The following extracts from letters of 1872 furnish an interesting account of the removal from Melbourne to Hobart Town, Tasmania. Mr. Carr writes to Mrs. Carr: "Arrived at Lancaster, safe but sick, January 6th. We set out for the Temperance Hotel, but it had become intemperate and gorged with guests before we got there. We went on, and have struck a bargain with an old woman who charges us one-six for each meal, and one-six every time we sleep. I came near stealing a march on my landlady by falling asleep this afternoon without the old lady's knowing it. Pretty high fare, but we are high up in the second story. Called on a Church of England acquaintance; he didn't invite me to his residence, but asked me to his pew. The coach doesn't leave for Hobart Town till Tuesday at 5 a. m. This place is just now taken by storm by pleasure parties from Melbourne; I suppose they will go on to Hobart Town. I am better to-day. I do believe if I stayed here, I could establish a church. The people are delighted to hear of your teaching, and of your plan of teaching. Shall I get you any boarding pupils? I believe this climate will be good for me.
"January 10. We arrived at Hobart Town last evening. Brother Smith was at the Coach Office, by chance or providence. There were 48 passengers. It was a very large open coach and we had a fine view of the country from Launceston to Hobart. All the cabmen and mischievous boys in the country flocked around to see why such a big affair had come to town. We were very cordially received by Brother and Sister Smith, and after cocoa, went to bed, and that was delightful, too. It is raining today, and I feel wretchedly dull and bad. I can hardly sit up.
"January 15. I do trust you are not discouraged. I am not. Remember you are a child of God, and all things work together for your good. I believe I have come to Hobart Town just at the right time, and the Lord will bless my coming to the good of this people, and the restoration of my health. I am enjoying the hospitality of Brother and Sister Smith, who show me every attention. She prepares many nice things for me to eat, and he has given me a fine new hat. I have a front room and a parlor all to myself, and the climate suits me exactly. Brother Smith and I went to the Baptist prayer meeting, and afterwards, they insisted that I preach on Lord's day. They asked me many questions, to which I returned Scriptural answers; I told them all about the church to which I belong, and what I preach; and they agreed, and I came home on tiptoe.
"The next night I went to Town Hall where the different preachers had been preaching all week. Sunday morning I preached at the Baptist chapel to a good audience. Then we ate the Lord's supper. I insisted on the ancient order of things—especially on meeting the first day of the week to break bread. They were delighted, and said I must preach in their chapel whenever I wanted to speak. There is a prayer meeting held every day at noon, and preaching held three or four times a week in the people's hall; but oh, they are so benighted! They don't know the Gospel in its beauty and power. I just burn to preach to them. I will, if I get half a chance.
"January 20. I am called on from every quarter to speak. All seem interested in my sermons. Things look bright, now; but I fear they will soon become prejudiced against the truth.
"January 27. I agree with you about the brick Chapel, and leave it all to you. I do hope they will not put up a wooden one. But they had better not have any Chapel, than to quarrel over it. If the majority say a wooden Chapel, a wooden one let it be. I don't believe in the Collingwood Church's going down. The faithful will remain faithful, despite a Chapel. The people here are becoming enthusiastic. Among my large audience Thursday night, I had two preachers. The people say they never heard such preaching in their lives. I am trying to work them around on Apostolic grounds. Now, Mattie, do not think all for me, and nothing for yourself. I could never forgive myself if I came here for my health, and you overworked. Do not let the building of the Chapel take too much of your strength.
"February 6. Last Lord's day I spoke on [13]'My Sheep' and there were about half a dozen of the higher Calvinists—who own the Chapel—who were not pleased. They will hold a church meeting next Thursday to decide whether or not I am to preach in their Chapel any more. Perhaps if they turn me out of their place it will be for the best, because the people who have been thronging there, do not believe in Calvinism; I am sure none would take steps to the Savior in that church, while I am preaching. I could rent a hall for eight, a week, and think after a while I can have a church here. The people meet me on the street and take me by the hand and say, 'I do wish you were going to live here,' etc. Last Lord's day, I spoke on the wharf to what is said to have been the largest audience ever assembled there. I am going to speak tonight at the People's Hall. But you must not think, dear Mattie, I am overdoing my strength; for it is no harder to preach than to go out to tea and talk.
"February 10. Great excitement in church affairs. I preached on John 10:27, and the audience was much interested, even excited, so that they began to talk in the yard about the absurdity of the church's bringing me to task. But I went in to my trial. One of the deacons made the motion that because I preached that it was possible for one who had been converted, to fall away and be lost, and because I said that Christ died for all, the Chapel be no longer tendered to me.[14] The motion was put, and only this deacon and two others voted for it. One man would not vote either way, and four voted in the negative. The chairman announced that I could use the Chapel when I liked, only three being opposed. But I declined to accept the offer, and yesterday tried all day to get a place to preach in; but was told in each place, "No, it would injure the other congregations, by drawing away their members." I am going to preach on the wharf tomorrow, where I will have a larger audience than I could ever have at the Chapel. The cause of the Master will not be hurt by this opposition. The editor of a weekly paper has offered me one page to edit religiously, and thus I will preach to the people. Brother and Sister Smith and I sat up late last night talking over the situation. She cried like a child and he is so excited over the matter that he doesn't know what to do. They will give us a room as long as we can stay. You must come.
"February 11. To-day has been one of great anxiety. As I could not get a hall to preach in, I thought it best to go to the Baptist Chapel as a hearer. The deacon of whom I wrote yesterday, preached in a vexing manner and Brother Smith was highly wrought up over the misrepresentations of my position. I preached on the wharf to a large throng in the afternoon, and at night heard a celebrated Congregationalist. I was so disappointed at passing one Lord's day evening without preaching the Word, that I was unable to give him a fair hearing. The people are in a furor because I cannot get a place to preach in. One lady whom I have never met, offers to give £5 toward erecting some sort of shed, that I may have a place to preach. I am not discouraged. Not even in Old Kentucky did I ever see so much interest manifested. The Lord will surely make some way here that his Truth may be heard."
From Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "My heart is full of you and your mission, and prayers for your success. I believe the Lord will bless your efforts. I am determined that you shall have a hall to preach in, I know you will never sacrifice any of the fullness of the Gospel, hence you cannot continue at the Baptist Chapel. I send you £8 that you may rent a first-class hall. This I have borrowed, and I would borrow for nothing but to further your efforts in the Gospel. People ask me if you have had any 'Results.' Do not write to any one but me, of your labors, until you have had what the people call 'Results,'—until at least 20 have obeyed the Gospel. I will pay your rent until then, and after that you may be sure of the hearty co-operation of the churches. It is the work performed that determines the value of any instrumentality. At least, that is the opinion of the churches; and their idea of work performed is embodied in 'Converts,' or, as some say, 'Results.' And they are not wholly wrong. Don't write to others about your work until you have success. The £8 will rent a hall for two months at £1 per week, and by that time you will certainly have some 'Results.' But don't forget to take care of my darling's health. I do trust that your success will be such that you can stay three months longer. A gentleman we met in London at Mr. Murby's, called with letters and papers from Mrs. Murby. She says we must make up our minds to a long stay with her in London, on our return to Kentucky."
We resume Mr. Carr's letters to Mrs. Carr: "I have done it. I have rented one of the best places in the city, Odd Fellows' Hall, for 13-9 per week, including cleaning, gas, etc. Am now at the printing office getting out posters. We are to have six hymns printed for next Lord's day. I will ask baptized believers to remain after the sermon, to see how many members of the church there will be. Tell Brother Dick to send 50 hymn books, with bill. And tell him to send my baptizing suit in the same box.
"February 19. Our first day at the hall was a very successful one. The house was crowded and the people stood at the door. Poor Brother Smith is hardly able to contain himself for joy. On Tuesday we meet to organize a church. Don't forget to send that baptizing suit.
"February 20. To-night (Tuesday) we met in a side room of the Odd Fellows' Hall and talked on the basis of union. I answered their questions, and we had a happy time. Then I asked all to hold up their hands who were in favor of taking simply the New Testament as their rule of faith and practice, and nearly every one held up his hand. Fifteen of those who had been baptized, gave me their names, pledging themselves to live by the Word of God. So you see, we have a start even in Hobart Town.
"February 27. Lord's day evening the hall was crowded; some stood, some sat on the floor. There are some candidates for baptism, but a difficulty has arisen. The three who objected to my preaching, do not want to let me have the use of the baptistry. They have called a church meeting to which I am invited to explain what I make of baptism.[15] In the morning we met at the hall to break bread, so I regard the church as begun in Hobart Town. Our collection from the 15 who have taken their stand with us, was 1-6-0 last Lord's day morning. Pretty good for a start, isn't it? I will soon be able to return that money you borrowed. There is no communion service in Hobart Town, and I had to send to Melbourne for one.
"March 5. Our evening audiences are increasing, but only a few meet to break bread in the morning. The people are so ignorant of everything pertaining to Christianity, that I have to teach them as if they were children, sure enough. Many never heard of what I preach; and while they admit the truth of it, they stand aloof. About 500 read each week my religious page of the Advance. That is better than tracts. Come to Tasmania! I am sure you could do a good work here, and this climate would restore your health. We will treat you, oh so well! Let me know when to expect you, and I will go out and sit on the wharf and wait for you."
Mrs. Carr to Mr. Carr: "The Southern Cross leaves Melbourne the 26th of March, the anniversary of our wedding. I wish we could be together in Hobart Town on that day. I will bring my piano. If you are on the wharf at 6:30 Thursday morning you will see your wife. But I'll not expect you there, for I remember your motto—'He who cannot rest his head upon his pillow and enjoy his forty morning winks, is up to knavery, or else he drinks!' At the tea meeting everybody asked about you, and expressed joy at your success. The brethren are delighted that you have established a church in Tasmania. No, I will not bring Sister Smith a half dozen reams of cotton; paper is sold by the ream; but thread by the gross; perhaps you meant reels. It does seem strange that in less than a week, I'll see my husband! I scarcely know how I'll behave myself! An appeal was made to the Lygon street church for assistance to Collingwood, in the erection of a brick chapel. All thoughts of a wooden building have been abandoned, and harmony is prevailing. I am sure I'll get pupils on the piano and guitar when we are established at Hobart Town. President Williams' last words to me were, 'Only believe, Mattie, and the light of his face will always shine upon you.' I believe the Lord will open a way for our support, if not through my labors, in some other way. I am going to have your faith, Ollie, and I know I'll be happy. Take good care of yourself. I'm sure you work too hard. Remember your work and your wife, and take care of your health!"
The reader who has followed the preceding pages does not need to be told why the Carrs finally left Australia. The admonition which each constantly gave the other—"Take care of your health,"—could not be observed. Even on holidays, as we have seen, hard work came pressing at the door; and the climate was never favorable to the constitution of the missionaries. They left, at last; but the Collingwood Church established through their efforts, remains to perpetuate their influence. At Hobart Town, success came in spite of active opposition. When Mr. Carr was challenged with the inquiry, 'What do you think is the design of baptism?'—his reply was as follows:
"'He that believes and is baptized shall be saved.' That is what the Savior says. That is what I think."
This reply was so unsatisfactory that he was refused the use of the baptistry. The town, less scrupulous in its views, proffered the use of public baths. The public would assemble upon the porch of the bathroom, and, in the salt water, the converts would be immersed. It was not in vain that Mr. Carr preached on "My sheep hear my voice." The entire Baptist Church with the exception of six came to the congregation at the rented hall. At the end of three months, Mrs. Carr joined her husband. During the year in Tasmania, they lived with the Smiths. Mrs. Carr taught music, and she and Mrs. Smith made sailors' caps and sold them to help on with the missionary work. Whaling ships came in there, and the demand for sailors' caps was unceasing.
But while Mrs. Carr thus lived in partial seclusion, sewing and teaching music lessons, her thoughts reached far beyond the straitened opportunities of the colonies. Five years from the native land had resulted so far as visible results went, in the establishment of two churches, one in Melbourne, one in Hobart Town. Such accomplishments were well worth the sacrifices they had demanded, but they were achievements aside from those definite ideals which she had formed at the beginning of her school life. Her boarding school in Melbourne had done much good, but it was not a permanent institution; with her departure, it passed away; and she was resolved that out of her life should come a monumental school, which, though she departed, should remain. Her plans conflicted with her husband's intense zeal for souls, hence she quietly worked away at sailors' caps, and agreed, if he thought best, to go next to New Zealand for the Cause. But at last, when it became manifest that his health demanded a rest from work too great for even a strong man, and a decided change of climate, she declared for a return to America. To go back meant not only the probable regaining of his health, but the carrying out of her educational ambitions; and in order the better to perfect herself in her chosen work, and to secure the needed rest for both, she resolved that they should spend the next year in travel, studying the countries of the Orient, and dwelling among the hills round about Jerusalem.
Mr. Carr to Mrs. Carr, from Hobart Town, January 17, 1873: "Last night we had our Tea Meeting and oh! such a Tea it was! Everybody seemed pleased with everything but one abominably long address. The speech of the evening had much about you; 'a lady of such rare abilities,' 'your condescension in coming amongst them,' 'they would never find your equal,' etc. The good you have done, your kindness to all, your talents, were dwelt upon by nearly every speaker. Poor Brother Jones could hardly restrain his feelings. He said he had never seen your like. The singing was splendid. The room was most tastefully decorated. 'Farewell to Brother and Sister Carr for a season,' and 'Welcome to Brother G. B. Moysey,' were the letters hanging about." (Mr. Carr's successor at Hobart Town was that Moysey who had sold his calf for learning.) "After Brother Moysey's first sermon on Lord's day, there was one confession. It was a grand sermon,—he is just the man for the place and I am sure will do a splendid work here. Everybody sends love to you. I am so excited, I'm ill. I do hate to go from here. I never knew before how much I thought of this people. I have spent three days taking Brother Moysey around to see the people in their homes. I am so sorry to hear of your illness. Take good care of your health. Love to Brothers Gore, Santo, and everybody—dear me! I can write no more."
