keeper's medal, she would say to the audience: "This medal I esteem the best of all; the best house-keeper is to be the most honored. To be neat, to be orderly, to show ability to keep a home, to mind the little things that make for neatness, to sweep in the corners, to be tasteful—all this is to be lovely in conduct; and, remember, that all honors of every kind bestowed by Carr-Burdette College have this meaning namely, every medal, every diploma is hedged about by conduct."
"Carr-Burdette College, Sherman, Texas, is the monument to the memory of my dear departed wife. She gave the last thirteen years of her life to the college. I feel that she literally sacrificed her life in the accomplishment of her high purpose; for I know she toiled beyond her strength, forgetful of self. She conceived of building the college as a Home and School for young women, and of how the fundswere to be secured. She planned the building, which was erected under her immediate supervision, and there is not an idea in it that is not hers. She devised and toiled to within a few days of her death, and expended all earnings on the college, that she might attain her ideal.
According to her heart's desire that the college should never suspend its work, and that her purposes may be carried out as nearly as possible, I, with the assistance of able and devoted teachers, continue the struggle. I can not do the work my dear wife did; nor do I think that any one else could do what she has been doing all these years; but an honest effort will be made to accomplish her purpose—that Carr-Burdette College may continue to be herIDEAL, as it is now herMONUMENT.
Saturday, October 26, 1907, on her return from shopping with some of the students, I offered to assist Mattie with the writing. She said: "I am not able to think now; I must rest." The next day she was unable to rise. The physician pronounced the trouble lagrippe, and he assured me, even at noon, Thursday, that she would recover. Alas! at 7:30 p. m. the same day, death came. There was no symptom of suffering. She seemed to be sleeping.
The loving hands of students and teachers and kind friends arranged all for the funeral—the first public assembly held in the college over which she did not preside and direct in detail. Her lifeless body lay in her own beautiful college parlor, where the funeral was conducted by Brother J. H. Fuller and Brother A. O. Riall assisted by Brother R. D. Smith, and Dr. Clyce, President of Austin College. Mattie told me years ago that she wished Brother Graham, with whom she was associated at Hamilton College, and Brother McGarvey, to preach her funeral; but Brother Graham had gone where there are no funerals, and Brother McGarvey could not be here. The students in a line of march descended the stairway, preceded by a young girl in white, who bore their beautiful floral offering. They stood on either side of the casket and sang (1) "Some Day", (2) "Going Home", (3) "My Savior First of All", (4) "I Am Only Waiting Here", (5) "Sweet By and By."
One who knew Mattie well wrote me years ago, saying, "I know of no one who can show a more valid claim thanyourself to have a living commentary on the last chapter of Proverbs". That chapter was read from the twelfth verse to the conclusion, by Brother Smith, and Brother Fuller chose as the text for his beautiful, hopeful discourse, "The gift of God is eternal life, through our Lord Jesus the Christ".
For nearly forty years Mattie and I have toiled together. She took responsibility, financial and domestic from me, and bore it herself. I trusted to her judgment, and felt that all was well when she approved. And now, at night, I sit alone where we used to sit together. I look around to see her, but see only her empty chair."
Mattie's Grave.Mattie's Grave.
FOOTNOTES:[1]That "drill in Rhetoric, in English pure and undefiled" when she analyzed and parsed every sentence of the Manuscript read to the class Mrs. Carr often spoke of, and of John Smith who, in his last days, abode at Daughters' College to furnish material for his biography. She was always proud of the fact that John Augustus Williams taught her English.[2]See appendix.[3]See appendix.[4]"These boys," Garrett S. Wall (now Judge Wall, of Maysville, Ky.), Jacob Riley, Anthony Latham and O. A. Carr, all from May's Lick, had lively discussion on the way. "Which church is right?" was the awkward way the talk went on: Garrett explained Jacob's Theological puzzles: Oliver presented the points in that first sermon he ever heard that he understood, and to him the Scripture statements were plain: Anthony, true son of "Calvin", dwelt on the "decrees". These boys were going to be taught, and Anthony seemed willing that the "Spirit should guide him into all truth" provided it did not make a Campbellite of him; for he knew that was wrong religion. The count stood—three against one, and in boy fashion it was claimed that if "what is to be will be" Anthony ought to be satisfied.O. A. C.[5]When first I saw the following lines, I called Mattie to hear me read them to her. I thought of her "CHILDREN," the girls she had taught. We were seated in her private parlor; and her attention was fixed from the first stanza: "Shedding sunshine of love on my face." The reading ended, she threw herself on the bed and wept aloud. Her feelings, when fully aroused, were paroxysms of joy or grief; and now the two alternated as memory of her first school at Lancaster, and of the girls on the other side of the earth, at Melbourne, mingled with all her life of love for "THE CHILDREN." She made notes when she read Milton, Spencer, Mrs. Browning, Longfellow, Tennison, but this little poem was literally bathed in her tears.O. A. C.When the lessons and tasks are all endedAnd the school for the day is dismissed,And the little ones gather around me,To bid me good night and be kissed;Oh, the little white arms that encircleMy neck in a tender embrace!On, the smiles that are halos of heavenShedding sunshine of love on my face!And when they are gone I sit dreamingOf my childhood—too lovely to last;Of love that my heart will rememberWhen it wakes to the pulse of the past,Ere the world and its wickedness made me,A partner of sorrow and of sinWhen the glory of God was about me,And the glory of gladness within.Oh, my heart grows weak as a woman'sAnd the fountains of feeling will flow,When I think of the paths steep and stony,Where the feet of the dear ones must go;Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them,Of the tempest of fate blowing wild;Oh, there's nothing on earth half so holyAs the innocent heart of a child.They are idols of hearts and of households,They are angels of God in disguise;His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,His glory still beams in their eyes;Oh, those truants from home and from heaven,They have made me more manly and mild—And I know how Jesus could likenThe kingdom of God to a child.I ask not a life for the dear ones,All radiant, as others have done;But that life may have just enough shadowTo temper the glare of the sun;I would pray God to guard them from evil,But my prayer would bound back to myself.Ah! a seraph may pray for a sinner,But a sinner must pray for himself.The twig is so easily bendedI have banished the rule and the rod;I have taught them the goodness of knowledgeThey have taught me the goodness of God:My heart is a dungeon of darkness,Where I shut them for breaking a rule;My frown is sufficient correction;My love is the law of the school.I shall leave the old home in the Autumn,To traverse its threshold no more;Ah! how shall I sigh for the dear ones,That met me each morn at the door;I shall miss the goodnights and the kisses.And the gush of their innocent glee,The group on the green and the flowersThat are brought every morning to me.I shall miss them at morn and at eve,The song in the school and the street;I shall miss the low hum of their voices,And the tramp of their delicate feet—When the lessons and tasks are all ended,And death says: "The school is dismissed"May the little ones gather around meTo bid me good night and be kissed.[6]I must have preached "big sermons" in these days; for Brother Benjamin Coleman saw to it that I received $25.00 each time I went to Macedonia. No thanks to him and the church, their contribution was to help me through College.O. A. C.[7]Just then, it seemed that every one on the ship "cared": That drunken, card-playing priest proposed to say "mass for the poor boy's soul"; but Captain Myles said: "None of your foolishness here". I could not escape the thought that he would have "read mass", if it had been in the Prayer-book, whether foolishness or not; for the ship's Captain is ordained to read the church service, or to appoint some one to read it. That desire to do something, springing from a feeling of helplessness and grief seems natural to mortals and cries out most pitilessly when faith is absent. I doubt not it was as sincere as any prayer ever uttered when Luther wanted to "say mass for the soul" of his mother. I had seen the poor boy cuffed about deck, driven to his hard task, beaten with a broom, and had remonstrated in vain. Between the priest with his rollicking ditties, gambling and drunkenness and the boy there was a great gulf fixed on that ship. "No association with second-class passengers" was the edict; and was not the priest first-class? and the boy, what was he? He had hidden himself among the boxes in the ship's hold at Liverpool to be taken any where, perhaps, out of the world, and so it was. That boy, that scene, what led to it and what followed, Mrs. Carr never forgot—"A neglected one, a prodigal, it may have been, but still a human; he needed something other than sacerdotal robes to show him that you are the servants of the Most High." Yes, she "cared" and so do I, even to this day.O. A. C.[8]Martin Zelius, happy man! About the time Eneas Myall was seeking work and found it at May's Lick, Kentucky, Martin Zelius stood in the streets of Melbourne, wondering to what he should turn his hand. He turned his eye and saw across the street a flaming placard: "Evangelist from America, H. S. Earl, will preach in St. George's Hall," etc. "No where to go," he thought to himself, "I will go hear that man." He was charmed with what he heard, and soon became obedient to the faith. He entered upon a business life in which his success was marvelous: everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. Whole-souled, enthusiastic, he stood before the church and asked the privilege of sending from his own earnings the money to pay the expenses of the evangelists from America. One night, when he had come from church he learned that a brother was aggrieved at him: he hired a "cab", drove across the city to that Brother's home, called him from his bed out to talk with him alone, and broached the matter in such a way that the Brother said: "O, it was a trifle, I should not have mentioned; I am ashamed of myself because I did. Is it possible that you have come all this distance to talk about that?" "Why, yes," said Martin Zelius, "our Savior said, 'if thou bring thy gift to the altar and there remember that thy Brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift; go be reconciled to thy Brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' I could not pray to-night until I came to see you, and know what I had done to offend you." "Well, I always thought a great deal of you, but more now than ever." Forgiven and happy he goes home, at peace with all the world.His wife, fit companion for such a man, of meek and quiet spirit, entered into fullest sympathy with Mrs. Carr, understood her, knew her and loved her. She entreated Mrs. Carr to visit her daughter in California and arrangements were made to do so, to start in two weeks (in November, 1907); but in five days she had gone to the eternal home.O. A. C.[9]See appendix.[10]Alexander T. Magarey and Vaney J. Magarey were sons of Thomas Magarey, M. P., of South Australia. They made their home with us while attending the University of Melbourne. Two more congenial spirits I never met; nor better students. Then, too, they were Christians from very love of the Savior, and delighted in the truths of the Gospel. They were very intelligent in the Scriptures. After my return from Australia Alex. visited me in Kentucky. It was my delight to take him among my kindred; for he and his brother seemed to me like one of my own family, and to present him to the Brethren as a specimen of what sort could be found in Australia. The memory of him, his father, brother and the Magarey family is very precious. Alex. would have me take him to see the mother of Brother Be. sley who went to Australia, came home an invalid and died of consumption: he must weep with that mother and see the grave of that young man: he must see those—teachers and preachers—of whom he had read; he wanted to take them all by the hand, and such a hand grasp as he gave was remembered. We were sitting together in the Main Street Church in Louisville during the State Meeting in 1880, when T. P. Haley asked if any knew of rich men's sons who are preachers of the Gospel. Only two were known—T. M. Arnold of Covington, Kentucky, and Alex. Magarey. On one occasion his horse, which no one drove but him, took us in a buggy from his father's home to a church near Adelaide where Alex. preached. The people there were poor, and he would minister to them—"preach the gospel to the poor". He taught them to give. A woman who had no money had gathered the wild flowers—her offering—better than gold to him. He took them home and pressed them, possibly had them as long as he lived.The name "Magarey" always honored in the Campbell Home, is it strange that when Alex. came to the United States the next time it was for the express purpose of bearing to his Australian home a bride—niece of Alexander Campbell?These young men (A. T. and S. J. Magarey) were my ideals of what young Christians ought to be and do: they were so congenial to me—my companions even playmates, sympathized with me so fully, helped me in my work, that when their earthly life ended it seemed that a part of my own life had gone with them.O. A. C.[11]Philip Santo—a prince among men—a generous, sympathetic soul "Come to see us", was his message to me, "Jeff." (T. J. Gore) "wants to see you—I will take no excuse". Of course, I had to go. When we had enjoyed his home for a while he sent "Jeff." and me to the seaside—to Port Elliot, the farthest limit of land toward the South. Up on the immense cliff at the hotel we feasted the body and rested, while we looked far out over the Southern ocean toward the South Pole. At night the tide would lash the waves up in sprays to the very top of this cliff: in the afternoon we strolled the beach, gathering shells, and leaving our little (?) footprints to be washed away at even. Every year T. J. Gore visits Port Elliot with his family for a season; and a picture of it hangs on the wall at Carr-Burdette College.Philip Santo, happy man, was always planning, preparing something for the good of the Church. He would sit in his Library at night and read until absorbed in some happy thought he would say: "Jeff., what does this Scripture mean?" and then he would be silent until next Lord's day morning when "Jeff." would be delighted with the lesson, and the exhortation Philip Santo would give at the church. Those who heard him speak in the House of Parliament were glad to hear him in the Church; for in the honesty of his soul he ministered in each place. When I bade him good-by he insisted that I take fifty dollars; for, said he, "I do not permit the preachers to come to see me at their own expense".He visited us in Hobart City, Tasmania. He entered the store of his old time friend, with a cordial greeting. "How do you prosper"? The friend, a hypercalvinist, he who heard O. A. Carr gladly, read Milligan's Scheme of redemption and pronounced it the best book, next to his Bible, he had ever seen, "but who drew back when he heard a sermon on 'My Sheep'—"Very well indeed," he said, "until the preacher (Carr) began to preach Campbellism". "What is that you said he preached", said Santo. "What is Campbellism?" "Oh, I don't know; but that is what they said he preached". Then he enveloped himself in a mist of dreary theology, and proceeded into the darkness of the decrees of foreknowledge and "fixed the fate" of all, as he thought. Whereupon Santo remarked: "Do you think that any man of ordinary sense can understand what you have been saying?" Our friend was a good man, and he could bear it, when Philip Santo said it; but he went into the other room to cool off; but soon returned to indulge in reminiscences. He read in a few days the announcement that "The Hon. Philip Santo, from Adelaide, would preach the next Lord's day in O. A. Carr's place". Then it was revealed that he had given himself away together with his cause; but he continued to maintain stoutly that a "sheep could never become a goat".On leaving us he said: "I want to give you this: you may need some pocket change"—and placed $50.00 in my hand. Thus he moved around among the churches—distributing to the necessity of saints like he was "given to hospitality" in his home.His heart's desire was to visit his brethren in America. His active business life forbade a lingering while here. He telegraphed to me to meet him in St. Louis. Feeling that we must have him in our home at Columbia, my answer was to tell him how he could come, and be sure to come; but he must set sail from California at a fixed date and could not. We missed the joy of his presence. How I would love now to have the opportunity to do his bidding; but he has gone from the earthly life.O. A. C.[12]By association with him and his family in his own home I learned to love Thomas Magarey, and henceforth to think of him very much as his sons thought, and to feel that he was a father to us all to correct and to help us. He could not offend me if he would by any strange position he might take, or any thing he might say; nor would he intentionally do so. He was born to be heard, to say what should be in the affairs of men. Right or wrong in what he claimed as truth, he was a genuine man.O. A. C.[13]See appendix.[14]See appendix, "My Sheep."[15]See appendix.[16]A letter from Mrs. Carr to one of her pupils she taught in Melbourne. The letter was discovered recently with "the little wild flower gathered on the plains of Sharon" pinned to it: the letter had never been mailed: written thirty-three years ago, it shows how Mrs. Carr talked to her girls. Possibly she wondered why "Maria" did not answer her letter, and here is the letter found in a pigeon hole at the College. Mr. Carr sends it on to Maria with apology."Fulton, Mo., U.S.A., January 8th, 1877""My Dear Maria:I received a letter from Maggie a few days since in which she stated that you had written to me, but receiving no answer, feel discouraged to write again. Be assured your letter never reached me, or it would have been answered. I often think of my dear girls in Australia, and especially of you and Maggie, because I loved you best of all my pupils in Melbourne; for my association with you was longest and most intimate, and because your mothers were friends that never failed me amid the little annoyances and trials that life is so surely heir to. I cannot tell you how much I long to see you all once more. I cannot imagine how you think for a moment that I forget you. I wrote you from Jerusalem. I wrote to you from Rome, and I sent you a French Journal from Paris. I would love to visit you in your happy home that Maggie so graphically described and to see that beautiful boy upon whom she lavished so many praises. Vaney a husband and father, and my little Maria a wife and mother! Well, I am truly glad it is so, and pray that your lives may be happy and useful. After all, Maria, the sweetest thing in life is the privilege ofBEING USEFUL—the privilege ofWORK. What greater blessing, beyond redemption, can a woman ask than the privilege of serving her husband and her generation. We are now stationed in a very pretty little city in Missouri and our work is pleasant. Mr. Carr preaches for the Church here, and I have charge of Floral Hill College. My school is prospering and I am very happy in my work. Tell Miss Ashley I wish she were here to work with me. However, we may have the happiness of working together in Australia. Every winter I pine for the hot winds—yes—THE HOT WINDS—of Australia. My health has been poor during the winters ever since our return to America. We may meet you all again. How are Brother and Sister Magarey and family? Remember us very kindly to them all, also to Brother and Sister Santo and family, especially toEttie. We had a short, but pleasant intercourse with Alex. (Magarey) during his visit to America. Extend our congratulations to him and his bride, and our best wishes for their happiness and usefulness." [Alex. had come to the United States to marry Miss Campbell of Bethany, Va..—niece of Alex. Campbell—O. A. C.]"The snow is falling drearily and the snow birds are hopping about cheerily, as though the snow was the greatest boon that God ever bestowed upon his creatures. It is not 'The Rainy Day,' but the spirit of Longfellow is about me. By the way, during my tour East last summer, I called upon the grand old poet, and had a happy talk with him in his own historic drawing room. As you doubtless know, the Longfellow Mansion was at one time during the Revolution the headquarters of General Washington. Longfellow is one of the few glorious poetic spirits that have withstood the corrupting influence of the world's applause. When I visited the Centennial Exposition I availed myself of the privilege of visiting many places of historic interest in the East. This is the only tour that I ever made through the Eastern StatesEXPRESSLYfor information, and I need not tell you that I enjoyed it intensely and feel greatly benefited thereby. When I see you, you shall have all particulars. Now, Maria, you must not fail to answer without delay. [What grief it gave Mrs. Carr that she did not have a letter from Maria—because this letter was not posted!] Write me a 'chatty' letter. Tell me how you like housekeeping, if baby ever has the colic, if Vaney kisses him over a dozen times a day, etc., etc. Give my love to your mother and tell her I would love to receive one more pledge of her friendship in the form of a letter for the sake of 'Auld Lang Syne.' Or if she is the busy housewife of yore, she can press Willie into service. Remember us very kindly to our friend, the Scotchman, your father and Mr. Jacques."I enclose a little wild flower that I gathered in the Plain of Sharon. I collected many curios in my travels and arranged them into a Museum during Christmas holidays. The first day of January it was opened with nice entertainment to my young ladies, andCHRISTENED FLORAL HILL MUSEUM. My girls acquitted themselves splendidly."Write soon and believe me, affectionately yours,""I will write to Maggie soon."Mrs. Carr."[17]Now, 1910, he and his good wife are in a most efficient ministry in Pittsburg, Pa. O. A. C.[18]Their names are in those "Envelopes" at the College inscribed "for my book" and Mrs. Carr intended to honor them thus; memory of them and incidents she often recalled; and she praised them always.Transcriber's Notes:Inconsistent spellings and hyphenation have been retained.Obvious printer errors fixed.Many punctuation errors repaired.In In footnote 10, missing letters in "Be. sley". (possibly Beasley) "Alex. would have me take him to see the mother of Brother Be. sley who went to Australia..."
[1]That "drill in Rhetoric, in English pure and undefiled" when she analyzed and parsed every sentence of the Manuscript read to the class Mrs. Carr often spoke of, and of John Smith who, in his last days, abode at Daughters' College to furnish material for his biography. She was always proud of the fact that John Augustus Williams taught her English.
[1]That "drill in Rhetoric, in English pure and undefiled" when she analyzed and parsed every sentence of the Manuscript read to the class Mrs. Carr often spoke of, and of John Smith who, in his last days, abode at Daughters' College to furnish material for his biography. She was always proud of the fact that John Augustus Williams taught her English.
[2]See appendix.
[2]See appendix.
[3]See appendix.
[3]See appendix.
[4]"These boys," Garrett S. Wall (now Judge Wall, of Maysville, Ky.), Jacob Riley, Anthony Latham and O. A. Carr, all from May's Lick, had lively discussion on the way. "Which church is right?" was the awkward way the talk went on: Garrett explained Jacob's Theological puzzles: Oliver presented the points in that first sermon he ever heard that he understood, and to him the Scripture statements were plain: Anthony, true son of "Calvin", dwelt on the "decrees". These boys were going to be taught, and Anthony seemed willing that the "Spirit should guide him into all truth" provided it did not make a Campbellite of him; for he knew that was wrong religion. The count stood—three against one, and in boy fashion it was claimed that if "what is to be will be" Anthony ought to be satisfied.O. A. C.
[4]"These boys," Garrett S. Wall (now Judge Wall, of Maysville, Ky.), Jacob Riley, Anthony Latham and O. A. Carr, all from May's Lick, had lively discussion on the way. "Which church is right?" was the awkward way the talk went on: Garrett explained Jacob's Theological puzzles: Oliver presented the points in that first sermon he ever heard that he understood, and to him the Scripture statements were plain: Anthony, true son of "Calvin", dwelt on the "decrees". These boys were going to be taught, and Anthony seemed willing that the "Spirit should guide him into all truth" provided it did not make a Campbellite of him; for he knew that was wrong religion. The count stood—three against one, and in boy fashion it was claimed that if "what is to be will be" Anthony ought to be satisfied.
O. A. C.
[5]When first I saw the following lines, I called Mattie to hear me read them to her. I thought of her "CHILDREN," the girls she had taught. We were seated in her private parlor; and her attention was fixed from the first stanza: "Shedding sunshine of love on my face." The reading ended, she threw herself on the bed and wept aloud. Her feelings, when fully aroused, were paroxysms of joy or grief; and now the two alternated as memory of her first school at Lancaster, and of the girls on the other side of the earth, at Melbourne, mingled with all her life of love for "THE CHILDREN." She made notes when she read Milton, Spencer, Mrs. Browning, Longfellow, Tennison, but this little poem was literally bathed in her tears.O. A. C.
[5]When first I saw the following lines, I called Mattie to hear me read them to her. I thought of her "CHILDREN," the girls she had taught. We were seated in her private parlor; and her attention was fixed from the first stanza: "Shedding sunshine of love on my face." The reading ended, she threw herself on the bed and wept aloud. Her feelings, when fully aroused, were paroxysms of joy or grief; and now the two alternated as memory of her first school at Lancaster, and of the girls on the other side of the earth, at Melbourne, mingled with all her life of love for "THE CHILDREN." She made notes when she read Milton, Spencer, Mrs. Browning, Longfellow, Tennison, but this little poem was literally bathed in her tears.
O. A. C.
When the lessons and tasks are all endedAnd the school for the day is dismissed,And the little ones gather around me,To bid me good night and be kissed;Oh, the little white arms that encircleMy neck in a tender embrace!On, the smiles that are halos of heavenShedding sunshine of love on my face!And when they are gone I sit dreamingOf my childhood—too lovely to last;Of love that my heart will rememberWhen it wakes to the pulse of the past,Ere the world and its wickedness made me,A partner of sorrow and of sinWhen the glory of God was about me,And the glory of gladness within.Oh, my heart grows weak as a woman'sAnd the fountains of feeling will flow,When I think of the paths steep and stony,Where the feet of the dear ones must go;Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them,Of the tempest of fate blowing wild;Oh, there's nothing on earth half so holyAs the innocent heart of a child.They are idols of hearts and of households,They are angels of God in disguise;His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,His glory still beams in their eyes;Oh, those truants from home and from heaven,They have made me more manly and mild—And I know how Jesus could likenThe kingdom of God to a child.I ask not a life for the dear ones,All radiant, as others have done;But that life may have just enough shadowTo temper the glare of the sun;I would pray God to guard them from evil,But my prayer would bound back to myself.Ah! a seraph may pray for a sinner,But a sinner must pray for himself.The twig is so easily bendedI have banished the rule and the rod;I have taught them the goodness of knowledgeThey have taught me the goodness of God:My heart is a dungeon of darkness,Where I shut them for breaking a rule;My frown is sufficient correction;My love is the law of the school.I shall leave the old home in the Autumn,To traverse its threshold no more;Ah! how shall I sigh for the dear ones,That met me each morn at the door;I shall miss the goodnights and the kisses.And the gush of their innocent glee,The group on the green and the flowersThat are brought every morning to me.I shall miss them at morn and at eve,The song in the school and the street;I shall miss the low hum of their voices,And the tramp of their delicate feet—When the lessons and tasks are all ended,And death says: "The school is dismissed"May the little ones gather around meTo bid me good night and be kissed.
When the lessons and tasks are all endedAnd the school for the day is dismissed,And the little ones gather around me,To bid me good night and be kissed;Oh, the little white arms that encircleMy neck in a tender embrace!On, the smiles that are halos of heavenShedding sunshine of love on my face!
And when they are gone I sit dreamingOf my childhood—too lovely to last;Of love that my heart will rememberWhen it wakes to the pulse of the past,Ere the world and its wickedness made me,A partner of sorrow and of sinWhen the glory of God was about me,And the glory of gladness within.
Oh, my heart grows weak as a woman'sAnd the fountains of feeling will flow,When I think of the paths steep and stony,Where the feet of the dear ones must go;Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them,Of the tempest of fate blowing wild;Oh, there's nothing on earth half so holyAs the innocent heart of a child.
They are idols of hearts and of households,They are angels of God in disguise;His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,His glory still beams in their eyes;Oh, those truants from home and from heaven,They have made me more manly and mild—And I know how Jesus could likenThe kingdom of God to a child.
I ask not a life for the dear ones,All radiant, as others have done;But that life may have just enough shadowTo temper the glare of the sun;I would pray God to guard them from evil,But my prayer would bound back to myself.Ah! a seraph may pray for a sinner,But a sinner must pray for himself.
The twig is so easily bendedI have banished the rule and the rod;I have taught them the goodness of knowledgeThey have taught me the goodness of God:My heart is a dungeon of darkness,Where I shut them for breaking a rule;My frown is sufficient correction;My love is the law of the school.
I shall leave the old home in the Autumn,To traverse its threshold no more;Ah! how shall I sigh for the dear ones,That met me each morn at the door;I shall miss the goodnights and the kisses.And the gush of their innocent glee,The group on the green and the flowersThat are brought every morning to me.
I shall miss them at morn and at eve,The song in the school and the street;I shall miss the low hum of their voices,And the tramp of their delicate feet—When the lessons and tasks are all ended,And death says: "The school is dismissed"May the little ones gather around meTo bid me good night and be kissed.
[6]I must have preached "big sermons" in these days; for Brother Benjamin Coleman saw to it that I received $25.00 each time I went to Macedonia. No thanks to him and the church, their contribution was to help me through College.O. A. C.
[6]I must have preached "big sermons" in these days; for Brother Benjamin Coleman saw to it that I received $25.00 each time I went to Macedonia. No thanks to him and the church, their contribution was to help me through College.
O. A. C.
[7]Just then, it seemed that every one on the ship "cared": That drunken, card-playing priest proposed to say "mass for the poor boy's soul"; but Captain Myles said: "None of your foolishness here". I could not escape the thought that he would have "read mass", if it had been in the Prayer-book, whether foolishness or not; for the ship's Captain is ordained to read the church service, or to appoint some one to read it. That desire to do something, springing from a feeling of helplessness and grief seems natural to mortals and cries out most pitilessly when faith is absent. I doubt not it was as sincere as any prayer ever uttered when Luther wanted to "say mass for the soul" of his mother. I had seen the poor boy cuffed about deck, driven to his hard task, beaten with a broom, and had remonstrated in vain. Between the priest with his rollicking ditties, gambling and drunkenness and the boy there was a great gulf fixed on that ship. "No association with second-class passengers" was the edict; and was not the priest first-class? and the boy, what was he? He had hidden himself among the boxes in the ship's hold at Liverpool to be taken any where, perhaps, out of the world, and so it was. That boy, that scene, what led to it and what followed, Mrs. Carr never forgot—"A neglected one, a prodigal, it may have been, but still a human; he needed something other than sacerdotal robes to show him that you are the servants of the Most High." Yes, she "cared" and so do I, even to this day.O. A. C.
[7]Just then, it seemed that every one on the ship "cared": That drunken, card-playing priest proposed to say "mass for the poor boy's soul"; but Captain Myles said: "None of your foolishness here". I could not escape the thought that he would have "read mass", if it had been in the Prayer-book, whether foolishness or not; for the ship's Captain is ordained to read the church service, or to appoint some one to read it. That desire to do something, springing from a feeling of helplessness and grief seems natural to mortals and cries out most pitilessly when faith is absent. I doubt not it was as sincere as any prayer ever uttered when Luther wanted to "say mass for the soul" of his mother. I had seen the poor boy cuffed about deck, driven to his hard task, beaten with a broom, and had remonstrated in vain. Between the priest with his rollicking ditties, gambling and drunkenness and the boy there was a great gulf fixed on that ship. "No association with second-class passengers" was the edict; and was not the priest first-class? and the boy, what was he? He had hidden himself among the boxes in the ship's hold at Liverpool to be taken any where, perhaps, out of the world, and so it was. That boy, that scene, what led to it and what followed, Mrs. Carr never forgot—"A neglected one, a prodigal, it may have been, but still a human; he needed something other than sacerdotal robes to show him that you are the servants of the Most High." Yes, she "cared" and so do I, even to this day.
O. A. C.
[8]Martin Zelius, happy man! About the time Eneas Myall was seeking work and found it at May's Lick, Kentucky, Martin Zelius stood in the streets of Melbourne, wondering to what he should turn his hand. He turned his eye and saw across the street a flaming placard: "Evangelist from America, H. S. Earl, will preach in St. George's Hall," etc. "No where to go," he thought to himself, "I will go hear that man." He was charmed with what he heard, and soon became obedient to the faith. He entered upon a business life in which his success was marvelous: everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. Whole-souled, enthusiastic, he stood before the church and asked the privilege of sending from his own earnings the money to pay the expenses of the evangelists from America. One night, when he had come from church he learned that a brother was aggrieved at him: he hired a "cab", drove across the city to that Brother's home, called him from his bed out to talk with him alone, and broached the matter in such a way that the Brother said: "O, it was a trifle, I should not have mentioned; I am ashamed of myself because I did. Is it possible that you have come all this distance to talk about that?" "Why, yes," said Martin Zelius, "our Savior said, 'if thou bring thy gift to the altar and there remember that thy Brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift; go be reconciled to thy Brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' I could not pray to-night until I came to see you, and know what I had done to offend you." "Well, I always thought a great deal of you, but more now than ever." Forgiven and happy he goes home, at peace with all the world.His wife, fit companion for such a man, of meek and quiet spirit, entered into fullest sympathy with Mrs. Carr, understood her, knew her and loved her. She entreated Mrs. Carr to visit her daughter in California and arrangements were made to do so, to start in two weeks (in November, 1907); but in five days she had gone to the eternal home.O. A. C.
[8]Martin Zelius, happy man! About the time Eneas Myall was seeking work and found it at May's Lick, Kentucky, Martin Zelius stood in the streets of Melbourne, wondering to what he should turn his hand. He turned his eye and saw across the street a flaming placard: "Evangelist from America, H. S. Earl, will preach in St. George's Hall," etc. "No where to go," he thought to himself, "I will go hear that man." He was charmed with what he heard, and soon became obedient to the faith. He entered upon a business life in which his success was marvelous: everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. Whole-souled, enthusiastic, he stood before the church and asked the privilege of sending from his own earnings the money to pay the expenses of the evangelists from America. One night, when he had come from church he learned that a brother was aggrieved at him: he hired a "cab", drove across the city to that Brother's home, called him from his bed out to talk with him alone, and broached the matter in such a way that the Brother said: "O, it was a trifle, I should not have mentioned; I am ashamed of myself because I did. Is it possible that you have come all this distance to talk about that?" "Why, yes," said Martin Zelius, "our Savior said, 'if thou bring thy gift to the altar and there remember that thy Brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift; go be reconciled to thy Brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' I could not pray to-night until I came to see you, and know what I had done to offend you." "Well, I always thought a great deal of you, but more now than ever." Forgiven and happy he goes home, at peace with all the world.
His wife, fit companion for such a man, of meek and quiet spirit, entered into fullest sympathy with Mrs. Carr, understood her, knew her and loved her. She entreated Mrs. Carr to visit her daughter in California and arrangements were made to do so, to start in two weeks (in November, 1907); but in five days she had gone to the eternal home.
O. A. C.
[9]See appendix.
[9]See appendix.
[10]Alexander T. Magarey and Vaney J. Magarey were sons of Thomas Magarey, M. P., of South Australia. They made their home with us while attending the University of Melbourne. Two more congenial spirits I never met; nor better students. Then, too, they were Christians from very love of the Savior, and delighted in the truths of the Gospel. They were very intelligent in the Scriptures. After my return from Australia Alex. visited me in Kentucky. It was my delight to take him among my kindred; for he and his brother seemed to me like one of my own family, and to present him to the Brethren as a specimen of what sort could be found in Australia. The memory of him, his father, brother and the Magarey family is very precious. Alex. would have me take him to see the mother of Brother Be. sley who went to Australia, came home an invalid and died of consumption: he must weep with that mother and see the grave of that young man: he must see those—teachers and preachers—of whom he had read; he wanted to take them all by the hand, and such a hand grasp as he gave was remembered. We were sitting together in the Main Street Church in Louisville during the State Meeting in 1880, when T. P. Haley asked if any knew of rich men's sons who are preachers of the Gospel. Only two were known—T. M. Arnold of Covington, Kentucky, and Alex. Magarey. On one occasion his horse, which no one drove but him, took us in a buggy from his father's home to a church near Adelaide where Alex. preached. The people there were poor, and he would minister to them—"preach the gospel to the poor". He taught them to give. A woman who had no money had gathered the wild flowers—her offering—better than gold to him. He took them home and pressed them, possibly had them as long as he lived.The name "Magarey" always honored in the Campbell Home, is it strange that when Alex. came to the United States the next time it was for the express purpose of bearing to his Australian home a bride—niece of Alexander Campbell?These young men (A. T. and S. J. Magarey) were my ideals of what young Christians ought to be and do: they were so congenial to me—my companions even playmates, sympathized with me so fully, helped me in my work, that when their earthly life ended it seemed that a part of my own life had gone with them.O. A. C.
[10]Alexander T. Magarey and Vaney J. Magarey were sons of Thomas Magarey, M. P., of South Australia. They made their home with us while attending the University of Melbourne. Two more congenial spirits I never met; nor better students. Then, too, they were Christians from very love of the Savior, and delighted in the truths of the Gospel. They were very intelligent in the Scriptures. After my return from Australia Alex. visited me in Kentucky. It was my delight to take him among my kindred; for he and his brother seemed to me like one of my own family, and to present him to the Brethren as a specimen of what sort could be found in Australia. The memory of him, his father, brother and the Magarey family is very precious. Alex. would have me take him to see the mother of Brother Be. sley who went to Australia, came home an invalid and died of consumption: he must weep with that mother and see the grave of that young man: he must see those—teachers and preachers—of whom he had read; he wanted to take them all by the hand, and such a hand grasp as he gave was remembered. We were sitting together in the Main Street Church in Louisville during the State Meeting in 1880, when T. P. Haley asked if any knew of rich men's sons who are preachers of the Gospel. Only two were known—T. M. Arnold of Covington, Kentucky, and Alex. Magarey. On one occasion his horse, which no one drove but him, took us in a buggy from his father's home to a church near Adelaide where Alex. preached. The people there were poor, and he would minister to them—"preach the gospel to the poor". He taught them to give. A woman who had no money had gathered the wild flowers—her offering—better than gold to him. He took them home and pressed them, possibly had them as long as he lived.
The name "Magarey" always honored in the Campbell Home, is it strange that when Alex. came to the United States the next time it was for the express purpose of bearing to his Australian home a bride—niece of Alexander Campbell?
These young men (A. T. and S. J. Magarey) were my ideals of what young Christians ought to be and do: they were so congenial to me—my companions even playmates, sympathized with me so fully, helped me in my work, that when their earthly life ended it seemed that a part of my own life had gone with them.
O. A. C.
[11]Philip Santo—a prince among men—a generous, sympathetic soul "Come to see us", was his message to me, "Jeff." (T. J. Gore) "wants to see you—I will take no excuse". Of course, I had to go. When we had enjoyed his home for a while he sent "Jeff." and me to the seaside—to Port Elliot, the farthest limit of land toward the South. Up on the immense cliff at the hotel we feasted the body and rested, while we looked far out over the Southern ocean toward the South Pole. At night the tide would lash the waves up in sprays to the very top of this cliff: in the afternoon we strolled the beach, gathering shells, and leaving our little (?) footprints to be washed away at even. Every year T. J. Gore visits Port Elliot with his family for a season; and a picture of it hangs on the wall at Carr-Burdette College.Philip Santo, happy man, was always planning, preparing something for the good of the Church. He would sit in his Library at night and read until absorbed in some happy thought he would say: "Jeff., what does this Scripture mean?" and then he would be silent until next Lord's day morning when "Jeff." would be delighted with the lesson, and the exhortation Philip Santo would give at the church. Those who heard him speak in the House of Parliament were glad to hear him in the Church; for in the honesty of his soul he ministered in each place. When I bade him good-by he insisted that I take fifty dollars; for, said he, "I do not permit the preachers to come to see me at their own expense".He visited us in Hobart City, Tasmania. He entered the store of his old time friend, with a cordial greeting. "How do you prosper"? The friend, a hypercalvinist, he who heard O. A. Carr gladly, read Milligan's Scheme of redemption and pronounced it the best book, next to his Bible, he had ever seen, "but who drew back when he heard a sermon on 'My Sheep'—"Very well indeed," he said, "until the preacher (Carr) began to preach Campbellism". "What is that you said he preached", said Santo. "What is Campbellism?" "Oh, I don't know; but that is what they said he preached". Then he enveloped himself in a mist of dreary theology, and proceeded into the darkness of the decrees of foreknowledge and "fixed the fate" of all, as he thought. Whereupon Santo remarked: "Do you think that any man of ordinary sense can understand what you have been saying?" Our friend was a good man, and he could bear it, when Philip Santo said it; but he went into the other room to cool off; but soon returned to indulge in reminiscences. He read in a few days the announcement that "The Hon. Philip Santo, from Adelaide, would preach the next Lord's day in O. A. Carr's place". Then it was revealed that he had given himself away together with his cause; but he continued to maintain stoutly that a "sheep could never become a goat".On leaving us he said: "I want to give you this: you may need some pocket change"—and placed $50.00 in my hand. Thus he moved around among the churches—distributing to the necessity of saints like he was "given to hospitality" in his home.His heart's desire was to visit his brethren in America. His active business life forbade a lingering while here. He telegraphed to me to meet him in St. Louis. Feeling that we must have him in our home at Columbia, my answer was to tell him how he could come, and be sure to come; but he must set sail from California at a fixed date and could not. We missed the joy of his presence. How I would love now to have the opportunity to do his bidding; but he has gone from the earthly life.O. A. C.
[11]Philip Santo—a prince among men—a generous, sympathetic soul "Come to see us", was his message to me, "Jeff." (T. J. Gore) "wants to see you—I will take no excuse". Of course, I had to go. When we had enjoyed his home for a while he sent "Jeff." and me to the seaside—to Port Elliot, the farthest limit of land toward the South. Up on the immense cliff at the hotel we feasted the body and rested, while we looked far out over the Southern ocean toward the South Pole. At night the tide would lash the waves up in sprays to the very top of this cliff: in the afternoon we strolled the beach, gathering shells, and leaving our little (?) footprints to be washed away at even. Every year T. J. Gore visits Port Elliot with his family for a season; and a picture of it hangs on the wall at Carr-Burdette College.
Philip Santo, happy man, was always planning, preparing something for the good of the Church. He would sit in his Library at night and read until absorbed in some happy thought he would say: "Jeff., what does this Scripture mean?" and then he would be silent until next Lord's day morning when "Jeff." would be delighted with the lesson, and the exhortation Philip Santo would give at the church. Those who heard him speak in the House of Parliament were glad to hear him in the Church; for in the honesty of his soul he ministered in each place. When I bade him good-by he insisted that I take fifty dollars; for, said he, "I do not permit the preachers to come to see me at their own expense".
He visited us in Hobart City, Tasmania. He entered the store of his old time friend, with a cordial greeting. "How do you prosper"? The friend, a hypercalvinist, he who heard O. A. Carr gladly, read Milligan's Scheme of redemption and pronounced it the best book, next to his Bible, he had ever seen, "but who drew back when he heard a sermon on 'My Sheep'—"Very well indeed," he said, "until the preacher (Carr) began to preach Campbellism". "What is that you said he preached", said Santo. "What is Campbellism?" "Oh, I don't know; but that is what they said he preached". Then he enveloped himself in a mist of dreary theology, and proceeded into the darkness of the decrees of foreknowledge and "fixed the fate" of all, as he thought. Whereupon Santo remarked: "Do you think that any man of ordinary sense can understand what you have been saying?" Our friend was a good man, and he could bear it, when Philip Santo said it; but he went into the other room to cool off; but soon returned to indulge in reminiscences. He read in a few days the announcement that "The Hon. Philip Santo, from Adelaide, would preach the next Lord's day in O. A. Carr's place". Then it was revealed that he had given himself away together with his cause; but he continued to maintain stoutly that a "sheep could never become a goat".
On leaving us he said: "I want to give you this: you may need some pocket change"—and placed $50.00 in my hand. Thus he moved around among the churches—distributing to the necessity of saints like he was "given to hospitality" in his home.
His heart's desire was to visit his brethren in America. His active business life forbade a lingering while here. He telegraphed to me to meet him in St. Louis. Feeling that we must have him in our home at Columbia, my answer was to tell him how he could come, and be sure to come; but he must set sail from California at a fixed date and could not. We missed the joy of his presence. How I would love now to have the opportunity to do his bidding; but he has gone from the earthly life.
O. A. C.
[12]By association with him and his family in his own home I learned to love Thomas Magarey, and henceforth to think of him very much as his sons thought, and to feel that he was a father to us all to correct and to help us. He could not offend me if he would by any strange position he might take, or any thing he might say; nor would he intentionally do so. He was born to be heard, to say what should be in the affairs of men. Right or wrong in what he claimed as truth, he was a genuine man.O. A. C.
[12]By association with him and his family in his own home I learned to love Thomas Magarey, and henceforth to think of him very much as his sons thought, and to feel that he was a father to us all to correct and to help us. He could not offend me if he would by any strange position he might take, or any thing he might say; nor would he intentionally do so. He was born to be heard, to say what should be in the affairs of men. Right or wrong in what he claimed as truth, he was a genuine man.
O. A. C.
[13]See appendix.
[13]See appendix.
[14]See appendix, "My Sheep."
[14]See appendix, "My Sheep."
[15]See appendix.
[15]See appendix.
[16]A letter from Mrs. Carr to one of her pupils she taught in Melbourne. The letter was discovered recently with "the little wild flower gathered on the plains of Sharon" pinned to it: the letter had never been mailed: written thirty-three years ago, it shows how Mrs. Carr talked to her girls. Possibly she wondered why "Maria" did not answer her letter, and here is the letter found in a pigeon hole at the College. Mr. Carr sends it on to Maria with apology."Fulton, Mo., U.S.A., January 8th, 1877""My Dear Maria:I received a letter from Maggie a few days since in which she stated that you had written to me, but receiving no answer, feel discouraged to write again. Be assured your letter never reached me, or it would have been answered. I often think of my dear girls in Australia, and especially of you and Maggie, because I loved you best of all my pupils in Melbourne; for my association with you was longest and most intimate, and because your mothers were friends that never failed me amid the little annoyances and trials that life is so surely heir to. I cannot tell you how much I long to see you all once more. I cannot imagine how you think for a moment that I forget you. I wrote you from Jerusalem. I wrote to you from Rome, and I sent you a French Journal from Paris. I would love to visit you in your happy home that Maggie so graphically described and to see that beautiful boy upon whom she lavished so many praises. Vaney a husband and father, and my little Maria a wife and mother! Well, I am truly glad it is so, and pray that your lives may be happy and useful. After all, Maria, the sweetest thing in life is the privilege ofBEING USEFUL—the privilege ofWORK. What greater blessing, beyond redemption, can a woman ask than the privilege of serving her husband and her generation. We are now stationed in a very pretty little city in Missouri and our work is pleasant. Mr. Carr preaches for the Church here, and I have charge of Floral Hill College. My school is prospering and I am very happy in my work. Tell Miss Ashley I wish she were here to work with me. However, we may have the happiness of working together in Australia. Every winter I pine for the hot winds—yes—THE HOT WINDS—of Australia. My health has been poor during the winters ever since our return to America. We may meet you all again. How are Brother and Sister Magarey and family? Remember us very kindly to them all, also to Brother and Sister Santo and family, especially toEttie. We had a short, but pleasant intercourse with Alex. (Magarey) during his visit to America. Extend our congratulations to him and his bride, and our best wishes for their happiness and usefulness." [Alex. had come to the United States to marry Miss Campbell of Bethany, Va..—niece of Alex. Campbell—O. A. C.]"The snow is falling drearily and the snow birds are hopping about cheerily, as though the snow was the greatest boon that God ever bestowed upon his creatures. It is not 'The Rainy Day,' but the spirit of Longfellow is about me. By the way, during my tour East last summer, I called upon the grand old poet, and had a happy talk with him in his own historic drawing room. As you doubtless know, the Longfellow Mansion was at one time during the Revolution the headquarters of General Washington. Longfellow is one of the few glorious poetic spirits that have withstood the corrupting influence of the world's applause. When I visited the Centennial Exposition I availed myself of the privilege of visiting many places of historic interest in the East. This is the only tour that I ever made through the Eastern StatesEXPRESSLYfor information, and I need not tell you that I enjoyed it intensely and feel greatly benefited thereby. When I see you, you shall have all particulars. Now, Maria, you must not fail to answer without delay. [What grief it gave Mrs. Carr that she did not have a letter from Maria—because this letter was not posted!] Write me a 'chatty' letter. Tell me how you like housekeeping, if baby ever has the colic, if Vaney kisses him over a dozen times a day, etc., etc. Give my love to your mother and tell her I would love to receive one more pledge of her friendship in the form of a letter for the sake of 'Auld Lang Syne.' Or if she is the busy housewife of yore, she can press Willie into service. Remember us very kindly to our friend, the Scotchman, your father and Mr. Jacques."I enclose a little wild flower that I gathered in the Plain of Sharon. I collected many curios in my travels and arranged them into a Museum during Christmas holidays. The first day of January it was opened with nice entertainment to my young ladies, andCHRISTENED FLORAL HILL MUSEUM. My girls acquitted themselves splendidly."Write soon and believe me, affectionately yours,""I will write to Maggie soon."Mrs. Carr."
[16]A letter from Mrs. Carr to one of her pupils she taught in Melbourne. The letter was discovered recently with "the little wild flower gathered on the plains of Sharon" pinned to it: the letter had never been mailed: written thirty-three years ago, it shows how Mrs. Carr talked to her girls. Possibly she wondered why "Maria" did not answer her letter, and here is the letter found in a pigeon hole at the College. Mr. Carr sends it on to Maria with apology.
"Fulton, Mo., U.S.A., January 8th, 1877"
"My Dear Maria:
I received a letter from Maggie a few days since in which she stated that you had written to me, but receiving no answer, feel discouraged to write again. Be assured your letter never reached me, or it would have been answered. I often think of my dear girls in Australia, and especially of you and Maggie, because I loved you best of all my pupils in Melbourne; for my association with you was longest and most intimate, and because your mothers were friends that never failed me amid the little annoyances and trials that life is so surely heir to. I cannot tell you how much I long to see you all once more. I cannot imagine how you think for a moment that I forget you. I wrote you from Jerusalem. I wrote to you from Rome, and I sent you a French Journal from Paris. I would love to visit you in your happy home that Maggie so graphically described and to see that beautiful boy upon whom she lavished so many praises. Vaney a husband and father, and my little Maria a wife and mother! Well, I am truly glad it is so, and pray that your lives may be happy and useful. After all, Maria, the sweetest thing in life is the privilege ofBEING USEFUL—the privilege ofWORK. What greater blessing, beyond redemption, can a woman ask than the privilege of serving her husband and her generation. We are now stationed in a very pretty little city in Missouri and our work is pleasant. Mr. Carr preaches for the Church here, and I have charge of Floral Hill College. My school is prospering and I am very happy in my work. Tell Miss Ashley I wish she were here to work with me. However, we may have the happiness of working together in Australia. Every winter I pine for the hot winds—yes—THE HOT WINDS—of Australia. My health has been poor during the winters ever since our return to America. We may meet you all again. How are Brother and Sister Magarey and family? Remember us very kindly to them all, also to Brother and Sister Santo and family, especially toEttie. We had a short, but pleasant intercourse with Alex. (Magarey) during his visit to America. Extend our congratulations to him and his bride, and our best wishes for their happiness and usefulness." [Alex. had come to the United States to marry Miss Campbell of Bethany, Va..—niece of Alex. Campbell—O. A. C.]
"The snow is falling drearily and the snow birds are hopping about cheerily, as though the snow was the greatest boon that God ever bestowed upon his creatures. It is not 'The Rainy Day,' but the spirit of Longfellow is about me. By the way, during my tour East last summer, I called upon the grand old poet, and had a happy talk with him in his own historic drawing room. As you doubtless know, the Longfellow Mansion was at one time during the Revolution the headquarters of General Washington. Longfellow is one of the few glorious poetic spirits that have withstood the corrupting influence of the world's applause. When I visited the Centennial Exposition I availed myself of the privilege of visiting many places of historic interest in the East. This is the only tour that I ever made through the Eastern StatesEXPRESSLYfor information, and I need not tell you that I enjoyed it intensely and feel greatly benefited thereby. When I see you, you shall have all particulars. Now, Maria, you must not fail to answer without delay. [What grief it gave Mrs. Carr that she did not have a letter from Maria—because this letter was not posted!] Write me a 'chatty' letter. Tell me how you like housekeeping, if baby ever has the colic, if Vaney kisses him over a dozen times a day, etc., etc. Give my love to your mother and tell her I would love to receive one more pledge of her friendship in the form of a letter for the sake of 'Auld Lang Syne.' Or if she is the busy housewife of yore, she can press Willie into service. Remember us very kindly to our friend, the Scotchman, your father and Mr. Jacques.
"I enclose a little wild flower that I gathered in the Plain of Sharon. I collected many curios in my travels and arranged them into a Museum during Christmas holidays. The first day of January it was opened with nice entertainment to my young ladies, andCHRISTENED FLORAL HILL MUSEUM. My girls acquitted themselves splendidly.
"Write soon and believe me, affectionately yours,"
"I will write to Maggie soon."
Mrs. Carr."
[17]Now, 1910, he and his good wife are in a most efficient ministry in Pittsburg, Pa. O. A. C.
[17]Now, 1910, he and his good wife are in a most efficient ministry in Pittsburg, Pa. O. A. C.
[18]Their names are in those "Envelopes" at the College inscribed "for my book" and Mrs. Carr intended to honor them thus; memory of them and incidents she often recalled; and she praised them always.
[18]Their names are in those "Envelopes" at the College inscribed "for my book" and Mrs. Carr intended to honor them thus; memory of them and incidents she often recalled; and she praised them always.
Transcriber's Notes:Inconsistent spellings and hyphenation have been retained.Obvious printer errors fixed.Many punctuation errors repaired.In In footnote 10, missing letters in "Be. sley". (possibly Beasley) "Alex. would have me take him to see the mother of Brother Be. sley who went to Australia..."