THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 The Story 
 
 EARNEST LIFE 
 
 A Woman's Adventures in Australia, 
 
 TV/O VOYAGES AROUND THE WORLD. 
 
 BY MRS. ELIZA DAVIES. 
 
 ' Life is real ! Life is earnest ! 
 And the grave is not its goal ; 
 Dust thou art, to dust returnest. 
 Was not spoken of the soul." 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 
 Central Book Concern, No. i8o Elm Strebt. 
 
 1881.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, by 
 
 MRS. ELIZA DAVIES. 
 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 For many years I resisted the earnest entreaties of many friends to 
 write an autobiography. I did so for two reasons : First, my inability 
 and inexperience as a writer; second, the pain which the effort would 
 cost me. But, finally, the honored and lamented Dr. Robert Richard- 
 son, of West Virginia, who was long a co-laborer of the illustrious Alex- 
 ander Campbell, and who knew me well, convinced -me that it was my 
 duty to write. With many tears, I have sacrificed my feelings at the 
 shrine of duty. 
 
 I claim for my narrative no literary merit, but I have tried to make 
 it as accurate in statement as it is sincere in design. It has pained me 
 to be compelled to place some, who were dear to me, in an unfavor- 
 able light; but the necessities of the case demanded it. I have written 
 an unvarnished story of a life of many vicissitudes, hoping that my 
 readers may derive strength from it under trials, temptations, pain, 
 privation, persecution, and exposure. I send it forth to the world with 
 the earnest prayer that the gracious God — who, in all my outgoings, 
 my incomings, and my shortcomings, has ever been my best Friend — 
 may make it a blessing to all who read it. 
 
 E. D. 
 
 Georgetown, Ky., December, 1880. 
 
 (iii) 
 
 503411
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 The Pupils of the Kentucky Female Orphan School, 
 
 AT 
 
 MIDWAY, WOODFORD COUNTY, KY. 
 
 Your privileges are more valuable than gold. Unlike the humble author of 
 this volume, you are passing the days of girlhood in a Christian atmosphere. 
 The Bible is in your hands — you are taught its precepts and encouraged to 
 obey them. Your teachers invite and exhort you to come to Christ, where 
 only is safety for the young ; and when you put Him on in baptism you have 
 many willing hands to help you. Prize highly your present privileges; and 
 may the Father of the fatherless enable you to employ your gifts to His glory. 
 
 (iv)
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 fAGE. 
 
 Chapter I. 
 My Childhood and Childhood's Home, 7 
 
 Chapter II. 
 Farewell to Scotland, 49 
 
 Chapter III. 
 Life and Sufferings in New South Wales, . • 84 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 From New South Wales to South Australia, 103 
 
 Chapter V. 
 An Exploring Expedition, 121 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 Sad Experience of Wedded Life, l6g 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 Return to New South Wales 203 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 Return to Scotland, 221 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 New Experiences in Scotland, 237 
 
 Chapter X. 
 Farewell to Scotland and Voyage to America, 262 
 
 Chapter XI. 
 
 \ Life in Bethany \ 280 
 
 \ 
 
 Chapter XII. 
 
 At the Kentucky Female Orphan School, 296 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 Plantation Life in the South, 310 
 
 Chatter XIV. 
 Preparing to Leave America, ......... 3^2 
 
 (V)
 
 yi CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Chapter XV. 
 Second Voyage to New South Wales, 334 
 
 Chapter XVI. 
 
 My Reception, • ♦ 346 
 
 Chapter XVII. 
 Teaching on Ilunicane Hill, and Other Labors 3^0 
 
 Chapter XVIII. 
 
 Voyage to South Australia, • • 40" 
 
 Chapter XIX. 
 Return to New South Wales, and Teaching in the Bush, . . . 43° 
 
 Chapter XX. 
 The New School-house, • 455 
 
 Chapter XXI. 
 The New System 5°! 
 
 Chapter XXII. 
 Third Voyage to South Australia, and Teaching in Adelaide, .. . 527 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 Voyage to America, 553
 
 ^lie Htoi^ of hi[ T[hi'T[Q^t I^ife. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 
 
 I WAS born at Paisley, in Scotland. This town is interesting to me, 
 not only as my birth-place, but as the site of an ancient abbey, with 
 its ruined monastery, and the historic Palace of Balgowny; ai^d, within 
 a radius of three miles around it, are, the birth-place of Sir William 
 Wallace, the ruins of Cruikstone Castle, and various other ruins of 
 historic interest. These all add a charm to the dear old town. When 
 very young, I lost my father — a loss I did not realize. I remember him 
 only as he lay in his coffin, ready to be carried to his last resting-place. 
 My mother was young, pretty, gay, and fond of society, and she was 
 soon married again to one who had loved her ere she saw my father. 
 
 All through my childhood's loving years my heart yearned for her 
 love. Nothing could eclipse my mother in my affection; but she would 
 have none of my homage — she turned away from my caresses with in- 
 difference, and my love was thrown back on my own heart. Many 
 and bitter are the tears I have shed, when, with open arms, I would 
 run to my mother and ask her to kiss me, and she would thrust me 
 from her. I was sent to school at a very tender age, but my education 
 did not wholly depend on master, pastor, or parent. There is a spirit 
 of independent knowledge pervading the very atmosphere we l^reathe 
 in Scotland. All ranks of people inhale it. We are susceptible to the 
 charms of beauty long before wc can reason about it. Nature's cloud- 
 pictures in the sky attract us, and the gold-brocaded carpet of emerald 
 that covers the earth. The foundations of my education were laid 
 among the heather-clad hills, rippling brooks, and glassy lakes of bon- 
 nie Scotland. Alone in hollow caves, worn by the resistless billows, 
 
 (vii)
 
 8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and on naked crags, have I very often stood, oppressed with thought 
 and with yearnings for something yet unknown. I had, as a gift from 
 the Creator — a precious gift — a love of the beautiful. It has impressed 
 on my mind forms both animate and inanimate, and memory brings 
 back the picture fresh to my mental vision. My imagination was early 
 stimulated by the legends of the mountains. 
 
 Maggie Campbell, my highland nurse, took me at an early age to 
 visit her mountain home in the Western Highlands, amid deep, dark 
 glens, and bonnie wee burns, with their rush and roar as they ap- 
 proached the precipice and dashed over in tiny cascades. Oh ! how I 
 wished to be old enough to read all the romantic histories of all the 
 people who had lived in the ruined piles of ancient grandeur, which 
 we passed on the banks of the beautiful Clyde. Maggie was full of 
 highland lore, and, though her narratives were greatly tinged with re- 
 ligious romance, I loved to listen to her broken English. She told me 
 of the brave Wallace, as we passed the rock on which stands Dumbar- 
 ton Castle. As we sailed into the Firth, and passed the historic isles 
 of Arran and Bute, my admiration was unbounded. We sailed up 
 Loch Fyne, celebrated for its "callar herrin" (fresh herrings), and 
 landed at the Gaelic Town of Loch Gilphead — my nurse's birth- 
 place, and the home of her mother, Luckie Campbell, and her brother, 
 Lachie. (Luckie means mother, or old woman.) She had three mar- 
 ried sisters, who lived high up among the hills, whose husbands were 
 farmers and fishermen. But more of them anon. 
 
 Maggie grew sick, and while she was being most affectionately 
 nursed by her mother, her brother Lachie (Lachlan) would carry me 
 to the sea-shore, and sit, or walk, or gather sea-weed and dulce and 
 shells, as best suited my humor. On these occasions he would tell me 
 tales of the hills and their inhabitants, which charmed me. I was ever 
 ready to listen to tales of "brave men and bonnie leddies," from what- 
 ever source. My good and faithful nurse told her mother that she had 
 come home to die, but dear old Luckie could not believe that her 
 Maggie should die. Nevertheless, she passed away to the better land, 
 and was laid down in a small picturesque graveyard, on a hillside over- 
 looking Loch Fyne. My love for Maggie was deep and sincere, and 
 when she was hidden from my sight forever, I shed many tears for the 
 loss of my dear friend. She seemed to have left a legacy of love to 
 each of her sisters, her mother, and her brother, to be lavished on me, 
 "the bonnie wee toon lassie," as they chose to call me. After one 
 of my rambles with Lachie on the beach, I ran up to the house which
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 9 
 
 Stood near by, and the first thing which attracted my attention was an 
 elegant crimson velvet bonnet, hanging on a nail, with a Prince of 
 Wales ostrich plume on it. I exclaimed, 
 
 "That is my mother's bonnet; who brought it here?" 
 
 "Your mother!" said a quiet voice behind me. I turned and saw 
 my mother, and would have embraced her, had she allowed me. On 
 hearing of the death of her faithful servant, she had come for me. I 
 was glad to see my mother, but sorry to leave. They made an agree- 
 ment that I should spend some weeks every summer among the hills. 
 This agreement gave me great delight, and many of the happiest days 
 of my childhood were those that I spent in the highlands during my 
 yearly visits. 
 
 Loch Gilphead lies at the head of the Loch Gilp, nestling at the 
 foot of a high hill. At this place the Crunnan Canal cuts through the 
 Peninsula of Cantyre, and joins Loch Fyne to the Sound of Jura. 
 This canal is cut through the midst of the wildest and most beautiful 
 scenery, and it is full of locks. Here I saw what was entirely new to 
 me — the canal boats going into and out of the basins formed by the 
 locks. I expressed a wish to board one of the boats and pass through 
 the locks, and when I felt myself floating down on a body of water into 
 an empty basin, and rise up again, I thought I had gained a wonder- 
 ful experience. 
 
 Luckie and Lachie took me to visit the other members of the family, 
 who lived amid the mountains. We started in an odd-looking little 
 carriage, drawn by two little shaggy Shetland ponies, on a bright, 
 breezy day; and, when we arrived at our destination, I was left among 
 a people who could not speak one word of English, except Luckie 
 Campbell's family, who had all sojourned in the Lowlands, and had 
 learned the language and manners of a higher civilization. 
 
 These hardy Scots are happy and contented, simple and virtuous. 
 Their highest happiness is to serve God, and horior their Queen, and 
 obey the laws of their country. The women and boys attend to the 
 small farms, while the men go out on the stormy Loch Fyne to catch 
 their far-famed herrings. 
 
 Our shaggy Shetlands drew us several miles through wild and ro- 
 mantic scenery, till we came to the foot of a high mountain, where we 
 had to leave them and take to our feet. We climbed and wound round 
 and up on a sheep track, or narrow pathway, through the heather, till 
 we reached a little plateau half way up the mountain. On this plateau 
 stood, nestling close together, a number of curious-looking buildings,
 
 lO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 in sliape much like square hay-stacks, with conical roofs. They were 
 built of unhewn stones, cemented with mud, and thatched with heather, 
 so that in the distance they were not distinguishable from the hill be- 
 hind them. I asked what these buildings were for. Luckie said: 
 ''That's Mary's hoos in the middle, that's the byre, and this is the 
 dairy beside it." Just then the "hoos" sent up through and among 
 the heather a blue column of curling vapor (peat reek), which declared 
 it to be a human habitation. We entered the sheeling by a low door- 
 way, and an opening with a wooden shutter served for a window. The 
 room was full of peat reek, so that for some time we could see nothing. 
 In the middle of the floor a large place was hollowed out, about one 
 foot deep and four in diameter, in the center of which was placed a 
 round, portable grate, filled with peat, burning brightly, from which 
 arose, in a great volume, the peat reek. A hole in the conical roof 
 was intended for its escape; but, ere it made its exit, it went curling 
 over, and around, and through everything, till the house was filled and 
 the inmates looked smoke-dried. Around the one large room, which 
 constituted the house, were bunks, one above another, with sliding 
 doors in front. These were beds for the family, their servants and 
 visitors. When the family were about to retire for the night, "the 
 Book" was handed to the father, who reverently read from it in Gaelic. 
 The family then sang a Gaelic psalm, and the father prayed in the 
 same tongue. They were reverently religious, and whether they lay 
 down in the recesses around the room, or went to their fishing-boats, 
 to be rocked on the stormy Loch, dark and dreary as it often was, they 
 committed themselves to the care of Him who neither slumbers nor 
 sleeps; of Him whose chosen friends were fishermen while He sojourned 
 upon earth. A cruse of oil hung from the rafters to give light to the 
 household; and when one wished to retire, he had only to disappear 
 behind the sliding-doors of the bunk. I was very much interested in 
 their primitive mode of serving and eating food. At breakfast, oat- 
 meal porridge, in a large wooden trencher, was placed upon a long, 
 low table; another trencher, filled with the richest, creamiest milk, 
 such as only Highland cows can give, was placed beside it; a large pile 
 of oatmeal bannocks stood also on the table; and a heap of cutty 
 (horn) spoons also adorned it. This was all. The family brought their 
 "creepy stools" (low stools) up to the side of the table, each took a 
 spoon, and all supped from the same trencher. This mode of eating 
 seemed to me so funny that I laughed out several times ; but I man- 
 aged to eat a good breakfast. At dinner, I did not succeed so well.
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. H 
 
 In one trencher was an immense heap of dry, mealy, red-coated, 
 laughing potatoes; in the other a heap of the most tempting herrings, 
 all smoking hot; and a pile of salt on the table between the trenchers. 
 No table-cloth, knife, fork, or plate to be seen. After grace was said, 
 each one took a potato in his hand, drew a fish by the tail to his side 
 of the table with his horny hand, peeled his potatoes with his fingers, 
 and ate his fish. I took one of the rosy bulbs in my hand, but I could 
 not peel it with my fingers. I tried my teeth, but I had to drop it. 
 Good and tempting as the herrings were, I did not like them. I said 
 nothing, and should have gone dinnerless had not Mary, the mistress, 
 come to my help. She spread a clean, coarse towel on a " muckle 
 kist" (large chest), put some potatoes on a plate, took out from her 
 Lowland treasures a knife and fork, gave me a basin of rich milk and a 
 boiled egg — and I feasted like a queen. 
 
 In harvest-time, women and children are all busy with their reaping- 
 hooks, cutting the grain. I, among the rest, with my kilted coat, and 
 wee jupe, attempted to shear the grain; but, instead, I cut my fingers, 
 and dropped the hook for aye. Some of the wild mountain children 
 were very beautiful, with black, curling hair falling over broad, white 
 brows, lustrous black eyes, and white, pearly teeth, with only kilt and 
 jacket on, showing to advantage their well-shaped limbs. The little 
 Gaelic that I had learned, enabled me to gather a group of these un- 
 tamed children around me, at times. To them I would recite, "A 
 chieftain to the Highlands bound;" but, as they did not understand 
 one word, I was not very edifying to them. They would stand open- 
 mouthed for awhile, with staring eyes, apparently very attentive. All 
 at once they would break and run, chattering in Gaelic to their hearts' 
 content, leaving me all alone in my glory. They seemed afraid of me 
 and my strange tongue. Thus left alone, I would stand and meditate, 
 or climb to the top of the highest mountain, till the spirit of solitude 
 would fill my whole being. Sometimes, when standing on the brow 
 of a hill, or the face of a cliff, or a projecting rock, I would startle the 
 reapers below with the sound of my voice, reciting a piece of prose or 
 poetry. They would look up and around, but could not see me, or 
 find whence the voice came. This delighted me. My mountain friends 
 marveled much at the fearlessness of the "wee toon lassie," with her 
 white skin, golden curls and slender form. I was in my element. The 
 mountain breezes bronzed my pale face, and climbing the rugged hills 
 gave my fragile form health and strength, while exploring the smaller 
 glens, gave me courage.
 
 12 Tin: STORY or an earnest life. 
 
 Twa boniiie lassies were Kate, with her sparkling black eyes, her 
 rosy lips and white teeth, and her raven hair coiled round her well- 
 shaped head; and Mary, with her lint-white locks and bonnie blue 
 een. The fresh breezes and peat reck had bronzed their faces; they 
 were full of robust health and lithe of limb, and merry as the morn- 
 ing. Well, these two, one wet, drizzling morning, were going some 
 distance to take flax out of a peat hole, where it had rotted, in order 
 lo have it spread out to dry. I wished to go with them, as the place 
 where they were going, and the thing they were going to do, were alike 
 new to me; but they positively refused to take me. I felt crest-fallen 
 at this, but I begged very hard to go. 
 
 "No, no!" they said; "the wee toon lassie will tak' cold and be 
 sick, an' she must na gang." 
 
 I protested, and at last prevailed upon them to take me. I doffed my 
 shoes and stockings and frock, donned a kilted coat and jupe, and with 
 a tartan plaid over my head, pinned under my chin, crossed on my 
 breast and fastened behind, leaving my limbs all free, I started off, full 
 of glee, with my two companions. 
 
 We crossed the wee burn, that rippled by the cottage-door, dancing 
 on its joyous way. I often sat beside this burn, with naked, idle feet, 
 dashing and splashing the tiny wavelets, as quiedy they glided on their 
 way to the mountain's brow. It served for a laver to the cottagers. 
 But the contrast between the rippling brook on sunshiny days, and the 
 rushing, roaring cataract that I saw tumbling over the cliff this rainy 
 day, was very great. We had to cross a large bog, and to see my two 
 guides hop, skip and jump, leaping and laughing over this bog, would 
 have delighted me, had I been able to follow them. My little feet got 
 entangled among the twigs, and I fell and called for help. The two 
 lithe figures bounded back, each caught a hand, and landed me safe on 
 the other side. They advised me to turn back, but this I would not 
 do. One difficulty was overcome, and another presented itself. A 
 big "stanedyke" (high, stone wall) had to be climbed over. This I 
 managed to do without help, and then climbed a precipitous rock; and, 
 when rounding the projecting point of the mountain, my heart almost 
 stood still at the sight of a deep, dark abyss, into which tumbled sev- 
 eral angry, swollen mountain torrents. We had to walk on the almost 
 perpendicular face of a mountain, overlooking the wildest glen I had 
 yet seen. I was told if my head turned dizzy, to look up and hold to 
 the twigs that grew out of the face of the wall which rose high above 
 us on the other side.
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. IJ 
 
 I took heed to my instructions, and it was well for me that I did ; 
 for one false step and destruction was inevitable. I held to the twigs 
 of heather, and looked up to the beetling crags above me; and, though 
 dark and frowning, they enabled me, by keeping my eye fixed above, 
 to move along with firm foot and steady head. The pathway was nar- 
 row and, in some places, slippery; but, chamois-like, we made our 
 way in safety to our destination. The peat hole was full of water and 
 bundles of flax. Katy stepped lightly upon one of the bundles of flax, 
 and, balancing herself, she began to throw out the bundles to Mary, 
 who caught them and drew them to the solid ground. I admired the 
 ease and grace with which Katy lifted and threw the bundles out, and 
 I wished to imitate her. So I stepped lightly upon one of the movables, 
 balanced myself, and was proud of my feat; but my triumph was short 
 lived. I stooped to lift a bundle, but found it too heavy ; so I tried 
 to push it to shore, instead of which I pushed the bundle from under 
 my feet* and fell splash into deep water, and would soon have been 
 drowned had not Mary, who was watching me, caught hold of the 
 bundle that my hands clutched, then caught my hands, and pulled me 
 out. We left for home as soon as all the flax was landed, taking a 
 longer and less dangerous road on our return. I was wet and weary, 
 but next morning I arose well in body and happy to think of my ad- 
 venture. 
 
 A messenger from I.och Gilphead brought a letter from my mother, 
 recalling me home. With regret, I parted from these hardy Highlanders. 
 They were loving and kind to me — they petted and indulged me, and 
 I loved them dearly. 
 
 On reaching home, I found my mother preparing to make a visit to 
 friends in the Emerald Isle, on which I was to accompany her. We rowed 
 in a boat three miles down the river Cart, and then embarked in the 
 steamer Fingal, which steamed down the Clyde, The Fingal was a fast 
 boat, and we expected in twelve hours from the time we left Greenock 
 quay, to steam up Belfast lough. But we reckoned without the storm 
 spirit, as the sequel will show. We were six days in reaching our des- 
 tined port. We had a delightful sail down the Clyde, under sunny .skies 
 and amid romantic scenery, till we reached Greenock. Here we took 
 in the last of our cargo, which was .several puncheons of Scotch whisky 
 and several barrels of Jamaica rum. These were lashed to the deck. 
 Every portable thing was secured, and we set sail with a motley crowd 
 on1)oard; Irishmen with crownless hats, and wisps of straw tied round 
 them, and the like ornamental band tied round their trousers under the
 
 14 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 knee. These were rough, rowdy Romanists, all drinking, swearing 
 and swaggering, brandishing the whisky-bottle and the shillaly. Irish 
 women, with long, blue cloaks on, all wearing "mutches" (caps) more 
 or less dirty. These poor creatures had been harvesting for the Low- 
 landers of Scotland, and with their earnings half spent on whisky and 
 tobacco, were returning to their half-starved families with what remained. 
 They were a sorry lot of deck-passengers. Wind and tide were with 
 us for an hour or two, when the wind veered round, and rising gradu- 
 ally, burst into a furious gale. The pent-up waters between the islands 
 Bute and Cumbray and the main land began to seethe and surge, and 
 became so boisterous that we were driven hither and thither, in spite 
 of all the steam we could get up. The clouds poured down their con- 
 tents, not in drops but in streams. The lightning flashed, and louder 
 roared the thunder, and darker and darker grew the night. Then a 
 cry, louder than the storm, came from the lookout, "Breakers ahead!" 
 We had to "bout ship" in a hurry to escape the Crag of Ailsa, a 
 huge rock over i,ooo feet high, near the middle of the Firth, as it 
 opens into the North Channel. This rock is the terror of all coasters, 
 as round it the waters whirl and break, and the foam rises, at times, to 
 a great height. My mother, instead of going to the cabin when the 
 other passengers went, sat down under an awning that was spread 
 over a handsome carriage that was lashed to the deck. There she sat 
 till all the cabin-doors were fastened, ^d the hatches battened down. 
 So we were compelled to stay on deck. And, oh ! what cursing and 
 praying to the Virgin Mary was going on in the forward part of the 
 boat, among the Irish. It was perfectly awful. There was one drunken 
 priest. He was praying to the Virgin Mary, and made strange prom- 
 ises to her if she would save them. The waves seemed to grow wilder 
 as the night grew darker. The sea broke over us every now and then. 
 At times, I was sitting to my waist in water. One tremendous wave 
 broke over the ship, carrying away her bulwarks and every thing that had 
 not been well secured. At that moment, my mother's perilous condi- 
 tion was discovered by one of the officers, who dragged her, half dead, 
 to one of the side cabins, and shut her in. She could only say, 
 
 " My child! " The man came back to where I was coiled up, and feel- 
 ing with his feet, picked up a bundle and thrust it into the cabin beside 
 my mother, saying: 
 
 "If that's your child, well; if not, it's gone." All the lashings gave 
 way, and I had scarcely been lifted from under the carriage when it 
 was washed clean overboard. The whisky and rum puncheons broke
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME. 15 
 
 loose, were staved in, and hundreds of gallons of the burning liquid 
 flooded the decks. The fearful cry, 
 
 "Fire ! fire !" was heard. The spirits had found a way to the furnaces, 
 and all was quickly ablaze. But, fortunately, the fire was soon quenched 
 by the seas that swept over us, and the liquor was washed overboard into 
 the sea. Mother and I sat cold, and wet, and sea-sick in the little, dark 
 cabin; the stewardess could not get to us. All through that night 
 of terror we were cooped up. I had no feeling of fear, but I thought 
 we must be drowned. I was happy to be beside my mother. Day- 
 light came, and showed us our shattered condition, and also our danger. 
 The chopping sea and shifting wind would not allow us to steer past the 
 Crag of Ailsa, and now it was full in sight, with breakers roaring 
 around it. A fearful sweep of the gale drove us right past it; on and 
 on we were driven before the fury of the tempest, helpless enough, 
 with broken spars and sails rent to ribbons, and the pumps hard at 
 work. The ship could not keep her course, but was still driven on, 
 past the Mull of Galloway, into the Irish Sea. But we could not cross 
 the North Channel, in the teeth of such a gale, in our shattered con- 
 dition. We tried to find a place of shelter; we turned to look for 
 Loch Ryan. Just as we were about to double Corsewell Point, our 
 engines suddenly stopped. 
 
 "The boilers will burst, or are bursting," was the next agonizing cry. 
 Our mast, rudder, sails, bulwarks, all gone, and our engines stopped; 
 we were entirely at the mercy of the wind and waves. Another night 
 of gloom had gathered round us; but not before we had seen the high 
 and frowning rocks, and the jagged shingles shelving under the waves 
 or lifting their pointed summits above the breakers of this dangerous 
 headland. 
 
 " We are doomed,'^ cried the master of the ship, as he heard the roar 
 of the breakers on the thousand broken fragments of rock that former 
 tempests had riven from the parent cliff. Blue lights were hung out; 
 rockets were sent up into the darkness, and the minute gun was fired 
 — all signals of distress. We were in momentary expectation of hear- 
 ing and feeling the last dreadful crash, when all would have sunk into 
 eternal silence. But it did not come. Whether the Virgin Mary 
 heard the prayers and strange promises of her votary, the drunken 
 priest, or not, she received full credit for saving her worshipers; and, 
 through their prayers, the ship and all the heretics on board. A large 
 steamer had run into the loch for shelter that day; she saw the rockets, 
 and heard our signals of distress, while she rode at anchor in safety.
 
 1 6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 She quickly weighed anchor, came to our rescue, and tOTTCtl ns inside 
 to a safe anchorage opposite the town of Cairn, about two miles from 
 the shore. The sudden stopping of our engines was caused by a little 
 fish, which accidentally got jammed into the conduit, and cut off the 
 sujDply of water to the boilers. Many a curse was hurled at the little 
 fish, while the pipes were being cut open to thrust him out. 
 
 As soon as we anchored, our only boat was lowered to take the pas- 
 sengers ashore. My mother was one of the first to go ashore : she left 
 me on board to wait her return. I watched the boat as it rose high, 
 and then sank out of sight behind the billows. I feared several times 
 that she had gone down to rise no more; but up she came again and 
 finally she touched the shore. Mother, hearing that the vessel would 
 remain a day or two, sent for me. A gentleman asked if I would be 
 afraid to go in the boat with him to the shore. 
 
 *'0h, no," said I; so he lifted me up and handed me down to a man 
 in the boat, just as if I had been a kitten, then swung himself down, took 
 me on his lap and held me fast while we rose and sank on the stormy 
 waves. I believe all our passengers landed safely. But not so a boat 
 full of men from another ship which sought safety from the raging tem- 
 pest outside. The boat capsized, and all but one old man went down 
 into a watery grave, right before our eyes. The old man buffeted the 
 waves bravely and swam to shore. He was an old tar, and as he came 
 out of the water, shaking his wet clothes and shaggy head, he said 
 that he had sailed too far out on the ocean to come so near home to 
 be drowned. 
 
 The Cairn is only a small town on the eastern shore of Loch Ryan, 
 a long row of houses built on a slope toward the beach. An unpre- 
 tending, though very comfortable inn provided for us a warm fire and 
 a hot breakfast, both of which we greatly needed. We had our clothes 
 dried while we went to bed to have a sleep. Our trunk being on board, 
 v/e could not get a change of dress. I slept all that day and night, 
 and while I slept in comfort the storm raged without. A great num- 
 ber of vessels of all sizes had sought the shelter of the Loch, and 
 though they were tossed about considerably, yet they were safe. 
 
 Never on that coast, and it is a dangerous one, Avas such a gale 
 known to blow in the memory of the oldest man. Many a proud and 
 richly freighted East India-man, and other meaner craft, sank in the 
 waves. Our vessel was being patched up, and getting ready for sea 
 as soon as the storm was quieted. I was the only child on board our
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. I7 
 
 ship, ana the gentlemen all said I was a brave little sailor, and I was 
 a good deal petted by them. • 
 
 One more day and night and we moved out of Loch Ryan, and pro- 
 ceeded on our watery way. We reached Belfast on our sixth day out, 
 a very sad contrast to what we were when we left Greenock. The 
 Fingal, though one of the finest steamers on the Firth, was so weather- 
 beaten and broken that she was not recognized, as she slowly steamed 
 up the lough. 
 
 Three pilot-boats had been sent out in search of us when we fell be- 
 hind time, and all three, with their crews, were lost in the gale. 
 
 What a commotion was created when we landed on Belfast quay. It 
 had been reported that we were lost, and we were received by the en- 
 thusiastic Irish as if the sea had given us up again. 
 
 "Blessed be St. Patrick and the Holy Mother! " was shouted by the 
 crowd. I found myself, if not an object of interest, at least an object 
 of curiosity, to a host of young ragamuffins, who crowded around me 
 and called out : 
 
 *'Look at the Httle Scot! She's half drownded." 
 
 "Och ! let's see the half-drownded little Scot?" said one, and my wraps 
 were nearly pulled off my shoulders, to my great discomfort. The gen- 
 tleman whose carriage was waiting for us, rescued me from my young 
 tormentors. We were taken, amid cheers and liuzzas, from the crowd 
 
 to the house of my mother's friends, Mr. and Mrs. Q n. The lady 
 
 received us with a warm Irish welcome. She kissed me most affection- 
 ately, as if she loved me very much. I w^ondered at a strange lady 
 kissing me, when my mother never did. These friends had no children, 
 so I had petting to my heart's content while I was with them. 
 
 My mother's elegant wardrobe, that she had brought with her, was 
 totally destroyed by the sea water. 
 
 I hate monkeys. I went out a little distance from the house one 
 day, sight-seeing. I saw a woman at the corner of the street, with a 
 sheet spread out, full of apples for sale. "Twenty four a penny!" 
 she called out. I invested a penny and had to hft my frock in order 
 to carry my load. I returned to the house, and went to the kitchen to 
 see how the cook roasted her beef. I stood with my back on the edge 
 of the open door, and swung from side to side eating an apple. I felt 
 a hand on my shoulder and looked around, and saw ^ large monkey 
 stretching down from the top of the door, first to touch me and then 
 to beg for an apple. I gave him one, and he quickly disappeared with 
 it to his house over the door. In a minute he was at my shoulder 
 2
 
 l8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 again. I gave him another, and another, in quick succession, till he 
 nearly had all my apples. I began to think he was a greedy monkey, 
 and had not eaten, but hidden the apples. So, when he came again, I 
 gave him a slight tap on the side of his head, and told him he was 
 greedy. He ran to the top of the door with a hideous yell, and, show- 
 ing his teeth, he pounced down upon my head, bit and scratched me, 
 and tore out my hair. The blood streamed over my face and shoulders. 
 It was with great difficulty he was made to let go his ugly grip. I was 
 taken up stairs to my mother, crying and covered with blood. My 
 mother was startled, sent for a doctor, had my wounds dressed, my yel- 
 low curls all cut off, my head bandaged, a cap put on, and then put me 
 to bed. I have had no friendship for monkeys since that time. 
 
 Our pleasant host and hostess took us to see the lions of Belfast in a 
 jaunting-car — I mean a car that resembles two sofas placed back to back 
 — and we sat with our feet hanging over the side above the wheels. I 
 was in constant dread of falling off at every jerk, and we had not a 
 few, as the car had no springs. Our delightful visit over, we embarked 
 on board another fine steamer for home. 
 
 We had a safe and speedy passage to Greenock, where we had 
 breakfast. I drank a cup of hot coffee — the first I had ever tasted. 
 Our nursery table was never furnished with strong coffee, or tea, or hot 
 bread. Our constitutions were not tampered with. We grew strong 
 and healthy on simple food, well prepared, and plenty of it. The 
 steamer unloaded a portion of her cargo, and a few passengers landed 
 here also, and then she sailed, taking my mother and leaving me behind. 
 
 The spiteful old monkey had done my head great damage, besides 
 taking my golden locks from me. He left my head very sore, and the 
 doctor prescribed sea-bathing for me; so my mother left me with our 
 friends at Greenock. Here I had a delightful time, and was well 
 nursed and cared for. I was quite a lion, or at least a cub. I had 
 been out at sea in the great gale, and came back alive. I was a nat- 
 ural curiosity to tlie children who came to see me, and I M'as quite 
 proud of my distinction and great experience. Greenock is twenty 
 miles below Glasgow, and stands on the west side of the Estuary of 
 the Clyde, partly on a small tract of level land, and partly on some 
 fine commanding heights, which rise in terraces behind and on the 
 west side of the town. It has a great many beautiful buildings. It is 
 a busy place. Sugar refineries, ship-building yards, iron foundries and 
 machine shops, paper and sail-cloth factories, distilleries, breweries, 
 tanneries, etc., are all at work, day and night, by the powerful aid of
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME . 1 9 
 
 Steam. The harbors are spacious, and they have every accommoda- 
 tion for shipping. A century ago, James Watt was born in Greenock, 
 and it was then but a small fishing village. Now, by the discovery 
 and application of steam, it has a large population and all these indus- 
 tries at work. Many a splendid steamship leaves this port to plow the 
 mighty deep; many an iron horse goes snorting, with a long and heavy 
 train behind him, by means of the power that was discovered in a tea- 
 kettle. 
 
 I had a fine opportunity of visiting all the beautiful towns on the 
 Firth of Clyde. My host had a brother who was master of a beauti- 
 ful steamer, which plied between all the noted watering-places on the 
 Firth, and with him I had many a pleasant trip. There was danger in 
 crossing the Firth on rough days, but nothing roused my enthusiasm 
 so much as being out on the water in stormy weather. 
 
 I was strolling along -the quays one day, looking at the docks and 
 ships. I saw two little boys wrestling on the brink of one of the docks, 
 which was half full of water. Each little fellow tried to throw the 
 other down. Fast locked in each other's arms, both at last tumbled 
 over headlong into the dock. A loud splash, and the water closed over 
 them. I screamed out: "Two children in the water! " but, as no one 
 but myself saw them fall in, no one seemed to heed the cry. I called 
 out: "Save the boys! " Some men near by ran down the steps of the 
 dock, but saw nothing, for the boys had sunk a second time. "The 
 boys are drowning!" I cried, in tones which were heard by a tall, 
 handsome, well-dressed youth, who came near me. I pointed to the 
 spot, he obeyed the signal, plunged into the water, dove, and brought 
 up the poor little fellows. The men on the side-steps received the 
 burden. The unconscious children were carried to the nearest house, 
 and the usual remedies were used, which brought one back to life, but 
 the spirit of the other had escaped to the better land. After the young 
 gent'cman had delivered his precious burden to the men, he clambered 
 up the side of the dock, stood a minute to wring some of the water 
 out of the elegant clothes he had spoiled, and then walked away as if 
 nothing had happened. Oh ! how my heart bounded out toward him, 
 to thank him for his deed of nobleness; but he was gone. The crowd 
 followed the children. I stood alone, wondering at all that had passed 
 within the last fifteen minutes. I wondered if any other young man 
 would do as this one had done. I did not know, but he has ever lived 
 in my memory — a much admired hero. 
 
 I had been sent for to come home and attend to my dancing lessons.
 
 20 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 This was a most important class, and must not be neglected, whatever 
 else was. I was passionately fond of music and dancing. It is strange 
 that though all over the world Presbyterians are opposed to dancing, 
 yet in the very cradle of Presbyterianism no education is considered 
 complete without it. As soon as I arrived at home, I asked for my 
 mother. She was in the parlor; I ran to where she was; I longed to 
 clasp her round the neck and lie on her bosom ; but this liberty I was 
 never allowed. My mother did not see me as I stood at the parlor 
 door admiring her. To me she looked so pretty that I did not like to 
 break the spell. I moved a httle closer, she looked around, saw me, 
 and said she was going to have company, and sent me up stairs. 
 No welcome kiss, no kindly greeting for me! Ah, me! my heart 
 sank. A dark shadow that had no brightness, crept over my 
 spirit that night; it has beclouded many a day, and the memory 
 of it bedims my eye, even now, after so many years. Some great 
 man says, "It is folly to grieve over past suffering." He says, "The 
 suffering that is past, is as truly non-existant as the suffering that never 
 has been at all." This is true of physical suffering. But the remem- 
 brance of our past life is a great part of our present life. I believe, I 
 feel, I know that past sorrows are a great reality in my present life, 
 whether for good or ill. It will not do to tell me that past sufferings 
 have ceased to exist, while their remembrance remains so vivid, and 
 the results such as they are. The great sorrow of my childhood was, 
 that my mother had no room in her heart for me. I do not think that 
 she laid herself out deliberately to torment me ; but there was an un- 
 natural repression of all my joyous childish feelings, a weeding out 
 of all endearment from my young life. 
 
 Concerts were given semi-anually by my music master, and balls by 
 my dancing teacher. These parties were thoroughly enjoyed by me. 
 My whole heart was in them ; but they had a drawback that nearly 
 spoiled all the pleasure. Children love to tell each other what they 
 are going to wear at a party, and enjoy the anticipation of putting a 
 new dress on, and admiring it before it is put on, as much as the 
 reality; but I never had an opportunity to admire my pretty things till 
 they were on my person ; for I never knew what I was to wear till the 
 time came to dress for the concert. Then I had no time to enjoy the 
 beauty of my richly embroidered India muslin dress, my dainty white 
 satin slippers, my long white kid gloves and broad satin sash. Hie to 
 the concert or ball room as soon as dressed; there I could admire 
 others, if not myself. It was a pretty sight to see fifty or sixty little
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 21 
 
 boys and girls dancing the garland dance. It was like a fairy scene, 
 each holding a garland of beautiful flowers over her head like a picture 
 frame, and many a sweet face peeping out from under the flowery arch. 
 None of the indelicate, immodest dances that are in vogue now, were 
 then known; consequently I never saw in the ball room anything lead- 
 ing to licentiousness, or even suggestive of impropriety. O, that 
 mothers would ever protect their innocent children from learning the 
 dances which lead to death ! I believe my mother enjoyed seeing me 
 dance in the ball room. 
 
 I was once practicing my music for a grand concert, when my 
 mother suddenly came into the room, and thus accosted me : 
 
 "Do you think you can sing?" 
 
 "I do not know," I said, "but the master says I can, and he has 
 given me several pieces to practice." 
 
 My mother repeated my words, and then said : 
 
 "I hate to hear you sing, and you shall not sing at the concert." 
 
 I looked up to her face in consternation and said, "The programme 
 is printed, and I must take my part, the master expects me to do so." 
 
 ' ' If you go upon the platform to sing, I shall pull you down. I 
 am master, and I say, you shall not sing at the concert." 
 
 "The master will be disappointed," I said. 
 
 "I shall be implicidy obeyed," said my mother. I did not sing at that 
 concert or any other concert, evermore. The voice of the canary was 
 hushed, no more song from her throat. My spirit was crushed. I 
 took no interest in learning music after that, though my mother paid 
 Professor M. for teaching me. I made no advance, though passion- 
 ately fond of it. As usual, I was sent away from home on the day of 
 the concert. When I came home in time to dress, I went into my room 
 to see what I was to wear. I saw a very beautiful black Norwich 
 crape dress on the bed. I asked the servant where was my dress : she 
 pointed to the bed. My mother does not mean that I shall wear a 
 black dress! I was told that she did mean it for she placed it there, 
 and I was to make haste and dress, for my cousins were coming for me. 
 I held back, hoping that a white dress would yet be forthcoming. My 
 mother dispelled the illusion by coming to see if I was nearly dressed, 
 but I was crying and had not begun to dress. I asked why I had to 
 wear a black dress, but was told to dress at once, and ask no questions. 
 I had either to dress in black and go to the concert, or go to bed. I 
 had two minutes to choose, after that I should have no choice. I very 
 reluctantly put on the dress, nothing white about me but my shoes and
 
 22 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 gloves. I cried all the time I was dressing. I was ready when my 
 cousins came for me. The girls did not get out of the carriage; only 
 Cousin Jack, who had just come home from the Indies. He was a 
 midshipman, and I had not seen him since his return. I was ashamed 
 of my black dress and red swollen face, but I was glad to see him and 
 dried my eyes. Cousin Jack was a great favorite with me, and it 
 would have given me great pleasure had my mother allowed me to 
 know he was coming with his sisters for me. Kind Jack took no no- 
 tice of my mortified feelings. He talked me out of myself ere we 
 reached the Tontine Hotel. What was my astonishment on entering 
 the assembly room, to see all Professor M.'s scholars dressed in black. 
 Why was this, I asked, and was told that one of the royal family was 
 dead, and the Professor had requested his patrons to dress their chil- 
 dren in black in honor of the dead, which they did. How much 
 misery would I have escaped had my mother only told me this. But 
 her intention was to teach me unquestioning obedience. Well, I 
 obeyed reluctantly, because I did think my dress would be laughed at 
 by my school-mates, and it was a very great trial to me, and all the 
 admiration which was lavished upon my dress was lost upon me. The 
 pleasure I might have had was crushed out of me. The principle of 
 obedience is right; but the manner in which I was taught it, made my 
 spirit ofttimes rebel. The sorrov^s of my childhood made me strangely 
 thoughtful, and I was as much alone in my thoughts as was Robinson 
 Crusoe on his island. 
 
 It is well said that there is a Providence over children, for they 
 are cared for even when parents are careless. On a bright, sunshiny 
 Sunday morning, my half-sister and I set out on a trip to Dumbarton 
 Castle as blithe and merry as a canary and a black bird could be. 
 (At home we were named canary and black bird on account of the 
 color of our hair.) Our journey wound along the banks of the White 
 Cart for three miles, amidst the richest verdure and sweetest song. 
 Oh, how calm and beautiful was nature at this time. My heart seemed 
 flooded with a sweet joy. I could give no reason for the feehng. I 
 simply felt happy. The banks of the Clyde were still more glorious 
 with their deep shades, their beautiful retreats, their green hillocks and 
 grassy flats. The castles and cottages that gleamed in the sunshine 
 through the grand old forest trees, presented everywhere beautiful pic- 
 tures, and the great Ben Nevis a splendid background. I was delighted 
 
 to be able to tell B of the different places as we passed; but she 
 
 took no interest in what I told her. Perhaps I was not as entertaining
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 23 
 
 as Highland Maggie had been to me, though I tried to be. We sat 
 down on a knoll under the shade of a large tree, and ate our lunch, 
 which was very sweet. B was so tired that she had no more en- 
 joyment in our walk. She wanted to go back home to her dolls and 
 playthings. I pointed to the castle and said : 
 
 "We are near Dumbarton." With a pout she said: 
 
 "I only see two hills sticking together." 
 
 "Well," I said, "on these two hills the castle is built." 
 
 Poor B had never been so far from home before. She was the 
 
 petted and sheltered one, whilst I was roaming, unheeded, over moun- 
 tain-tops, in deep glens, on swift-gliding streams, or on the stormy 
 firth. We were being educated for our different spheres in life. When 
 opposite to the castle we hailed a boat and crossed the Clyde right un- 
 der the walls of the renowned fortress. Oh ! how my heart beat while 
 I stood looking at these huge, massive stone walls, wide and deep, and 
 turreted and towered, bastioned and battlemented, with soldiers walk- 
 ing on top of the walls — so far up that they looked like puppets. I 
 dare say that they could not see us wee midgets from their elevation. 
 We stood where the brave Sir William Wallace stood nearly six hun- 
 dred years before, looking for a place to scale these formidable walls! 
 Here he struck the first blow for liberty; from here, by his daring in- 
 trei:»idity, he drove the opi:)ressors of his country. What a boon was 
 this for Scotland! But this was only an earnest of what he vowed to 
 do for his beloved country. Noble man! He delivered Scodand from 
 the English yoke of slavery, and was himself delivered to an English 
 scaffold. We entered the wide gateway, passed the huge portcullis. 
 It was out of sight now. No enemy was about to enter; peace reigned 
 within and without. 
 
 We went up a long flight of wide stone steps till we reached the level 
 of the foundation of the first battlements. It was a curious sight to 
 see the soldiers lying on the glacis reading and sunning themselves, and 
 the sentinel with measured steps pacing the rampart. We continued 
 our ascent till we reached the summit of the lower cone, on which the 
 ponderous buildings of the castle stood. We entered a gateway and 
 stood within a tower in a massive wall. Everything was massive. We 
 were at the entrance of the citadel, and a soldier informed brother 
 Tom tliat two very young ladies wished to see him. We wished to 
 surprise him and did not tell who we were. When Tom entered the 
 tower by a door from the inside of the wall, how pleasant to see the 
 glad surprise that ruled lines on his handsome face. He put his arms
 
 24 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 round us both and kissed us; took a hand of each and led us into the 
 citadel. I was happy then — I felt that some one loved me — and my 
 poor little heart Avas grateful that one so handsome, in his scarlet coat 
 and shiny epaulets, and great brown eyes looking so kindly into mine, 
 and showing so much care for me, was my kinsman. He was a half- 
 brother by a former marriage. What a contrast to his brother with the 
 keen blue eye and cutting glance, whose look was freezing and had 
 forever chilled my love for him. We three had a cozy dinner, and as 
 
 B was very tired she lay down and went to sleep. I was not 
 
 tired, and after dinner I asked Tom to take me out and show me things. 
 I threw my arms round his neck with all the artless ardor of my nature, 
 and told him how much I loved him. He reciprocated my affection, 
 and we promised to love each other all our days — a promise which has 
 been kept. We started to explore. Tom took me to the summit of 
 the taller cone, by a long, narrow, almost perpendicular stair. We had 
 to climb behind each other, the stairway was so narrow. When we 
 reached the top we had a full view of the tremendous mass of build- 
 ings on the lower cone. On this pinnacle stood the powder magazine, 
 out of the reach of danger, and a tall flagstaff, from which floated the 
 national colors. We sat down at the foot of the flagstaff, while he told, 
 and I listened to, tales of the castle. He told me of Edwin Ruthven's 
 exploits, and how Wallace and his brave followers scaled the almost 
 perpendicular walls. He pointed to Wallace's Tower, standing on the 
 cleft between the two summits, in which the sword of the noble patriot 
 is preserved. I was promised a sight of it on the morrow, with thou- 
 sands of others besides. Next morning, before the sleepers of the 
 castle were astir, I was up and away to the top of the flagstaff summit, 
 drinking in through the eye all I could of this stronghold, once the 
 prison of the liberties of Scotland. But the invincible two-edged 
 sword of the conquering hero was the key, wielded by giant strength, 
 and the gates flew open and let the captives free. When I saw Tom 
 coming up the stair I gave a glad cry and ran round the pole. Tom 
 gave chase and caught me and led me down to breakfast, then to the 
 Tower of the renowned chief. We entered on the first floor of the 
 armory, where thousands of guns were stacked Jike bristles in a clothes 
 brush. Swords, pistols, spears, and every kind of war weapon orna- 
 mented the walls, in shapes of crowns, crescents, stars, and various 
 other artistic devices, all very wonderful to my young eyes. Shields 
 and coats of arms, coats of mail, helmets, armor, tattered banners and 
 trophies of war were hung around everywhere. But that which had
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 25 
 
 the deepest interest for me was the two-edged sword of Scotland's 
 champion. There it hung glittering bright, with here and there a dull 
 spot. I looked upon it with awe. It was taken down that I might 
 handle it. I tried to lift it, but I was not able — it was so large and 
 heavy. Several inches were broken off the point, yet it was longer 
 than I was tall. The basket which covered the hilt was made of steel, 
 with figures wrought in bass-relief all over it. It was as large as a 
 good-sized punch bowl. None but a giant could wield such a ponder- 
 ous weapon. Wallace was e.xceedingly handsome, of surpassing size 
 and strength and courage. George the Fourth, King of England, or- 
 dered this sword to be carried to the Tower of London, to be had in 
 safe-keeping. But the Scots were indignant at an English king think- 
 ing he could take better care of their champion's sword than they 
 could. They murmured at the sword being where the owner's brave 
 life had been taken from him. The king kindly restored the sword to 
 its rightful place, and now it adorns Wallace's Tower at Dumbarton. 
 Sir WiUiam Wallace, his country's savior, will live for ages, as he has 
 lived — a rich and proud heritage to his country. His fame lives in 
 glens and caves, in towers and trees. Rocks and ravines have been 
 hallowed by the tread of his weary feet. The small but lovely Carron 
 has an historic interest connected with the meeting of the Wallace and 
 the Bruce on its banks. Clyde, Dumbarton, Stirling, Ellerslie — his birth- 
 place — all are consecrated spots. Enthusiasm kindles at the name of 
 Wallace. In every home his name is a household word. 
 
 The town of Paisley was divided into parishes, and we at one time 
 
 lived in the Middle Kirk parish. The Rev. Mr. B was minister 
 
 of the Middle Kirk, and visited his parishoners occasionally, our fam- 
 ily amongst the others, though we never went to his kirk. He wished, 
 being a new minister, to make the acquaintance of his people; but our 
 family did not wish to make his acquaintance, and were, as a rule, not 
 at home when he was expected. On one occasion, I was at home; 
 and, though I was afraid of ministers, I soon felt quite at home with 
 Mr B . He asked me if I went to Sunday-school. 
 
 "No," I said. 
 
 "At our kirk we are going to open one, will you come and help us to 
 organize?" I laughed at this idea. I said: 
 
 "I do not know how." He smiled at my ignorance, put his hand 
 upon my head, and said: 
 
 "Come, anyhow." I promised to do so. He shook hands with me, 
 and 1 have never been afraid of ministers since.
 
 26 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I went to the Sunday-school, where were several gentlemen teachers, 
 but no ladies. Instead of placing me in a class with ignorant girls, Uke 
 myself, to he instructed, they gave me a class of girls, bigger and older 
 than myself, to teach. This was great folly on their part, as the sequel 
 will show. Of course, I could teach them nothing. I could read better 
 than they, and could hear them read and recite, and tell them of mis- 
 takes, that was all. I gave them tickets when their lessons were good. 
 My big scholars seemed to like their little teacher, for one of them one 
 day gave me a little package of lozenges; I thought her very kind, but her 
 lesson was bad that day; I did not think she ought to have had a ticket, 
 and so told her. She begged me to give her one this time. I thought 
 of her kindness and gave her one, on condition, that she would have 
 a better lesson next Sunday. This she promised to have. Next Sun- 
 day, I had seven or eight packages, and as many bad lessons. I tried 
 to look dignified; I was afraid to give tickets, the lessons did not just- 
 ify me in so doing; but the smiling faces and pleading voices prevailed. 
 All promised to do better next time. Next time, I had my little pres- 
 ents as usual (value about one cent each). One idle girl, who never 
 had a good lesson, and never had received a ticket, nor given me a 
 present, gave me one this day; and, as usual, a bad lesson. I could 
 not in conscience give her a ticket. She asked me why I did not 
 give her a ticket, as she had given me lozenges? I at once returned 
 them to her. A flash of light crossed my mind. I questioned myself 
 whether it was right to give tickets for half-said lessons, or take lozen- 
 ges from the girls. Did the girls give me presents, in lieu of good les- 
 sons, to get the reward? If so, they had gained their point. Evi- 
 dently, the idle girl thought to buy, not earn her reward. I was sorely 
 puzzled in the week following as to what was right. I had nothing 
 but my own unenlightened conscience to direct me. I spoke to no 
 one, asked counsel of no one. My heavenly Father, or Christ my 
 elder Brother, at that time, I knew nothing of; so I could not go to 
 them for counsel, as I did not know the way. They had never occu- 
 pied my thoughts. In fact, I was in total ignorance of who and what 
 they were to me. Next Sunday, all were ready with their gifts. I 
 would not accept of any, however, till after the lessons were recited ; 
 and not one good lesson was recited that day. I refused to give 
 rewards, though they seemed angry and murmured discontentedly. 
 I took my resolution. When school was dismissed, I went to the super- 
 intendent and told him I could not teach. 
 "Oh, yes, you can; you do first-rate."
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME. 27 
 
 "No, I do not; I am not fit to teach." 
 
 He asked me why I said so. And I laid the whole case be- 
 fore him ; told him what I had felt, and what I had done. He said 
 that older teachers than I had done the same thing, and never to 
 mind; I must not be so over nice. Had I known Moses, or his writ- 
 ings, I might have told Mr. A.: "Thus saith the divinely inspired 
 Moses, in Exodus xxiii. 8: 'Thou shalt take no gift: for the gift bHnd- 
 eth the eyes of the wise, and perverteth the words of the righteous.' " 
 I was neither wise nor righteous, but my conduct did not satisfy myself; 
 and, to prevent the repetition of what displeased me in my own con- 
 duct, I could never be induced to go back to that Sunday-school. So 
 ended my first attempt at Sunday-school teaching. 
 
 The first ten or twelve years of my life were spent • in my dear, old, 
 native town of Paisley; where I was taught, in that short space of 
 time, to love dancing, balls, concerts, theaters, fairs, horse-racing, nov- 
 el-reading and card-playing. All these were fashionable, and my fam- 
 ily patronized what was fashionable. My aesthetic sensibility was being 
 cultured by the stage trappings. The race course was a lively scene, 
 and I enjoyed it. Novel-reading charmed me, and every one of Scott's 
 heroines I admired and tried to imitate; but, this being hard to do, I 
 satisfied myself with adopting their names; so, at one time, I was 
 Ellen Douglas, at another Helen McGregor, etc. 
 
 Our family removed to Glasgow, where our circle of acquaintances 
 was enlarged and gaieties increased. Glasgow is the chief city of Scot- 
 land; it stands on both sides of the river Clyde, and handsome stone- 
 bridges span the river. The beauty of the public and private build- 
 ings is unsurpassed. 
 
 At the last grand party I attended in Scotland, I wore my first silk 
 dress. On some national occasion, a grand soiree of unusual magni- 
 ficence was given at the Assembly Hall. The elite of the city were 
 there; I was taken with my mother and her clique. My dress pleased 
 me much; but as soon as I entered the gorgeously decorated hall, 
 with its magnificent chandeliers lit up, and with vases of every size 
 and of rare beauty filled with most beautiful flowers, I became obli- 
 vious to myself and my dress, in my intense admiration of all around. 
 
 Girls, as a rule, are called vain if they admire anything they wear, 
 or their faces, or their forms; but I think it is their innate love of the 
 beautiful that gives them the desire to be well dressed. My mother 
 had taught me that I was ugly and T believed her, so I had no cause 
 for vanity on that score, but I did admire myself when I was hand-
 
 28 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 somely dressed. A new minister was going to preach at a Presbyterian 
 cliurch near by, and I went not so much to hear him as to show others 
 my dress I thought so beautiful. I took the front seat in the gallery, 
 spread out my glossy dress on the crimson velvet cushion, took off one 
 white kid glove, placed it carefully in shape on the crimson-covered 
 Bible shelf before me, and all this to be looked at and admired. Then 
 I looked round and admired all the pretty bonnets and dresses I could 
 see. I had no higher motive for being in that house. 
 
 The minister, in gown and bands, mounted the pulpit stair with 
 slow and solemn steps. After psalms were sung and prayers were of- 
 fered, the minister took for his text the sixth and seventh verses of the 
 thirteenth chapter of Luke: "A certain man had a fig tree planted in 
 his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. 
 Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard. Behold, these three 
 years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none : cut it down, 
 why cumbereth it the ground?" He said that children, till they were 
 five years old, were not responsible beings; but, after that, every five 
 years of this life they were cumberers of the ground, yea, every year 
 after the first five they were liable to be cut down as cumberers of the^ 
 ground. The dainty white glove was crushed up and put in my pocket; 
 my dress was forgotten. My undivided attention was given to the 
 preacher and what he said. I had spent more than five years of re- 
 sponsibility. I felt that I was a cumberer of the ground and liable to 
 be cut down. What was I to do? What could I do? The preacher 
 answered not these questions. How I was to escape the cutting down 
 I could not learn, and I was in trouble, I was deeply concerned but 
 woefully ignorant as to what I should do. I went again to hear the 
 same minister, but I learned nothing more. I was in total darkness. 
 
 I became acquainted with a Miss H , who had been a Methodist, 
 
 but was now an English Baptist. She was the first acquaintance I ever 
 had who was decidedly religious. She was double my age, and I won- 
 dered why she took a fancy to me; but the fancy or friendship was 
 mutual. She was an orphan, and dependent on her own exertions for 
 a living. She was highly respected by her friends. She induced me 
 to rise early and take a walk every morning to the Green. These 
 walks, along the shady banks of the Clyde, or a seat by the fountain 
 or some shady nook, where we could enjoy the glory of the fresh 
 morning, were very pleasant. She would read or talk, and I loved 
 to hear her do both. One morning we were on our way to the Green
 
 MV CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 29 
 
 when we saw some unfortunate women who were using profane lan- 
 guage. I shuddered and exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh! the wretches! They ought all to be tied together and cast 
 into the Clyde." I did not think of their language as being sinful, but 
 
 only as offensive to polite ears. Miss H looked at me and asked, 
 
 in a kind voice : 
 
 "What makes us to diifer from them, my dear?" 
 
 I felt indignant at the question, but did not answer. Again she 
 asked : 
 
 "What is it makes us better than these poor creatures?" 
 
 I answered, curtly, "I don't know." 
 
 She said that grace made us to differ; grace kept us better than 
 those poor unfortunates. Grace! I mentally exclaimed. I do not 
 know what it is. I never heard of it; at least, I have never noted 
 the word if I have heard it before. I was sorely puzzled to know what 
 
 grace was, but I could not ask Miss H . So we walked on to the 
 
 Green and took our seat by the fountain in silence. She took out a 
 book that was new and strangely interesting. It was not a novel, yet 
 it was very novel. It was a dream dreamed by a poor man in a prison 
 cell. The dreamer was no other than John Bunyan, and his dream 
 the Pilgrims Progress. I did not understand the design of the book, 
 but it kept me spellbound till I had heard all of his dream read. As 
 I had admired Scott's heroines for the various beauties of their charac- 
 ters, so did I now admire Miss H ; and she neither read novels, nor 
 
 attended balls or theaters, but there was a new beauty (to me) about 
 her that I could not define. I had a great desire to be like her, but 
 then I must give up that which was very dear to me — all worldly amuse- 
 ments — and, as they had never done me harm, but had given me great 
 pleasure, I could not, would not, give them up. I loved them too 
 well. The reason why Miss H did not indulge in, or have pleas- 
 ure in such things was, I thought, because she was too old. She was 
 twenty-six or eight years of age. I did not appreciate high and holy 
 motives for ignoring the follies of the world. She had a pocket Bible 
 out of which she would read little bits, and all this reading was new 
 to me. I saved up money enough to buy me a Bible of my own, and 
 began to read it as I would a new novel; and no novel disclosed such 
 wonders as did this wonderful book. Peter being sent by his Master 
 to bring money from out of a fish's mouth; Christ turning water to 
 wine, and feeding thousands with a few loaves and fishes; poor little 
 Rhoda being so frightened at hearing Peter's voice at the door, think-
 
 30 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ing it was his ghost, pleased me wonderfully. I saw, every time I read 
 the Bible, new beauties; but I had to read by stealth, as I was afraid 
 
 to be seen reading it, and I was ashamed to tell Miss H . I thought 
 
 she might laugh at my ignorance, so I kept all to myself. Miss H 
 
 had a truly missionary spirit. On Sunday mornings she would tread 
 the lanes and back slums of the city, carrying to the poor inhab- 
 itants the bread of life, in tracts and in conversation. She often 
 wished that she could carry bread to the body as well as to the minds 
 of the poor. I was her constant companion on these excursions. 
 Such scenes of misery as we sometimes witnessed were awful to me. 
 One dark den of misery and filth we entered on a bright, sunshiny 
 Sunday morning, but the brightness of the sun's rays could not pene- 
 trate the dismal gloom of that dwelling. We clambered up a broken 
 stairway, every moment expecting to fall through. We reached a gar- 
 ret by cautiously groping our way. Miss H knocked at the door 
 
 and a feeble voice said : 
 
 " Come in! " and we went in. We could not see at first, the place 
 was so dark. The skylight was begrimed with dirt, and the broken 
 panes stuffed with foul rags. On the middle of the floor lay an 
 old woman on a bundle of rags, with hardly any covering on her, 
 and no furniture of any kind in the room. We stood while we 
 
 stayed. Miss H asked this aged woman about her soul, her 
 
 family and her circumstances. The old creature began to cnrse and 
 swear, saying her family had all left her to starve and die; she 
 had nothing to eat; no money to buy anything. She said there was 
 no hope for her here or hereafter; she was going to h — 1; she 
 
 wanted no religion, no rant; she had served the d 1 all her days, 
 
 and she was going right to him; she wished us to leave her and let her 
 alone ; she would soon be dead. I was horrified at her blasphemies. 
 
 Miss H took some comfortable things to this old sinner shortly 
 
 after this, but she was dead and in a pauper's grave, and another fam- 
 ily occupied the room, who did not know anything about the old wo- 
 man or her family. The scene in the garret made a sad impression on 
 my mind. 
 
 We visited another house, whose exterior was similar to the one we 
 had left, but oh! how different the interior! Two aged maiden sisters 
 occupied a room. Though the furniture was scant, it was scrupulously 
 clean. The floor, the bench, the backless chair, and the old deal 
 table were as white as sand and water could make them. The walls 
 were whitewashed, without a cobweb in the corners; the broken panes
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME. 3I 
 
 were replaced very neatly, by a newspaper pasted over the openings. 
 The garments worn by these two women were meagre in the extreme, 
 but well patched and clean. The little they had was well taken care 
 of. The elder sister was a confirmed invalid; the younger one went 
 out to do day's work, and so tried to keep both. They were cheerful 
 and happy. I wondered at this. The secret of the Lord was hidden 
 in them, and gave them joy and peace. They were glad to see me 
 with their friend Miss H . They talked on matters of eternal im- 
 port, of which I kn^w nothing. I concluded, however, that the sis- 
 ters were pious. I asked one of them, in a whisper when I was leav- 
 ing, if I might come and see them again. A bright, cheerful, "Yes, 
 hinny," was the answer. I wondered how these poor women could 
 thank God for what they had not, viz. : comforts. I noted the great 
 difference between the old woman who died and these two. I won- 
 dered if grace made the difference. What is grace? was my mental 
 cry. A week after my first visit to these poor women I started 
 to visit the same humble tenement, but the houses were so much 
 alike I could not tell one from another, and I had some difficulty in 
 finding it. I did not know the name of the women, and when I went 
 into a wrong house I asked the people if they could tell me where two 
 old maiden sisters, who were very pious, lived. 
 
 "Very pious?" was repeated, with a laugh; "well, that's good." 
 
 I got away from there as quickly as I could. I left out "pious" at 
 the next house, and asked for the sisters. 
 
 "Go home and find out the name of the sisters, then we may be 
 able to tell you where they live." 
 
 Nothing daunted, I hunted them up; but I was tired, for I carried a 
 good-sized bundle. I had a cheerful welcome from the sisters. The 
 one was sick in bed, the other sitting by her. They had no fire, though 
 the day was cold. I sat some time ere I could tell them what I came 
 for. At last I began to cry and said I hoped they would not be angry 
 with me for what I had done. They, much concerned, asked what 
 bad I done. I told them I had brought them a bundle of old clothes 
 and things. 
 
 "They are all in the bundle ; and here is a pound (five dollars) in this 
 little bag that I begged for you." 
 
 An exclamation of "Thank God!" with clasped hands and up- 
 turned eyes, came from both sisters at once. Then, with tearful eyes, 
 they turned to me and said: 
 
 "God has heard our prayers, and sent you to our relief. He feeds
 
 32 THE STORV OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 the young ravens when they cry." Then they sent up a burst of grati- 
 tude to their heavenly Father, then to me. I told them that God did 
 not send me, I had just come, and nobody knew anything about it. I 
 began to feel afraid that they would not like it. Ella asked me if I 
 would stay with Nannie a few minutes, till she would run and buy 
 some coals to make a fire for her. While she was gone, I opened the 
 bundle and put the various articles on the bed. I saw I was giving 
 pleasure, and I gained courage. I had a package of sugar, one of tea, 
 one of barley, and a pot of jam. While I was displaying the contents 
 of the bundle to the sick woman, she was asking God to send blessings 
 down upon my young head, and lead me to Himself. I was well 
 pleased with what I had done, because it gave pleasure. That morn- 
 ing they had neither meat, money, nor coal; nor did they know from 
 whence anything would or could be obtained. Ella had come home 
 from a fruitless endeavor to get a few shillings from a lady for^ whom 
 she had done some work; but it was not convenient for the rich woman 
 to give to the poor, half-starved creature the little that she worked very 
 hard for. 
 
 "It will be more convenient for me to pay you Monday; call then." 
 
 Poor Ella did not like to tell the haughty dame that her sister might 
 be dead ere Monday, if she could not procure fire and food for her ere 
 that time. The rent of their room was due on Monday, and if they 
 could not pay, their little all would be taken from them. When I went 
 in, poor Nannie was trying to strengthen her sister's faith, by telling 
 her that God hears the raven's cry. While the sick one was telling me 
 what they had been talking about, she said: 
 
 "And to think a young girl, that we never saw but once, was God's 
 messenger to us to bring money, meat, coals and clothes. Oh ! he is 
 a prayer-hearing and a prayer-answering God, and who can doubt his 
 goodness!" 
 
 I listened to this language with profound awe; it was new to me. I 
 thought, if they were thankful for so little, what ought I to feel? But 
 I did not know; I was poor and blind. Nannie asked me: 
 
 "Do you wonder that we say God sent you, when you know how 
 we were when you came?" 
 
 I said: "Last Sunday, when I was here, I thought I would try and 
 get a little money and a few things for you from some of our acquaint- 
 ances, for they have plenty; but I began to think that I had taken too 
 great liberty with you, so I deserve no thanks, and when the money is 
 all spent, I shall try to get more for you."
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 33- 
 
 Before I had the power to do more for these good women, Nannie 
 had doffed her rags, and donned her royal robes. She had gone to the 
 home where she would suffer no more, or be cold, or sick — whefe she 
 was happy evermore. ^Vhere was the other old woman who had died 
 in the garret? We could almost say, "The one had been taken, and 
 the other left." 
 
 "Tread softly, bow the head, in reverent silence bow; 
 No passing bell doth toll, yet an immortal soul 
 
 Is passing now. 
 Stranger, however great, with lowly reverence bow; 
 There's One in that poor shed, One by that paltry bed, 
 Greater than thou." 
 
 I was still a stranger to God and his Christ. I thought myself very 
 pious. I read my Bible, to try to discover what grace was. I had not 
 felt the exceeding sinfulness of sin, though I had felt that I was a cumberer 
 of the ground. I was quite pleased with the work that I had done for the 
 
 sisters; I hoped to find more such work to do. Miss H was pleased 
 
 with my outward conduct, as well as myself. Indeed, I thought I was 
 a model girl. I knew my danger. At this time, I read, in Paul's letter 
 to the Ephesians, second and fourth verses: "For by grace are ye saved 
 through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God. Not of 
 works lest any man should boast." Here was the ax laid to the root 
 of my good works. My trust and pleasure in them were all gone. I 
 was troubled. What could I do? What must I do? Evidently, 
 by grace and faith I was to be saved, and I had neither. They 
 were God's gifts. Would he give them to me? I was greatly 
 trouWed and sorely puzzled; but I searched the Scriptures, for in them 
 I thought to find the way to happiness. I was very unhappy. I had 
 no counselor, no friend to whom I could tell what I felt, or what I 
 wanted; and what could a poor, ignorant girl do, but search for the 
 treasure that was thus far hidden flom her. In Colossians iii. 2, I 
 read: "Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth." 
 liut my affections were all on earth — earthly. And here was a com- 
 mand that I knew not how to obey. Again I read: "Lay up for your- 
 seJves treasure in heaven. For where your treasure is, there will your 
 heart be also." Again I read: "Whosoever shall confess me before 
 men, him shall I also confess before my Father, which is in heaven." 
 "I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the 
 daughter against her mother." "And a man's foes are they of his own 
 household." " He th.ii lovcih f;ithcT or mother more than me, is not 
 3
 
 34 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 worthy of me; and he that taketh not his cross, and foUoweth not aftei 
 me, is not worthy of me." Again "the Son of Man is come to seek 
 and to save the lost." I was beginning to feel, after reading the differ- 
 ent passages of Holy Writ, that I was, with all my self-sufficient ideas 
 of piety, not safe. But what must I do ? often burst from my sad 
 heart, and as often sent me to the Bible, where I was told to "Knock, 
 and it shall be opened to you." Here was something for me to do; 
 but, then, all I could do was of no avail. I had thought that I was 
 doing good, and was good; but I felt that I had not the gifts of grace 
 and faith, and I did not know what to do to deserve the gifts or earn 
 them. 1 had thanked God that I was better than others. The more 
 I read, the more I felt self-condemned. All my self-righteousness left 
 me; I was brought to feel that I was a sinner in the sight of God, and 
 I asked God to be merciful to me as such. I was helpless, hopeless; 
 I was afraid of God; I was very miserable. I would cry out in the 
 night, "God be merciful to me, a sinner." I cried with my whole 
 heart to the Lord to save me, but He did not seem to hear or attend 
 to my cry. My spirit was overwhelmed within me. Tears were my 
 food, I could not eat or sleep. Oh! the misery, of .those days! I prayed 
 and wept, and read the Bible. My soul's salvation was now my only 
 concern. I was willing to give up all my worldly pleasures. Theaters, 
 balls, dancing parties, all and everything I prized most highly, I was 
 willing to give up, if God would accept the sacrifice. I read in God's 
 word, "Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all he hath, he can 
 not be my disciple. He that loves father or mother more than he 
 loves me, is not worthy of me." Shall I have to give up my mother, 
 I exclaimed, my heart's idol? "Children, obey your parents in the 
 Lord, for that is right," was another injunction, and gladly would I 
 have obeyed my mother in the Lord. The Lord, however, was not in 
 all her thoughts. The world was her idol, and she worshiped at its 
 shrine. I had never dared to di^bey my mother in anything, and now 
 I am to obey her only in the Lord. As often as I could, I stole away 
 to read my Bible, but this I could not do with impunity. I was jeered 
 at, and taunted with my pretence to be religious. I was only a young 
 hypocrite; I was no better than other girls, and why should I pretend? 
 I had a great many petty persecutions, that I tried to endure. I was 
 told that I was neglecting everything for the sake of reading the Bible, 
 and I must quit that nonsense. I said, I was told to search the Scrip- 
 tures, and I asked my mother to read them with me, and she would 
 become better and happier. She threatened to turn me out of the
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME. . 35 
 
 house, if I dared to talk to her in that fashion. She said she would 
 cure me of all that nonsense and folly soon; such folly was not to be 
 tolerated. I heard her one day deliberately enter into an engagement 
 with an old roue, who was rich and old enough to be my grandfather, to 
 give me to him to wife, if he would allow her to keep me at home till I 
 had done going to school. Some.worldly benefit was to accrue to the 
 family through this bargain. My heart rebelled and revolted. I was 
 sickened at the horrid thought that my mother could plot against me 
 so, but I resolved never to marry the bad old man. I could not obey 
 mother in this, let the consequences be what they would. 
 
 A near relative of my father's had an only daughter about to be 
 married. I was invited to spend a few weeks with the family, who 
 were wealthy, and the wedding was to be a grand affair, I was barely 
 permitted to make the visit. My mother, having married so soon after 
 my father's death, gave offense to his family, and ever after there was 
 a wide breach between the families, which was never closed. The 
 grand preparations for the wedding and the wedding itself, made me, 
 for a time, forget my great anxieties about my soul's eternal interests. 
 The grand event was over, the bride went on a tour to some distant 
 place, and quiet was somewhat restored. Then a great temptation as- 
 sailed me. My relatives said: 
 
 "Eliza, now we have no child, we have given Maggie away. Will 
 you come to us and be the child of our adoption? You shall take 
 Maggie's place. You shall have everything money can procure. You 
 shall have plenty of fine dresses, go to the theater, opera and parties, 
 just as Maggie did, and we will love you, and take good care of you." 
 
 My heart yearned for love, and I felt like saying, "Yes, I will come if 
 my mother will allow me, and then she will not traffic me away to that 
 hateful, wicked, old man." While I was longing for some one to love 
 mc, and everything was looking fair and promising for my friends to do 
 so, a passage of Scripture crossed my mind like a flash of light: "What 
 Avill it profit you if you gain the whole world and lose your own soul?" 
 I trembled at the words, as they rushed across my memory. "\Miat 
 must I do?" I asked myself. I postponed my answer till I could con- 
 sult my mother. I went home and consulted my Bible, and read: "As 
 a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." 
 I cried to the Lord to have pity upon me, for my mother had told me 
 
 that she had given me to Mr. H , and I was to marry him when I 
 
 was older. I burst out with the words, "Never, while I live, shall J 
 marry that hateful, hated, wicked, old wretch." I begged of my mother
 
 36 THE ai OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 not to think of such a thing, for I would rather die than nitiriy him. 
 She said: 
 
 "Oh, when you are older you will think differently." 
 "Never! never! I hate him! I am afraid of him! I can not, will 
 not have him, were I ever so old!" She said: 
 
 "We shall see if you dare to disobey me. Does your pretended re- 
 ligion teach disobedience to parents?" 
 
 "No," I said, "we are to obey our parents in the Lord." 
 This was for me a bold speech. My mother said she wished to have 
 no discussion with me: I must either consent to obey her implicitly or 
 leave her house forever. I had come to the junction of two roads in 
 my life's journey. The one was very broad, full of flowers, pleasant 
 companions and worldly pleasures, and led down to endless darkness ; 
 the other, narrow, thorny and difficult to climb — but it led to a fairer 
 world beyond. Which road should I take? I did not hesitate, for did 
 I not read: "If ye love father or mother more than me, ye are not 
 worthy of me." I was in sore trouble to give up my mother; but she 
 said I must go, and, with a breaking heart, I hid my Bible under my 
 cloak and went forth into the dark world alone. I knew not where to 
 go. I now had no home, unless to go to my rich relatives, whose 
 house and hearts were open to receive me, with plenty of the pleasures 
 of life for the poor little houseless one. But the word of truth met me 
 here again: "What will it profit you if you gain the whole world and 
 lose your own soul?" My heart was sorely troubled. My precious 
 Bible gave me such a world of new ideas, and every word I read from 
 it had a literal meaning to me. John wrote in his gospel: "Let not 
 your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my 
 Father's house are many mansions: if it were not. so, I would have 
 told you. I go to prepare a place for you; * * * that where I am, 
 there ye may be also." My poor heart cried out, Is there one for me? 
 Where shall I go for a present shelter? Where find food and clothes? 
 ' ' Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall 
 drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life 
 more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the 
 air: for they sow not; * ^ * yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. 
 Are ye not much better than they?" "But seek ye first the kingdom 
 of God, and his righteousness ; and all these things shall be added unto 
 you. Take therefore no thought for the morrow." I went forth with 
 • a crushed heart seeking the kingdom of God, I had given up all, even
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 37 
 
 my much-loved mother, for the sake of my soul, and I felt that my 
 soul was not yet saved. ' 
 
 I went to Miss H . I told her I had to 'leave my mother, but 
 
 did not say she had turned me away from her. INIiss H took me 
 
 to her lodging-house. I told her that I had no money to pay for my 
 board, but I was willing to work for money to pay for it. She got me 
 some fancy work from the house in which she was employed. She 
 also had an old lady friend, who was a pious woman, who she said 
 would take care of me and I could live with her. Tears were my only 
 thanks for her kindness. She saw that I was not happy, but she never 
 questioned me. I got what work I could do, paid my board and read 
 my Bible constantly, to find the path in which I was to walk. I went 
 to different churches, to learn from the various preachers more than I 
 knew, but the precious word of God taught me more than all put to- 
 gether. Sometimes, while walking on the street, a feeling of utter 
 desolation would come over me. I would rush into a close, cover 
 my face with my hands, and cry to God to have pity upon me and not 
 to cast me away from Him, for I had nobody else to talk to. I found 
 my way into a Scotch Baptist Church one Sunday. They partook of 
 the Lord's Supper, had fellowship, exhortation and prayers, and sang 
 hymns. The service was different here from any I had ever seen. 
 My mother utterly despised the Baptists, and I was taught to dislike 
 them. Their mode of baptism, or "ducking one another," was con- 
 sidered very indelicate. 
 
 I went back to this church again; for I liked to hear them read so 
 much of the Bible as they did. One Sunday a young lady rose up in 
 church and spoke, and told what she felt about religion, and repeated 
 a creed, or what she believed. She said a great deal that I did not 
 understand. I was perfectly amazed at the proceeding — how she could 
 remember and repeat so much. When she sat down a gentleman rose 
 and said : 
 
 "Bro. M and myself have waited upon Miss McL , and we 
 
 have found her well qualified to be a member of the church, and we 
 recommend her to the church for baptism." 
 
 Was this what was meant by "Whosoever confesseth me before men, 
 him shall I confess before my Father and his angels?" As Miss 
 
 McL passed me on her way down stairs to the vestry room, to 
 
 ]jrepare for the immersion, and several lady friends with her, she looked 
 radiantly happy. Tears that would come, and a choking sob from 
 my poor heart, caused me to cover my face with my hands, and to
 
 38 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ask mentally if she were to be taken and I left. I was in a perfect 
 agony of grief; I sobbed aloud in church — I could not help it. Oh! 
 if an invitation had been offered to me to come to Christ at that time 
 I should gladly have accepted it; but no such invitation was .given. 
 After the baptism the right hand of fellowship was given, and the 
 Lord's Supper partaken of. Several portions of Scripture were read. 
 One was: "Come unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, 
 and. I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me- 
 for I am meek and lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 
 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." I was willing to learn, 
 but 1 did not know how to take the yoke. Another read of the Phil- 
 ippian jailer's cry: "What shall I do to be saved?" Oh! I said, this 
 has been my cry for weeks. "Believe and be baptized. Believe on 
 the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." These and similar 
 passages were read; but I seemed to comprehend nothing that was 
 said, for as soon as a portion of Scripture was read, telling one what 
 he ought to do, the speaker would add: "But of yourselves you can 
 do nothing." I thought it strange that the Bible told me to do some- 
 thing, and these exhorters said it was impossible to do it. Why did 
 God tell us to do that which was impossible. I was mystified by what 
 I heard. A hymn was sung, the words of which took a firm hold of 
 my mind. They were very beautiful. They ran thus: 
 
 "Baptized into your Savior's death, 
 
 Your souls to sin must die; 
 With Christ your Lord you live anew, 
 
 With Christ ascend on high. 
 There by I lis Fatlier's side He sits, 
 
 Enthroned divinely fair — 
 Yet 07vns Himself your Bro^/ier still, 
 
 And your Forerunner there. 
 Rise from these earthly trifles ! Rise 
 
 On wings of faith and love ; 
 Above your choicest treasure lies, 
 
 And be your hearts above." 
 
 The words all seemed familiar to me, yet I had not heard the hymn 
 sung before. "He owns Himself your Brother still! " Who was He 
 that owned Himself my Brother? Who was my Forerunner? Who 
 sat enthroned beside His Father? Christ evidently was meant; but 
 would He ovvn Himself my Brother? Would He love me? — me, the 
 forlorn orphan? These questions filled my thoughts all the way from 
 church. As soon as I got my Bible in hand I forgot to eat my dinner.
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME. 39 
 
 I was hunting up all the passages I could remember that would give 
 me light upon the subject nearest to my heart. I went off to afternoon 
 service, still anxious to learn more of Him of whom I had heard that 
 morning. My spirit was broken, and my heart contrite and sorrowful. 
 The day was somewhat cloudy; my thoughts were more so. I went 
 along one of the most retired streets, my sad eyes bent on the ground, 
 all the time repeating: "He owns Himself your Brother." 
 
 "Oh! I wish I knew whether this Brother has anything to do with 
 my soul's salvation. Teach me and lead me, O my Father! " 
 
 All at once I was startled by a sudden light shining on part of the 
 street, while the rest remained in a dim shadow, as it had been all 
 along. Now, what I saw, whether it was an optical illusion or a 
 reality, I will not say; but to me, at the time, it was no illusion, but a 
 blessed reality — a reality that flooded my soul with light, as it did the 
 pavement on which it shone. It filled my heart with hope and joy. 
 I realized for the first time who the Brother was — my Brother. The 
 picture was painted on my heart as with sunbeams, and is as fresh and 
 beautiful to-day as it was on that memorable Sunday. Shall I describe 
 the picture as I saw it, or thought I saw it? I suddenly raised my 
 eyes from the bright spot on the pavement, and, looking upward, I 
 saw a bank of pure white, fleecy clouds, and in bold relief was hung 
 a human figure, nailed to a cross, the lower part concealed by the 
 clouds. The sublime beauty of that face surpassed everything I had 
 ever seen or imagined; the large, love-lit eyes, full of pity, penetrated 
 my very soul, and, as I have said, inspired me with hope and joy and 
 peace. Feelings so new and so strangely happy were to me almost as 
 wonderful as the picture that I saw. I was not superstitious, so I did 
 not think that I saw anything that was not a real presence. I stood 
 looking for some time, then left the spot joyous and happy-hearted. 
 I had found Him at last, who died that I might live. I turned to look 
 again, but the brightness had left the pavement; yet it shone in ray 
 heart. I felt as if I could never be unhappy or downcast again — I 
 had found Christ and He was my Brother. I now wondered at my 
 own ignorance. Many things appeared perfectly plain to me that for- 
 merly had puzzled me. Everything seemed changed; even the houses 
 and streets had a more cheerful look. I went up the chapel steps 
 with lighter feet than ever before. I tried to pay attention to what was 
 said, but I could think of nothing but Christ, God's Son, hanging on 
 the cross for me, and calling Himself my Brother. 1 could hardly 
 contain myself.
 
 40 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Miss H took me to a Methodist prayer-meeting that night. I 
 
 heard the people tell their experiences, their feelings, and I know not 
 what — such rambling talk I had never heard, as it was the first meet- 
 ing of the kind I had ever been at. Oh, I thought, if these people 
 only knew Christ their Savior, and had Him for a Brother, they would 
 not talk such nonsense. I longed to tell of Christ, but I was dumb. 
 
 I parted with Miss H very reluctantly that night; I wanted to tell 
 
 her of my new-found happiness, but I had no language to express it. 
 
 She asked me what ailed me. I said, "Oh, nothing," and left her. 
 I read that night.in my Bible: "Whosoever shall do the will of God, 
 the same is my brother, and my sister, and my mother." Well, here 
 was I with Christ for my Savior, my Brother, and if I would do God's 
 will, I should be His sister. The Bible was very plain, but the good 
 Baptist preachers mystified me. Christ said: "If you will do God's 
 will," etc.; the preachers said you can not do it. I said I shall try to 
 do God's will. I went on searching the Scriptures — I had no other 
 guide or teacher. But the Bible to me was its own interpreter, and 
 He, the Author, made it plain. I read: "Believe, and be baptized." 
 This I had read before, but did not understand it. Now I believed 
 that Christ died to save me, and I was baptized when I was a baby. 
 What next? I kept on searching for the treasures which lay on every 
 page of the precious Bible. Believe and be baptized seemed to cling 
 to my thoughts. I began to doubt whether my baby sprinkling was 
 baptism. Repentance and belief were to come before baptism. I 
 wondered if dipping or ducking was the baptism of the Bible. I had 
 
 seen Miss McL immersed, but she had not been sprinkled when 
 
 a baby, as I had been. Was that the true baptism which my mother 
 despised, and taught me to dislike as a thing too indelicate to practice? 
 This mode was repugnant to my flesh; but I was willing to be dipped 
 in fire if this was a condition to sisterhood in Christ. 
 
 The English Baptists partook of the Lord's Supper once a month, 
 without exhortation from the Elders. The Scotch Baptists had the 
 Lord's Supper every first day of the week. These were nearer to the 
 Bible teaching in their church practice than the other, so I decided to 
 join the Scotch Baptist Church. 
 
 Up to this time I had not opened my lips to utter one word about 
 my dark days; my beclouded thoughts; my crushing misery; the des- 
 pairing cries I sent up to God to save my soul; the persecutions I had 
 endured; the temptations that were in my way ; the sacrifices which I 
 had made. God alone knew everything; it was to Him I told every-
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 41 
 
 thing, and He alone heard my despairing cries, and Christ alone came 
 to my relief. In my present happiness I had forgotten all my misery. 
 
 I asked Miss H if she knew any one in the Scotch Baptist Church; 
 
 I wished to be baptized, and join the Church. She said she knew a 
 lady in that church, who knew the elders, and she would tell them my 
 wish. Forthwith two venerables called upon me, but I did not know 
 why they came, or for what purpose. I stood in great awe of them, 
 and this awe deepened when they began to question me. They asked 
 me why I had applied for baptism. I said the Bible told me to l.)elieve 
 and be baptized, and I believed and wished to obey the Bible com- 
 mands. At this confession the two good men exchanged looks, and 
 then they asked me to give them a Christian experience. I said : 
 
 "I do not know what that is." 
 
 "Not know what that is! " exclaimed they both. 
 
 "No," I said; "I have never so much as heard of a Christian ex- 
 perience. I have heard the Methodists give experiences, but I do not 
 know what they mean." 
 
 "You must not have been well taught," said they. 
 
 "No; I have had no teacher, and no book to learn from but the 
 Bible." 
 
 "Do you know our creed?" asked they. 
 
 "No; for I do not know any one in your church, and nothing of 
 religion but what I learned in the Bible." 
 
 "Why do you wish to join our church, then?" 
 
 "Because I think your church comes nearer to what the Bible teaches 
 than any other." 
 
 The good men smiled and said I had much to learn before they 
 could recommend me to the church to be baptized. I asked : 
 
 "What have I to learn? Oh! tell me, and I shall learn anything 
 you say. I do want to be baptized." 
 
 "You ought not to be in such haste," they said. 
 
 I said: "The Philippian jailer was baptized as soon as he believed 
 and repented — in the same night — and I wish to do just what the Bible 
 tells me." 
 
 I was told to think more about it, and get more instruction, before 
 I thought of being baptized. 
 
 "I have no one to instruct me," I said; "and I have no books but 
 my Bible. I burned all my foolish books, as the Bible tells me some 
 men did who believed and rc])ented." (Acts xix. 19.) "The Bible 
 has told me all I know, and 1 wish to obey it."
 
 42 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The good men said they would pray for me that God would pour 
 out his Spirit upon me, that I would learn more, and they would come 
 and see me again. They left me deluged in tears and full of grief, 
 without telling me what to learn or what I lacked. I went to my 
 Guide-Book and read: "All things whatsoever ye ask in my name, be- 
 lieving, ye shall receive." I asked God to tell me what to do to be 
 baptized. I could find nothing new that I was to do. To be baptized 
 seemed to be the first thing to be done after believing and repenting, 
 that I might be saved. What obstacle was in my way I knew not. 
 The elders said it was want of knowledge, but they did not say what 
 kind. Oh! how I prayed to God for the right sort of knowledge. 
 Two other good brethren called upon me to question me, with the 
 same result; only these threw a thicker vail over my mind, and left it 
 more bewildered than before. I was asked if I were one of the elect. 
 
 " I do not know what elect means, and I can not tell whether I am 
 one," I said. "I know that I am. very ignorant of all you have asked 
 me, but I do know that I am a sinner, that Christ died to save me, and 
 I wish to obey Him by being baptized; and He has told me in the 
 Bible that where my treasure is there will my heart be also. Now, 
 Jesus Christ is my treasure, and He is in Heaven and my heart is there 
 also. Oh! I can not say all I feel and think about Jesus; but I feel 
 that I could die for Him. Will you let me be baptized? I love all 
 who love Christ, and I wish to be among them." 
 
 "But," said they, "you have no Christian experience." 
 
 "Oh, no; for I do not know what it is." 
 
 With this utterance I burst into tears, and sobbed as if my heart 
 would break. I thought if I were to die, what would become of me ! 
 Would God reject me because I did not know what elect was, or 
 whether I was one of the elect, and could not be baptized in conse- 
 quence of my ignorance. "Believe, and be baptized, and thou shalt 
 be saved," was a positive injunction by an inspired writer, but these 
 good, uninspired men said you must do more ere you can obey your 
 Lord;, you must give a Christian experience before you are a Christian. 
 
 "Tell me what to do," I said. 
 
 "You can do nothing of your own self," they said; and that was 
 true : I was helpless and bewildered. I thought the Bible told me ex- 
 actly what to do, but these elders of the Baptist Church told me first 
 to do more than the Bible told me to do, and then cruelly told me I 
 could not do it, and I could not be baptized until I did do it. What 
 inconsistency ! They prayed for me and I cried all the time. They
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 43 
 
 gave me no encouragement to hope that I should be received into the 
 church, and nothing else did I care for. For weeks and months I went 
 about sorrowing; 1 could not eat or sleep; I was sick and weary with 
 crying; I was full of sorrow. But I prayed to my Father: "Teach 
 me thy way, O Lord: lead me in a plain path;" "Thou art the helper 
 of the fatherless." The Psalms of David were very sweet to me: I 
 could pray to God, and express my trouble, and tell my wants while 
 reading them. ' ' Why art thou cast down, O my soul ? and why art 
 thou disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him 
 for the help of his countenance." Hope in God! Yes, I will hope 
 in God, for man gives me no hope — I shall wait. I did not have to 
 wait long; for help came and hope, and I revived. An elder, a very 
 old gentleman, came to see me; but the first thing I said to him was: 
 
 "I have not learned the Christian experience yet; nor can I tell 
 whether I am one of the elect. I have been looking in the Bible for 
 these things, and I can not find them, or yet what they mean." 
 
 "What did you find in the Bible?" he asked. 
 
 I told him I had found that I was a sinner, and that Christ died 
 for sinners, and I believed that He was my Savior,and I wished to obey 
 Him and be baptized. "But they will not baptize me till I can tell 
 them what they ask me, and I do not know how. I wish to do what 
 Christ tells me, for He does not contradict Himself as they do — first, 
 to tell you 'to do,' then say you 'can not do' what they tell you to do, 
 and then they say 'you must do it ere you can obey your Lord.' I do 
 not know what to do, I am so unhappy and confused, and I have no 
 one to teach me or to tell me what to do." The dear old man put his 
 hand upon my head and said: 
 
 "You are one of Christ's lambs;" and, with a trembling voice, he 
 continued: "Can any man forbid water that you should not be bap- 
 tized?" 
 
 "Oh, Mr. M e, may I be baptized?" I asked. 
 
 "You are one of Christ's lambs, and the Church is commanded to 
 feed them with the sincere milk of the word, that they may grow 
 thereby. It would be cruel, as well as dangerous, to send you to the 
 world to learn what it is the duty and the privilege of the Church to 
 teach you, when you have no one else to teach you. You must be 
 brought into the Church and fed and made to grow. I shall certainly 
 recommend you to the church for baptism." 
 
 Oh! how that old saint understood me and entered into my feelings, 
 and encouraged me to tell him all I had read, and all I felt and believed.
 
 44 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I told him I had prayed to God to help me to know what to say, and 
 I thought God had sent him to me, and he understood me better than 
 the others did. 
 
 ,'And you," I said, "do not ask questions which I do not under- 
 stand and can not answer." 
 
 The dear old man prayed God to bless me and guide me through 
 life, and left me happier than I had been for many a day. With a 
 lightened heart I went to church the next Sunday, took a back seat, 
 humbly awaiting the decision of the church, whether they would receive 
 the trembling one into their fold. My heart beat violently when Mr. 
 
 M rose to introduce my name. He spoke eloquently on the 
 
 duties of the Church. "It had lambs of the Good Shepherd to feed 
 as well as sheep, and Christ had said: 'Suffer the children to come 
 unto me, and forbid them not.' Here is a child, comparatively speak- 
 ing, a lamb of Christ seeking admittance to the fold, in His own ap- 
 pointed way, and who has kept her out? Who forbids water that she 
 may not be baptized? I do not, and I sincerely recommend her to 
 the church." 
 
 The vote was taken — I was at last received. I could hardly sit still 
 for joy. My heart was filled with love for the dear old man who had 
 so kindly undertaken to speak for me, and prepare the way for my en- 
 trance into Christ's fold. Christ is the door of entrance, but the under- 
 shepherds stood before the open door long and obstructed the way. 
 Now the obstacles were removed. ^I was asked to rise, and my 
 friends were next called upon to prepare me for the rite. I rose 
 and came out to the aisle alone. Not one friend, not one acquaintance 
 had I in that congregation; but I was happy, though not one in that 
 crowd of human beings rose to take me to the vestry to don the bap- 
 tismal robes. I was the observed of all observers. Christ by my side 
 alone gave me courage to stand there and be gazed at. At last the 
 woman who cleaned the chapel came and asked me if I had no one 
 with me. I said I had no one, I knew no one, and I did not know 
 where to go. 
 
 "Come with me," said the woman, and she took me down stairs to 
 the vestry-room, and helped me to doff my own and don the baptismal 
 robe. And no robe, however elegant, or rich, that I ever put on, de- 
 lighted me so much as this one did. No indelicacy, no impropriety 
 was thought of; no dislike to the "ducking," as I had irreverently 
 called the sacred ordinance. I now considered it a high and holy 
 privilege to be immersed in the name of Christ. It was grace that
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD S HOME. 43 
 
 made all the difference between my former and my present self. Mem- 
 ory carries me back, after the lapse of many years, and I think I see 
 myself coming up the stair without any attendant, walking into the 
 church before all eyes and up into the baptistry, utterly oblivious of 
 everything on earth. My whole being was filled with the idea that 
 I was Christ's sister and He my Brother. I was owning Him before 
 men, and He would own me before His Father. I clasped my hands 
 together, looked up and gave myself to Him — it was all I had. I was 
 rich — I possessed Him. Though, to the people of this church, I was 
 an unknown orphan, I had given up all for Him, and I was happy in 
 the possession. Whom have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none 
 on earth I love as well. After I was baptized and went down stairs to 
 dress, the woman asked why I laughed and cried and talked so. I 
 told her I was so happy, and asked her if every one who was baptized 
 was not just as happy as I was, when they had found Christ. 
 
 "I suppose they are," she said. 
 
 I could hardly get quieted before I went up stairs to receive the right 
 hand of fellowship and partake of the Lord's Supper for the first time. 
 I received many a warm shake of the hand, and a whispered ' ' God 
 bless you, dear." I felt that I had found many new relations here. I 
 was once more of a family — a happy, holy family — who would teach 
 me the way more perfecdy; and, if Jesus led, I was willing to pass 
 through flood and flame. 
 
 •'Onward, for the truths of God! Onward, for the right! 
 Firmly let the field be trod. In life's coming fight 
 Heaven's own hand will lead thee on; guard thee till thy work is done." 
 
 When the bread was broken and handed to me, as emblematic of 
 Christ's broken body; when the wine was handed to me, as an emblem 
 of His shed blood, I partook and felt that His works, His pains. His 
 tears, His bonds. His wounds. His blood, His cross and cruel death 
 were all needed to save me — and could I ever prove ungrateful to Him 
 or be ashamed of Him, who had done so much for me? His love for 
 me was stronger than death, mightier than the grave. He sought me, 
 bought me, and brought me to His table to partake of its royal cheer. 
 Love so amazing demands my whole life, and I dedicate it here to Thee ! 
 
 When I look back to the time in which I suffered such hopeless mis- 
 ery and discouragement at the hands of ignorant but well-meaning 
 men, who kept me back from obeying the Lord because I did not un- 
 derstand some of their church technicalities, I am astonished. How
 
 46 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 they can expect or demand a Christian experience from one who has 
 not put on Christ, is a mystery. The young who join that church are 
 children of the members, and have become indoctrinated and know 
 the creed. The Bible alone was my creed, and I was happy in Christ, 
 and I wished to bring my sister to him. I met Barbara accidentally on 
 the street one day, with one of my nice dresses on. I told her how 
 happy I was, and wished her to repent, believe in Christ, and be bap- 
 tized, and she would be far happier. She cried and said she did not 
 know how she could do what I told her. I told her if she would meet 
 me sometimes I would tell her, and teach her out of my Bible. This 
 she would not consent to. I thought if my mother knew Christ and 
 loved Him she- would love me, too. All the weeks I had been away 
 from her did not seem to soften her feelings toward me. I had not 
 seen her, nor did she wish to see me or know anything about me. 
 
 " How can a mother's tender care cease toward the child she bare? 
 Yet, she may forgetful be, still will I remember thee." 
 
 I was longing, yearning, homesick to see my mother. I was living 
 in a totally different sphere, breathing a different atmosphere from that 
 she lived in. Outwardly, all human ties seemed to be severed between 
 us. A very few knew the circumstances in which I was placed. One 
 old lady who knew, and was interested in me, asked me one day if I 
 wished to go back to the flesh-pots of Egypt ? did I wish to turn to the 
 world again? just because I had expressed a wish to see my mother. 
 
 "Oh no, how could that be? But," I said, "I wish mother was 
 pious and good and loved Christ." 
 
 She said : ' ' You can do your mother no good, and she may do you 
 harm. I advise you not to see your mother at all. You must take 
 up your cross daily and follow Christ. Have you counted the cost of 
 what you have undertaken?" 
 
 I said I did not know, but I thought there was no harm in wishing 
 to see my mother. If it were wrong to see her, I could not help lov- 
 ing her and praying for her. I saw on the street one day a cloak like 
 one my mother wore, and, as I had never seen one like it, I followed 
 the lady to see if I knew her. I came quite near enough to see that 
 it was my mother. I walked as near to her as I could, not to let her 
 see me. I feared that she would not speak to me, and I dared not go 
 to her and speak first. I felt pleased to be near her. She turned into 
 the street that she lived in. I watched her till she was out of sight. 
 I turned and left the spot with a choking sensation in my throat.
 
 MY CHILDHOOD AND CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 47 
 
 "O Father! are we to be thus separated forever?" I felt very sad. 
 
 On leaving my mother's home I took no clothes with me, only what 
 I wore at the time. Now I had managed to get another change of 
 raiment, and I was well off, I thought, when I could earn money to 
 buy my own clothes. I was caught in a heavy rain one day — I was 
 drenched — and while I was changing my wet for my dry clothing, I 
 sat down and thought of all the nice clothing I had left behind. I 
 fancied my sister in my beautiful French gray silk, and many others; 
 and all the pretty things I owned — she would have them all. I looked 
 at my poor garments and felt thankful that I had a change. I felt 
 that my heavenly Brother did not despise me on account of my dress. 
 I wondered if this was counting the cost. 
 
 My golden hours were few and fleet. I was called upon to leave 
 my native land, without a friend to ask counsel of, or to cheer me in 
 my decision. My pathway was strewn with new difficulties. I knew 
 not what to do. Every trial I had to encounter seemed harder than 
 the last; but my Bible said: "As thy day is, so shall thy strength be." 
 
 A Mr. and Mrs. H , members of the church, had taken quite an 
 
 interest in me. They had purchased land in the far-off country of 
 New South Wales, and Avere about to leave Scotland for what was to 
 be their distant home. They asked me to go with them. 
 
 "Yes, I shall go," I said. 
 
 I had no one to consult. When I said yes so readily, I certainly had 
 no thought for the morrow, what I should eat or put on. I just al- 
 lowed God to direct my way, and I was willing to follow. I had but 
 a short time to prepare, and I did not know how to go about it. I had 
 not seen my father's relations since I refused to go and live with them. 
 They had said they would take no further notice of me, and I never 
 troubled them with my presence. I felt it due to them to tell them 
 that I was going to leave Scotland for a foreign land. They asked 
 some questions. Why I was going? With whom was I going? The 
 why 1 was going was because my relations did not like me. I had be- 
 come religious, and I was turned out of my mother's house, and I had 
 no home among my own people, nor anyone to care for me, and I 
 was going to trust God and leave my country, and seek a home among 
 strangers; perhaps they would be kind to me. They wore amazed 
 at what they called my temerity on account of my youth. I told them 
 I should be well protected; I had no fear. They made me a handsome 
 present in money, to furnish me with a suitable outfit, if I would go. 
 I had no fear now of giving offence to my Baptist friends by going to
 
 48 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 see my mother, and I intended to go; and, if my mother would not 
 receive me, I should bid her farewell. 
 
 I saw my mother; she asked me what I wanted. I told her that I 
 wanted her forgiveness. If ever I had given her offense, I did not 
 wish to do so. I knew I had disobeyed her, but I could not in that 
 one instance obey her. I hoped she would forgive me. Her brow 
 clouded; but before the storm burst, I said: 
 
 "Mother, forgive me, and I shall leave you forever, if you dislike 
 me. I have promised to go to New South Wales with Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 H and their family. We shall go soon, and all I now ask from 
 
 you is forgiveness." 
 
 "I do not believe in the religion that teaches children to disobey 
 their parents," she said. 
 
 ''Dear mother, my religion does not teach me to disobey you, if you 
 tell me to do what is right. You wished me to do what was not right, 
 and I must obey God rather than anybody else." 
 
 She became impatient with me. I told her how much I loved her, 
 how I always had loved her; but she had always thrown my warm, 
 gushing love to the winds. I had tried to please her all my days, had 
 always obeyed her, right or wrong, until I began to know right from 
 wrong, and now my religion is all my fault. And now, that I was 
 going to a foreign land, I hoped she would not let me go without her 
 forgiveness. I went near her to kiss her. She thrust me from her, 
 and shut me out of her heart as if I had no right there. 
 
 "Mother, dearest mother, I am going far, far away, do be recon- 
 ciled to me before I leave you. It may be forever; I may be drowned 
 at sea, and you will, perhaps, be sorry then that you did not love me, 
 and forgive me for trying to serve God, who has done so much for me. 
 When I am dead, perhaps you will realize how much I loved you, and 
 how much I wanted your love." 
 
 "You are talking nonsense," was her reply. 
 
 Great God, be ever near me to protect me; hear my weeping 
 prayer ! Dear Father, let me come near to thee, for the gulf is wide 
 between me and my kindred, whom I loved so well.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 
 
 All my preparations were made, trunks packed, and I was ready for 
 the long voyage to the antipodes, with a sad heart, but a brave spirit. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Holmes and I had a public leave taking with the church, 
 and I had the most affectionate farewell spoken to me by all. Letters of 
 introduction and commendation were kindly given to me, and as we 
 three stood up to take the parting hand, tears and kisses and blessings 
 were showered upon me. We took a steamer to Greenock, where the 
 ship lay ready to sail in a few hours. My mother accompanied me to 
 Greenock. She did not speak to me all the way. We went to a 
 hotel, to wait for the signal of departure. As my mother did not speak 
 to me, my heart was too full to give utterance to my feelings before so 
 many people on the boat; but as soon as we entered a room and the 
 door was closed, I said: 
 
 "O mother, my heart will break if you do not bless me, and forgive 
 me before I go. If you do not love me, at least kiss me once, mother." 
 
 I knelt at her feet. I threw my arms around her neck, and kissed 
 her cheek. She pushed me from her with an angry gesture, and said : 
 
 "That was a Judas' kiss." 
 
 Mv heart sank within me, and I wept sore, and could not be com- 
 forted. My idolized mother had no place in her affections for me, no 
 pity for me. I was thrown out of what ought to have been a sheltering 
 place, upon the perilous billows of an untried life. The wide world 
 lay before me, and I went out to encounter its dangers alone. Father 
 of the fatherless, protect me now. I shall try not to feel alone, for 
 thou hast said, *'When father and mother forsake thee, I will take thee 
 up." And again, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." It was 
 well for me that those precious promises crossed my thoughts at that 
 time, when the tidal wave of sorrow swept over my defenseless head. 
 
 "One more word, mother; and then, farewell. Forgive me for ask- 
 ing you for what you can not give, and now, farewell;" and with a 
 bowed spirit, I went on board the good ship Portland. O, who 
 can imagine the agony of that moment! Farewell, mother, I have 
 4 (49)
 
 CO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 been a sad and lonely child all through my childhood's years; now I 
 am in my teens, and were it not for the gracious promises of my heav- 
 enly friend never to leave or forsake me, I should be utterly prostrated 
 by my misery and grief. 
 
 "Jesus, I my cross have taken, 
 
 All to leave and follow thee ; 
 I am poor, despised, forsaken. 
 
 Thou henceforth my all shall be. 
 Perish every fond ambition. 
 
 All I've sought, or hoped, or known ; 
 Yet how rich is my condition, 
 
 God and heaven are still my own. 
 Go then, earthly fame and treasure, 
 
 Come disaster, scorn and pain; 
 In thy service pain is pleasure, 
 
 With thy favor loss is gain. 
 Storms may howl and clouds may gather, 
 
 All will work for good to me." 
 
 Our ship was towed out to the tail of the bank. As we left the quay, 
 I saw my mother standing conspicuous among the crowd; her beauti- 
 ful fawn-colored suit glistened in the sun, and she stood amid the dark 
 forms of the other spectators like a pillar of hght. I think I see her 
 now. Such a leave-taking on board the ship; friends parting with 
 friends, doubting whether they should ever meet again, weeping, ring- 
 ing of hands, and some, in the excess of grief, tearing their hair. My 
 tears were held back as long as I could see that pillar of light on shore. 
 I stood looking over the taffrail until the light figure became a speck, 
 and then vanished. A long, last look, and again, farewell, %iy mother. 
 The cords that bound our noble ship to shore had been loosened, and 
 she was about to try her strength on the bounding billows of the 
 ocean. She had rudder and compass to guide her over the pathless 
 deep, and experienced officers and men to man her. I felt that the 
 cords that bound me to family and home were loosened, and I, like 
 the ship, was about to try my strength in unknown regions. Strength! 
 did I say? I had none, but the Lord could make perfect his strength 
 in my weakness, and I prayed that he would. His word was my 
 rudder and compass, to guide me through the storms of life. Night 
 gathered her ebon mantle over ship and shore. The steamer had 
 taken all the people ashore, who were not bound on the long voyage. 
 But there I stood looking over the taffrail, where I stood for hours, 
 straining my eyes in peering through the darkness, if, perchance, I
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND, 5 I 
 
 might catch one more glimpse of that dear form ; but all was shrouded 
 in night. 
 
 I retired early, but I could not avoid contrasting the noisy mirth of 
 some of our passengers, with their equally noisy grief, when goodbyes 
 were being spoken a few hours before. At early dawn we were gently 
 gliding down the Firth with a fair wind, and we passed the Cumbrays, 
 the Isles of Bute and Arran, and the Aisla Crag, whose irregular rocks, 
 over which the sea breaks with such fury, had nearly proved fatal to the 
 steamer/7>/^<z/on our voyage to the Emerald Isle. But now, as we passed, 
 they were flooded with sunshine and dressed in holiday attire. Sea- 
 weed and shells festooned the projecting cliffs, and studded the beach 
 below. On went our ship with easy grace. She was large, and con- 
 veniently fitted up for passengers, of whom she carried a goodly number. 
 A human dwelling, with all the appurtenances of a home, constructed 
 to float on the surface of the water, is a great contrivance, and one of 
 the wonders of the ocean. The sweet singer of Israel says, "Those 
 who go down to the sea in ships see the wonders of the deep," and 
 our ship was a great wonder to me. It was fitted up to carry three 
 hundred persons, and many whole families were amongst them. How 
 all these were to live together in one house for four months was a puz- 
 zle. The weather was delightful, and everybody was busy, passengers 
 and crew, putting things in ship-shape. 
 
 As I had nothing to do, I took a seat on the top of a pile of spars, 
 that were firmly lashed to the starboard side of the ship. They formed 
 steps up to the top of the bulwark. Up these I climbed and took a seat, 
 which I occupied every day that I was able to be on deck all through 
 our long passage; and looking over the ship's side, I learned many a 
 lesson. I was greatly interested in studying the creatures living in the 
 sea. A great number of Medusae were shining through the water. 
 These are star-shaped, of various sizes and beautiful forms, with tenta- 
 cles streaming downward, as the animals floated in the water. 
 
 I had heard of flying fishes; for I had cousins who had sailed the 
 seas, and had seen many wonderful things, but their tales seemed to 
 me almost too wonderful for belief. Our second day out a shoal of 
 these very "fishes that flew" sailed across our deck, and several 
 dropped on deck. We had a good opportunity to examine them, which 
 we did with great interest. They have excessively long pectoral fins, 
 which serve them as wingsilnd sustain them in the air for a few mo- 
 ments. They swim in shoals, and are pursued by legions of voracious 
 fishes, bonita, shajks, and other kinds. They spring into the air tp
 
 5* THE Si' • ■ 3F AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 escape one danger; another, not less imminent, awaits them — for a 
 host of sea birds are on the lookout for them, and their wings, which 
 only serve them as a parachute, soon dry and they drop into the sea 
 again. 
 
 At two bells we all went to dinner. As the day was fine and the 
 ship floating steadily, we had soup. I took one or two spoonfuls when 
 
 I had to leave the table. I became deathly sick. Mrs. H said I 
 
 was sea-sick. Be that as it may — I was sea-water-sick, certainly. Our 
 head cook had several very inexperienced mates. One of these knoAv- 
 nothings was asked to fill a boiler with water to make soup, and he 
 did so, but it was sea-water with which he did it. He was economical; 
 he saved the ship's salt at the expense of several being laid up sick. 
 He lost his position through his carelessness. I was very sea-sick for 
 several days. 
 
 We had fair winds and fine weather till we reached the Bay of Biscay, 
 when our ship began to tumble about at a fearful rate, to the great con- 
 sternation of all those who had never been on board of a ship before. 
 I felt that I was quite an experienced sailor. I not only had no fear, 
 but I apprehended no danger. -I had been on board of the Fingal in the 
 great gale, and was not a little pleased with my experience. One 
 night one of our stud sail-booms cracked and split, and the sail flapped 
 and made a great noise. Such a cry arose from the timid ones as 
 brought the captain and some of the officers down to see what was the 
 matter, when, with one voice, they cried: 
 
 "Oh, captain! are we going down?" 
 
 "Down where?" asked he. 
 
 "To the bottom! " said the frightened ones. 
 
 "Oh, no!" said the good-natured captain; "not yet. But I would 
 advise you not to bring me down to tell you that you are not going 
 down." 
 
 We tumbled through the bay without any serious damage; but all 
 those who had not their "sea legs" on, as the sailors express it, had 
 many a tumble on the deck; and it was ludicrous ,in the extreme to see 
 a man of great dignity walking with stately steps and slow, all at once 
 take to running hither and thither, trying to catch at something, missing 
 it just as he was laying hold of it; falling away, as if trying to catch 
 something in the opposite direction, missing it, reeling and staggering 
 like a drunken man. • 
 
 The stormy Petrel, or "Mother Carey's Chickens," as the sailors 
 call these interesting little birds, flew around and followed our ship in
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 53 
 
 great numbers. They sweep along the trough of the sea as if in a 
 sheltered valley, and then mount again on the rising billow. Of all 
 the palmipedes, these remain most constantly at a distance from land. 
 They are nocturnal birds, and when they are seen in the daytime, seek- 
 ing food or shelter near a ship, or in the shrouds, they are forced so to 
 do by tempestuous weather; and on this account they are called storm 
 birds. The name Petrel (little Peter) is given to them, it is said, from 
 their walking on the water by the help of their wings, which reminds 
 us of the Apostle Peter walking on the Sea of Tiberias. Their wings 
 are sharp and slender, and their pectoral muscles strong, which enables 
 them to keep on the wing a long time. Gulls we saw in great num- 
 bers. They are about the size of a duck, with long wings and webbed 
 feet. We saw great shoals of porpoises tumbling about, and leaping 
 out of the water a considerable height, though they were big and 
 clumsy looking. Their name, which means hog-fish, has been given 
 them on account of the quantity of fat found beneath the skin. They 
 are never more than four or five feet long. One of these sea-hogs was 
 caught, the flesh prepared, and I ate some. It was very coarse-grained, 
 had a fishy taste, but not unpleasant. Its skeleton was very much like 
 a land animal's. 
 
 We passed the Madeiras, that lovely group of islands celebrated for 
 their wines. They belong to the Portuguese, and consist of Port 
 Santo, Madeira, and three uninhabited islands called Deserta. We 
 passed so close to Madeira that we saw houses and people. We were 
 delighted, for we had not seen land for some time. I have heard peo- 
 ple say that "a sea voyage is so monotonous." I did not find it so. 
 After we lost sight of land, everything that I saw — above and below 
 and round about — was new, strange and wonderful. I thought I had 
 some knowledge of the sea because I had been out in a great gale in 
 the Firth of Clyde, and had crossed the Irish Sea; but, when I had 
 bidden my native land good-night, and she had vanished from my sight 
 in the distance; when I was out on the boundless deep, where the 
 water was dark, nearly to blackness; nothing but the mighty moving 
 element, through which our ship was cleaving her way, around me; 
 while over me was the equally beautiful vault of heaven spanning the 
 ocean on every side, I felt lost in the vastness of the scene and ac- 
 knowledged to myself that I was a poor, little, ignorant creature — too 
 insignificant for God to notice. But then I thought of the sparrows 
 and the ravens, and took comfort. I was of more value than many 
 sparrows. It was delightful on a calm, still day to sit on the spars and
 
 54 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 peer over the side of the ship and down into the depths of the sea, 
 and feel myself rocked upon the great waves and floating over the 
 dark, blue sea. What a contrast to the howling storm when the winds 
 are drawn up in battle array, and one can not distinguish the thunder 
 of the clouds from the roar of the winds, or the sullen plunging of the 
 angry waves on the rocky coast! I shuddered as I thought of the 
 JFingal. I hoped we would not encounter the elements in their anger 
 on our voyage. 
 
 The Bible represents the winds as a vehicle of Divine power in judg- 
 ment and in blessing. God rides on the wings of the wind. The 
 wind on the Sea of Galilee is associated with the presence of our 
 Savior, who said to it: " Peace, be still! " The winds are God's mes- 
 sengers to carry the blessings of Christianity around the world. 
 
 When the main, the maintop, the fore, the foretop, the mizzen and 
 mizzentop sails, with studding sails, are all set and filled with the elas- 
 tic wind, how swiftly does the ship move on from country to country 
 without exhausting its power. And a ship in full sail is a thing of 
 beauty ! She seems imbued with life as she bounds along on her wat- 
 ery way. I can appreciate David's exclamation of admiration : "There 
 go the ships! " 
 
 We had a little rough weather after we passed Madeira. I thought 
 we were going to be turned upside down once or twice, and it was so 
 amusing to see everything jumping about. When we sat down to eat, 
 a plate of soup, without ceremony, would throw itself into one's lap; 
 and, while another was laughing at the frolic the plate of soup was 
 having, a decanter of water would tumble over on him ; another laughs, 
 and the plates go dancing over to his side. Soup, water, meat, vege- 
 tables, dishes, plates, knives, forks, and spoons would have a regular 
 waltzing frolic; and all who sat around had to rise and run, and invol- 
 untarily join in the dance. 
 
 I was not long out at sea till I made a very pleasant discovery. A mid- 
 shipman, young, handsome, and the son of a rich shipowner of Green- 
 ock, was on board the Portland. His father wished to' make one of 
 his sons a sailor; so Tom Arbuckle was learning his business, and he 
 was my cousin — a cousin I had never seen or known. As I have said, 
 when my father died his family and my mother had a breach that was 
 never healed. I was very young when I lost my father; consequently 
 I had heard but little of my father's relatives. My uncle, Ar- 
 buckle, I never knew, nor any of the family. Only by accident I 
 met my cousin Tom, and we became very friendly. When he wa^
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 55 
 
 off duty, and had time to spare, and I was perched on my usual seat 
 on the spars, Tom was at my side. He asked me one day if I were 
 not lonesome, as he always saw me by myself on the same seat. 
 
 "Oh, no!" I said; "I can not be lonesome with so much beauty 
 in the sea, and so much variety in the ship." 
 
 "There is beauty in the deep. 
 The wave is bluer than the sky; 
 And, though the light shines bright on high. 
 How softly do the sea gems glow, 
 That sparkle in the depths below. 
 There is beauty in the deep." 
 
 The sea gems sparkled as brightly as did the sky gems, and were as 
 interesting to me. The sea sparks were phosphorescent lights. One 
 of the ship officers, an old tar, and a great friend of Tom's, also be- 
 came a friend of mine, and between the two my time passed very 
 pleasantly and profitably. One or the other of these two were with 
 me when I was on my perch, and from them I learned all sorts of nau- 
 tical lore. They were interesting companions. I was thirsting for 
 knowledge, and they had stores of which I knew nothing, and they 
 were pleased to communicate to me of their abundance. 
 
 Several young ladies took seats one day on the spars beside me. Mr. 
 
 G , the old tar, was near, and we were all chatting away right 
 
 merrily. Mr. G lifted a great monkey jacket in his hand, and, 
 
 before I could think what it was for, he threw it over my head and shoul- 
 ders, causing me to bend forward. I was angry as a Turk. What did 
 the old man mean? I asked, mentally; but, before I could give vent 
 to my indignation, it gave place to gleeful gratitude. When the jacket 
 was lifted off my head, I saw the young ladies on the deck shaking 
 themselves. They were drenched to the skin, and the deck was cov- 
 ered with water. I felt inclined to laugh at the ludicrous scene. Mr. 
 
 G had seen a great crested wave rolling toward the ship, and knew 
 
 it would sweep over the decks, and we were right in its way, and, as 
 he could only protect one from a ducking, I was that thankless one. 
 After this I was called "Neptune's favorite." I accepted the distinc- 
 tion. I had dubbed the old man Neptune; he seemed to know so 
 much of the sea. 
 
 I had heard that a sunset and sunrise at sea were glorious sights. I 
 was not impressed with the glory the first time I saw either. The sun, 
 on his westward course, looked like a great fiery globe, dropping into 
 a great bowl of water to quench his fire. I looked for the beauty of
 
 56 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 fhe rising sun, and was only impressed with the magnitude and vast- 
 ness of his majesty's reahii of waste waters, over which he traveled 
 daily. iJut the scene, to be beautiful, must have the accessories of 
 meandering brooks and fertile plains, with the accompaniment of lux- 
 uriant foliage and sky-piercing mountains crowned with snow; all 
 tiiese, reflecting the various tints of the sun's rays, make a sunrise or 
 sunset on land far more beautiful than at sea. 
 
 We had a sick lady in the hospital (we had such an institution on 
 board, for we had a large family). I went to see her one morning be- 
 fore I went on deck. The hatchway of the lazaret had been left open 
 by the careless steward's mate, and the place was so dark that I could 
 not see; so I fell prone across the open hole, doubled up, and then 
 fell several feet down among barrels and boxes, and was bruised all 
 over on the edges of the iron-hooped barrels. I scrambled up and out, 
 I know not how, but when I saw the lady I went to see, I could not 
 speak to her. I had no bones broken, but the doctor advised me 
 to go to the hospital. I was very ill from my bruises. The hos- 
 pital was very comfortably fitted up for the sick, we had profes- 
 sional nurses, and the doctor was a skilled physician. He said, 
 when I had been in bed a few days, that I was dangerously ill; 
 I must be put into a hot bath and bled. He also said it was life or 
 death with me, or he would not use the lancet on silch a rough night; 
 the ship was rolling so heavily. I said I would hold the bowL into 
 which the blood was to flow. A lance cut a vein in my arm for the 
 first time. The doctor was afraid he might cut an artery. I bled until I 
 grew blind. The nurse was at hand, took the bowl from me, and I fell 
 senseless on the floor. The doctor used restoratives, and I heard him 
 tell the nurse to feel my feet. She did so, and said in solemn tone, 
 they are getting cold. That was all I knew for twelve days. When I 
 became conscious, I asked where I was, and if it were morning. I 
 had no idea of the lapse of time. I asked the nurse why I was in bed 
 
 in the hospital. Mrs. H came to see me, and told me I was ill, 
 
 and how long I had lain there unconscious, no one expecting me to 
 live. I said I knew nothing about it. I thought I was well now' but 
 
 I could not walk after Mrs. H and the nurse had dressed me. I 
 
 fainted, and fell back on the bed. The doctor soon restored me, and 
 gave me something in a spoon. I asked what it was. He said, take 
 it you foolish girl, it is a little brandy. I pushed his hand away, but 
 he caught both my hands, and then made me swallow it, and then he 
 gave me a little rice and sugar in a spoon, and in an hour after a little
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 57 
 
 more rice and sugar, and so on, till I could stand and walk, to my 
 own and the doctor's astonishment. I felt well again, and asked the 
 doctor if I might not leave the hospital. 
 
 "You may be helped upon the deck to-morrow if the weather is fine." 
 I was on deck as soon as I could get up next morning, and stayed 
 as long as I had permission to do so. I went below and to bed light- 
 hearted, and slept. A litde before midnight I heard a cry: "Oh, will 
 no one go for the doctor, my child is dying!" I started out of bed 
 half awake, and said, "I will go!" I wrapped a mantle around me, 
 and went upon the main deck. Not knowing where the doctor was to 
 be found, I looked for Mr. Stalker, the officer of the watch, but no 
 where could I find him. I looked alow and aloft, but not a living 
 creature was to be seen. Nobody was looking after the ship; she 
 might take her own course, if she chose, and carry everybody with her. 
 I looked up to the moon, pale queen of night, who shone wondrously 
 bright, and the blue vault of heaven was studded with many stars. 
 The ship was in full dress, with a fair wind, and her white sails, filled 
 with favoring breezes, made her look like a huge bird, with wings wide 
 spread, soaring away over the trackless deep. A feeling of awe crept 
 over me; I felt as if I were alone on the mighty deep, under the wings 
 of that strange, huge bird, being carried I knew not whither. The 
 night was enchanting, but the doctor had to be found. I went near to 
 the man at the wheel, but did not speak for a minute, for he was look- 
 ing intendy at the mast-head. I wondered if he, too, felt as if under 
 the wings of the strange bird. The spell, if spell there was, must be 
 broken. I spoke, and asked where was the officer of the watch. He 
 could not tell. I did not know what to do. I found two sailors asleep 
 under a boat, who ought to have been walking the deck at that mid- 
 night hour, instead of lying asleep and leaving the ship to the care of 
 one man, with hundreds of human beings all fast asleep in his charge, 
 and he not able to leave his post for an instant, even were the ship on 
 fire. I knew where the captain's room was, and I knocked at his door 
 as loudly as I could. His dog began to bark, and soon roused all the 
 sleepers. I told the captain that the doctor was wanted to come to a 
 dying child, and that all the watch were asleep, and the ship was going 
 along by herself. The dog had roused them all by this time. The 
 doctor made his appearance, laughing at the speech I had made to the 
 captain, and the stir among the sleeping watchmen. The child got 
 better, and next morning the captain took his first officer to task about 
 his neglect. I know not how he exonorated himself, but the first oj>-
 
 58 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 portunity that Mr. Stalker liad, he stalked up to me, and took me to 
 task for arousing the captain from his sleep. I told him I did less 
 wrong by rousing the captain from his sleep to look after the ship, than 
 he did by going to sleep with the watch and neglecting the ship. He 
 was very angry with me, but I told him I would just do the same thing 
 again under the same circumstances, and he need not be angry with 
 me, for I had done what I thought to be my duty. 
 
 "Why did you not call me?" asked the irate Stalker. 
 
 I asked him if he were on board; if so, he was invisible. I could 
 not find him. He began to laugh, and left me. 
 
 I was once more able to be in my own cabin, and take my accus- 
 tomed seat on the spars, and view, with fresh admiration, the blue 
 above and the blue below. I have sailed in many ships since I sailed 
 in the Portland, forty years ago. Larger, grander, more magnificently 
 fitted up, but none more completely comfortable. The passengers' 
 cabins were all between decks, and the families were all on the best of 
 terms. Most of them were married men, who had land in the rich and 
 growing country, and were going out to occupy it, and work in their 
 different professions, and they were nearly all singularly prosperous. 
 Many of them afterward became distinguished as members of Parlia- 
 ment, and immensely wealthy. They were a highly respectable class 
 of passengers, and many friendships were formed on board, that ended 
 only with life. The discipline of the ship was perfect. Passengers 
 and crew were under the strictest rules, and everything worked well, 
 and went like clock-work. Our sailors were all sons of gentlemen. 
 Such a crew I have never sailed with since, nor are there many such. 
 They all seemed brothers of one family, each handsomer than the 
 other, and so good-natured. We had splendid weather, and it was a 
 pleasant sight to see our handsome tars on Saturday, washing their 
 ducks — that is, their fine white canvas suits^ahd making a general 
 preparation for Sunday. The ship's decks were nearly as white as 
 snow, and every coil of rope in its place. Every sign of work was put 
 away, such as sailmaking and mending, and splicing ropes, and mak- 
 ing basset. The ship went along with a fair wind, and needed but 
 little looking after. On Sunday morning the ship-bell tolled seven, and 
 passengers and crew assembled on deck under an awning, where seats 
 were placed athwart-ships, and the doctor behind the capstan, which 
 was covered with the Union Jack, and used as a reading-desk. 
 The Church of England services were then read by the doctor, 
 but the Psalms were sung by all, and what fine voices there were in
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAXD. 59 
 
 that crowd. The prayers were read, and after the services were over, 
 all passed the day as if they were on shore. Some groups were 
 reading or talking on Bible subjects, while others were reading 
 religious books. Our gentlemen sailors were dressed in their white 
 duck trousers and jackets, or garibaldies, and had jaunty litde caps on 
 their heads. Everything was spotlessly clean about them and the ship. 
 
 Mr. McK and family had their cabin opposite to ISIr. Holmes 
 
 and family. Mrs. McK had left Scotland for her health, but the 
 
 grim king had marked her for his own, and she sank daily after she 
 came on board, till she dropped into his relentless embrace. It is a 
 solemn thing to die at any time, or in any place, but I think to die at 
 
 sea is most solemn. Mrs. McK died in the midst of her family, 
 
 and everything that affection and kindness could do was done, to show 
 sympathy for the living, and respect for the dead. After the body was 
 dressed for burial, an officer of the ship prepared canvas, wrapped the 
 body in it, sewed it up, and then sewed a bag full of stones to the foot 
 of the shroud. This was done to sink the body, and save it from the 
 voracious jaws of sharks. The bell tolled, and the passengers were as- 
 sembled on the quarter deck in solemn silence. The body was lashed to 
 a plank, and covered with the Union Jack for a pall. The ship's officers 
 were the pall-bearers. They carried the corpse to the deck tenderly, 
 mournfully, and laid it on a rude bier, until the service for the dead was 
 read by the doctor. He paused when he came to "ashes to ashes." The 
 pall-bearers lifted the body, and rested it on the gangway. The doctor 
 omitted "ashes to ashes," and said, "we commit this body to the deep, 
 till the sea gives up its dead." The plank was lowered over the side 
 of the ship, a plunge, a slight gurgling sound, and the waters gathered 
 over the body. 
 
 "And there she lay in her coarse, cold shroud. 
 
 And strangers were 'round her, the coffinless; 
 Her family were tiiere among that crowd, 
 
 Their eyes did weep, and their lips did bless. 
 Not a whisper did ling-ir upon the air ; 
 
 O'er her body one moment her family bent; 
 But the plunging sound of the dead was there, 
 
 And the ocean is now her monument." 
 
 A more magnificent one than the hand of man ever fashioned, but 
 one by which no hand of affection can plant a flower. The bereaved 
 ones can not rest their thoughts on the hallowed spot where the ashes 
 of the loved one lies. Her sepulcher is large, but she is alone. "The
 
 6o THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 average depth of the ocean is ascertained to be five miles. If we sup- 
 pose now, which may not be far from the truth, that such a weight 
 would descend at the rate of one mile an hour, the body would be five 
 hours passing to its final place of rest. What a march to the grave 
 is this! Five hours alone, unattended, unthought of, pressing steadily 
 on away from all light, passing without a pause the limit where the last 
 ray of the sun becomes extinct, and where the last trace of life forever 
 fails. And what a tomb to come to at last; what silence ; what dark- 
 ness; what desolation; what eternal and motionless rest. At such a 
 depth it would seem that nothing, absolutely nothing, could transpire, 
 and a human body, seeking there its last home, must find one so en- 
 tirely its own, that probably for ages to come there will have been 
 nothing but its own intrusion to disturb the death-like repose." 
 
 One day I was looking over the ship's side from my usual perch, 
 when I saw a great shoal of what I thought were the most beautiful 
 fishes, swimming and gamboling a few feet below the surface of the 
 water. Cousin Tom told me they were dolphins. The dolphins, when 
 at play on a bright day, as I saw them, are so rapid in their move- 
 ments, so changing in their color as the sunbeams fall on them, that 
 they look like broken rainbows flying about. We can not help admir- 
 ing the beauty of their form, and the rapidity with which they swim. 
 They were held sacred by the Greeks in ancient times. The poetic 
 Greeks created for the dolphin an assemblage of virtues that the human 
 family is far from possessing. They placed its image in their temples, 
 impressed it on their coins and medals, and made it a symbol of the 
 God of the Sea. It is from eight to ten feet long, and is found in every 
 sea. It is bluish-black above, and white below. Its jaws are a*:jned 
 with teeth. These animals are the most carnivorous, and, in propor- 
 tion to their size, the most cruel of all the cetacea. They are the swift- 
 est swimmers of all the finny tribes. 
 
 "Sail ho!" was shouted from aloft one day. What excitement that 
 shout created on board our ship. A ship in sight was a new wonder; 
 it was the first ship we had seen since we left land. It was quite an 
 event to see, outside of our ship, something besides the denizens of the 
 deep. I was surprised to see the stranger pitch, and toss, and roll, 
 and plunge, in so quiet a sea. She would pitch her stern high in air, 
 and plunge her head deep into the water, so that you could see half 
 of the copper sheathing of her keel. Then her bows would rise high 
 in air like Neptune's locks, dripping with brine. Her decks were 
 filled with passengers. I suppose they, like ourselves, were brought
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 6l 
 
 to the deck by the cry of "Sail ho!" I was watching the stranger very 
 intently. We were not near enough to hear the captain's answer to our 
 captain's questions, through his huge speaking trumpet: 
 
 "From whence? whither bound? and what's your cargo?" 
 
 But we could guess she had a live cargo. I saw her give a sudden, 
 fearful plunge. I screamed out : 
 
 "Oh ! she has gone down ! " 
 
 Gur captain laufhed at my fright. I had hardly the words out of 
 my mouth till she righted again, and then rolled over on her side, ca- 
 reering in a most frolicsome way. The captain told me that our ship 
 presented the same appearance to them that theirs did to us. I could 
 not realize that our ship was behaving so badly, but I had become ac- 
 customed to the motion of it. I excused the captain for laughing at 
 me; I almost laughed at my own ignorance. 
 
 As we neared the tropics the days were longer and the nights shorter. 
 We had fair winds, but very light. We progressed but slowly, but we 
 were all as happy and as cheerful as so large a number of persons, living 
 in one house, could be. Our time did not hang heavy on our hands. My 
 Bible was my most valued companion; but cousin Tom and Neptune 
 were valuable auxiliaries. Our shipmaster — or, for politeness' sake, our 
 captain — was a gentleman, a good sailor, and a kind father to all his 
 numerous family on board the Portland. As we neared the equator 
 we had less wind and more heat. Some of our passengers were anx- 
 ious to know whether Neptune would visit our ship as she crossed the 
 line, and handle those roughly who had never crossed the line.* Nei> 
 tune the Second, who was on board, assured me that if his namesake 
 came on board, to handle the passengers roughly, I should be exemj)t. 
 
 Some of our masculines asked our good-natured captain if they 
 could see the line when passing it. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" said he, laughing. 
 
 This piece of nautical information sped round, and many believed 
 it. All such were to have the use of the captain's glass to look 
 through. The splendid telescope was in place; excitement ran high 
 as we neared the line. No one could see it but only those who were 
 privileged to look through the glass; and to them the line shone out 
 as clear as day. Oh! it was beautiful! What? The equator, the line 
 which divided North from South latitude? No; but the beautiful line 
 they saw was a hair that the fun-loving captain had stretched across 
 the lens of the instrument. Cousin Tom had prepared me for this; 
 
 •It is a common custom to duck such persons with buckets of sea-water.
 
 62 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and, as I was in the secret, I enjoyed the fun amazingly. The cap- 
 tain loved a little harmless fun, such as this; but he sternly forbade 
 old Neptune, the god of the sea, to enter his ship. His visits were 
 troublesome and disagreeable to those who for the first time crossed 
 the equator. Our ship was becalmed about one degree from the equa- 
 tor. The heat was intense. The sails went flapping about. The 
 ship rolled about with the ground swell. The sea was like molten 
 glass. Everybody was idle and listless. It Avas tqp) hot to sit or walk 
 on deck in the daytime. The sun was scorching, and not a breath of 
 air was stirring. Below it was stifling. Our water was not sweet. 
 Water being carried on a long voyage rots after a few weeks, and then 
 purifies itself. Our ship carried immense tanks of water, but none 
 too much, and none to waste or use in our ablutions. Salt water was 
 used for almost every purpose but cooking and drinking. The sailors 
 had nothing to do ; everything was trim. They kept throwing water 
 on the decks to cool them, and to keep the pitch from melting and the 
 seams from opening. The two weeks that we were becalmed on the 
 equator, or near by it, were idle, lazy and listless weeks. One thing 
 I noticed, but was too idle to speak of it : our shadows looked very 
 short. A slight breeze at last sprang up and we moved, but very 
 slowly. We were all thankful for the motion, though it was so slight. 
 We breathed more freely. One day some one remarked to me : 
 
 "Why, you have no shadow!" 
 
 I looked round and round, but, sure enough, I had lost my shadow; 
 but I was not the only one. All on board the ship, and the ship itself, 
 had lost their shadows. The sun was in the zenith, and we were di- 
 recdy under him. The excitement when about to cross the equator 
 was nothing to compare to what now prevailed. Two or three persons 
 would stand in a row and look for their shadows, but no shadow, or 
 the shade of shadows, appeared. How we all enjoyed this new ex- 
 perience ! We had something new to talk about. The captain could 
 not take an observation till the sun would move from the zenith, or we 
 from . under it. When our shadows were next seen they fell to the 
 south of us instead of the north, as they had done. We were now in 
 South latitude. 
 
 We had a young lady on board who had not been on deck since we 
 sailed. She had been sick in the hospital. To her I made a daily 
 visit, to tell her what was going on in our little world, and to cheer her 
 up. The sun from a cloudless sky shone in his midday splendor, re- 
 flecting his brightness on the white and glistening decks, dazzling one's
 
 f-AREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 63 
 
 eyes to blindness; and, out of this glare, I plunged one day into the 
 darkness of the hospital. I could not see my way, but I knew it, and 
 on I walked till I came to the open hatchway of the lazaret, which I 
 could not see; and, being right in my pathway, down I went into a 
 deeper darkness. I became unconscious ere I reached the bottom of 
 the hold. When I opened my eyes I did not know where I was. I 
 closed them again but could not think where I was. When I became 
 fully conscious I was lying at the bottom of the hold, my head sup- 
 ported by one of the ship's officers. I moved and tried to rise, but 
 could not. I was helped to my feet and supported by the young man. 
 My head was in a maze; I felt like lying down again — I could not 
 stand alone. I saw a dim light in the distance, and figures of men. 
 The young man who supported me called out: "Make haste! " I was 
 utterly unable to stand, and I shut my eyes again. I could not make 
 out where I was. Everything was dark around me, only the dim light 
 in the distance, which was moving nearer to me, and then two men — 
 one with a great bowl in his hand, the other with a lamp. They put 
 the bowl to my mouth, and I was told to drink. My head fell away 
 from the bowl, but a hand was quickly at the back of my head : two 
 men held me up, firm and fast, while a third forced me to take a great 
 swallow of brandy, raw from a barrel. As soon as I swallowed the 
 brandy I recognized the men, and asked them where I was. They 
 told me that I was in the hold of the ship, that I had fallen down, and 
 they thought I was dead — I lay so long unconscious. They had placed 
 Jim to watch the open hatchway, m case of an accident, and he had 
 fallen asleep, but was suddenly awakened by my falling over him, 
 I could not yet take in the ludicrous situation, but they forced me to 
 take another swallow of brandy, and then I felt much better. I could 
 stand without support. The next thing was to get me out of the hold. 
 There were no steps or ladder; but they fastened a seat with ropes and 
 pulled me up into daylight and fresh air, and I felt almost well. 
 The doctor felt greatly concerned about me, but I had no broken 
 bones, not even a bruise. My senses were shaken out of me, and it 
 was long ere I could come to myself; but when I took the brandy, 
 that seemed to revive me. 
 
 I was once more on deck. The whole thing seemed a dream to me, 
 I was thankful to my kind, heavenly Father for His protecting care, 
 I had had two falls down into the hold, and two very narrow escapes 
 from death, through the carelessness of others; yet was I preserved, 
 I was the only one on board who had been roughly handled on cross-
 
 64 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ing the line, though I was the only one who was to be exempt. The 
 captain told me that my adventure in the hold was just as good as if 
 "Neptune" had come on board and ducked me. 
 
 "Land ho! " was shouted from the man on the lookout. This was 
 a new excitement. We were all on the lookout, but our inexperienced 
 eyes could not see as far as those of a sailor. We had to wait a nearer 
 approach to it ere we could be gratified. When I was a very little girl 
 I had an idea that the world was round like a bannock, and supported 
 on a pillar; but where the pillar rested gave me no concern. I was 
 taught that the earth was a globe, and was balanced in space by the 
 almighty power of God. This idea to me was wonderful at first; but 
 this wonder gave way to greater wonders, as I was wafted over the 
 wide waste of waters that everywhere surrounded me. 
 
 "Land ho!" again passed from one to another. Neptune and 
 cousin Tom were near me to show me and explain the wonders of the 
 beauteous land, that could only be seen in dark outline against the 
 eastern sky. We had not seen land since we passed the tall peak of 
 Teneriffe. The land was beginning to take shape; mountain-tops were 
 to be seen. I thought we were looking at land, but Neptune had 
 traversed these seas before, and told me what I saw was not land but 
 clouds, whicn would presently assume a beauty that would astonish 
 the beholder; and they did astonish me. The sight was the most won- 
 derful that I had ever seen. I saw these clouds, dark, dense and im- 
 penetrable, in some places charged with oceans of water. The stratum, 
 as it was stretched across the sky, looked like solid land, and over this 
 rose the cumulus, capped with snow, mountain on mountain piled up 
 high; then cirrus, with its curling, waving streamers, and the nimbus 
 crowned the whole. These four clouds were thrown together, spread 
 out, piled up in every variety of shape, so that when the sun was in a 
 certain position, a more glorious picture of cloud-land could not be im- 
 agined than was this. First we saw, or thought we saw, the solid land 
 with fertile plains, wide-spread and carpeted with gems of brightest 
 hue; then tall, dark forests, and wild beasts hunted by hunters in 
 gorgeous array, mounted on elephants, some on horses, some on foot 
 — all distinctly outlined. Then the snow-crowned mountains, ris- 
 ing one above another, cold and desolate-looking, though pure white 
 and dazzling. Then castles, palaces and thrones, all painted on the 
 heavens with colors the brilliancy of which is past description. The 
 grandeur of this cloud-picture has never been effaced from my memory. 
 I could not realize that this gorgeous picture was floating clouds, bal-
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLANT. 65 
 
 anced in space by an unseen hand. How these clouds, so dense, did 
 not break and fall in torrents of water, seeing they were formed of 
 this element, was a wonder to me. But then God has the power to 
 balance them, as He has the power to balance the earth, for neither has 
 foundations to rest upon. "God makes the clouds his chariots," and con- 
 trols them. I could only look and admire and wonder, but could not un- 
 derstand. Neptune had seen these clouds often, but had never seen them 
 so brilliantly colored before. Most of the spectators were disappointed 
 when they were told that they had been admiring cloud-land, and not 
 real land. Others were mortified to find the captain quiedy laughing at 
 their enthusiasm over the beautiful landscape. Those clotids could not 
 be surpassed in coloring by any landscape. I thoroughly enjoyed cloud- 
 land. 
 
 In these latitudes we saw great birds flying about, sitting on the 
 water, and rising and falling on the crested waves. They were Alba- 
 trosses. Neptune shot one one day, and, as we were idly moving 
 along, he and another officer lowered a boat and went out on the broad 
 bosom of the Atlantic, and soon they were in the distance, looking 
 like a speck on the water. I felt a litde afraid that the ship would 
 leave them. They picked up the huge floating bird and were soon 
 alongside; handed up the prize, and sprang up the ship's side, all in a 
 very short time. When I saw all safe on board in so short a time, I 
 felt sorry that I had not gone out in the boat with them when they 
 asked me, but it was now too late for regrets. I had great curiosity 
 to see this bird, and study it, and I had a fine opportunity. The Al- 
 batross biomedia has a very long, strong, hard, trenchant and com- 
 pressed beak, straight at the base and suddenly curved at the end. The 
 nostrils are tubular and placed in a furrow. The feet are short and 
 palmate, and there are three toes only on each foot ; nails short and 
 dull. The Albatrosses are the largest of the oceanic birds. Their 
 rapid and long-continued flight, notwithstanding their heavy, massive 
 form, has caused sailors t« call them "man-of-war" birds. They 
 are pure white, with black wings. Of all the birds, this one is seen 
 the farthest from land. They are mo.st graceful birds on the wing, or 
 floating on the water; but on deck they are the most awkward, clumsy, 
 waddling creatures imaginable — every step they take they fall down. 
 Several were caught in nets and kept alive for some time, and we were 
 greatly amused at their absurd attempts to fly. The Portuguese, who 
 first doubled the Cape of Good Hope, in describing the Albatross, the 
 Gull and Frigate birds, said: "The birds looked like geese, and brayed 
 5
 
 66 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 like donkeys, and did not know how to fly ; but spread out their wings 
 like sails and scudded before the wind." 
 
 We caught several Frigate birds. They inhabit none but intertropical 
 regions. Their flight is so powerful and rapid, and so far from land, 
 that they have shared the name of "man-of-war" birds with the Alba- 
 tross. Frigate birds are great enemies to the flying fish. Of course 
 these birds are web-footed and long-winged; as also the Boobies, which 
 are very stupid birds — hence their name. 
 
 "There she blows! " was a cry from the bows one day. We were 
 all on the alert. 
 
 "What is it?" ran along the ship. 
 
 "A whale! Look how she spouts the water!" 
 
 I looked and saw jets of water rise high in air, from an object not 
 yet visible to us. We soon both saw and heard the blowers. Sev- 
 eral of the hughest animals that live either on land or in the water rose 
 out of the water, and what enormous bodies they had! We got suffi- 
 ciently near to see that they were sperm whales. There seemed to be 
 quite a number of them at play. These long, big-headed blowers in- 
 habit from choice the equatorial regions. They are met with in bands 
 of females, led by two males, which are much larger than the females. 
 They feed on molluscs. The muzzle, which is of cubic form, is trun- 
 cated in front, with a single spiracle or breathing-hole. These animals 
 are about seventy feet long. The tail is about eight feet wide; their 
 heads are enormous and singularly shaped, flat-topped, and all above 
 the face and cranium is formed into a large oval basin, divided into 
 two stories, which contain the spermaceti. The whalers dip the oil 
 out of the head as out of a well. This animal has less blubber than 
 the Balaena whale. The odorous substance, known as ambergris, met 
 with floating on the surface of the sea, appears to be a morbid con- 
 cretion formed in the intestines of these animals. And this aromatic 
 substance is used in materia medica as a highly valued drug. 
 
 Farther south we see another variety of cetaceous blowers, the com- 
 mon whale Balaena. It is enormous in size — between seventy and a 
 hundred feet long. Its head is one-third the length of its body, and 
 its jaws are from fifteen to twenty feet long, but without teeth; and 
 the upper one, which is keel-shaped, is furnished with whalebone. 
 This name is given to great horny plates, of fibrous texture, which are 
 very elastic, and fringed at their ends, and are placed transversely, like 
 the teeth of a comb, strongly locked one into the other, and attached 
 to the jaw at the base, so as to extend from each side of the palate,
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 6^ 
 
 forming a sort of great sieve, through which the water taken into the 
 immense mouth of the animal partly escapes, without letting out the 
 small animals which it contains. The size of whales' heads leads many 
 to suppose that they live on large fishes; but this is a mistake. They 
 have no teeth, and the muscles of their jaws are weak. I'heir esoph- 
 agus is very small; they can only swallow molluscs, zoophytes whose 
 bodies are soft as jelly; and these are so numerous that the whale has 
 only to open his mouth and thousands enter. Part of the water drawn 
 in with the food runs out again through the whalebone sieve; but the 
 greater part is pressed back by the tongue, and blown out with great 
 force and noise through the nares on top of his head. It rises in jets 
 forty feet high, and falls in spray. They swim with great rapidity. 
 They are timid and fearful; but when pursued and defending them- 
 selves, they become furious and put forth their whole strength, to- fight 
 or flee. Their tail is their weapon of defense; and, when they strike 
 the water with it they produce a commotion like that from a cannon- 
 ball. A whale about seventy feet long has been ascertained to weigh 
 about seventy tons, equal to the weight of one hundred and forty oxen. 
 Most of the sea giants are enormous in size. They have warm blood. 
 The heart has two ventricles and a double circulation. Their young are 
 born alive and are suckled by the mother. Truly, those who go down 
 to the sea in ships, afki do business on the great waters, see the won- 
 ders of the Lord! I would sit for hours watching these monstrous 
 giants at play in their native element, and think and feel how small 
 and insignificant in comparison I was. But, when my own littleness, 
 ignorance and insignificance would trouble me, I would have recourse 
 to my Bible, to be reassured that I was not overlooked, seeing the spar- 
 rows were looked after. My faith in my heavenly Father's care of me 
 never wavered; but I felt of so little consequence in the scale of cre- 
 ation that I had always to look to Jesus to find out my own value — at 
 least the value He put on me. I had cost Him too much to be neg- 
 lected by Him. 
 
 "Jesus, I love thy charming name," were words often breathed by 
 md in the midst of tumult. Everything in nature that I saw interested 
 me, and I studied as much as I could. But I had sad and sober 
 thoughts. I often wondered if my mother thought of me. I would 
 turn from my earthly to my heavenly parent for comfort. I looked to 
 the future, and though my pathway was veiled from my view, yet I 
 had no fear, for God had said, and I believed: "I will be a swift wit- 
 ness against those who oppress the hireling in his wages, the widow
 
 68 THE Si'.r.' OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and the fatherless, and that turn asid^ the stranger from his right, and 
 fear not me, saith the Lord of hosts." I did most emphatically trust 
 myself to the guardianship of my heavenly Father. 
 
 The deep azure of the sky, and the dryness of the atmosphere in the 
 Southern latitudes, greatly favor the observation of clouds and con- 
 stellations. The Southern Cross is one of the most beautiful constella- 
 tions of the South. It is formed of four stars. It has been ascertained 
 at what time of the night at different seasons, the Cross of the South is 
 erect or inclined. It is a time-piece that advances very regularly near 
 four minutes a day, and no other group of stars exhibits to the naked 
 eye an observation of time so easily made. 
 
 "Midnight is past, the cross begins to bend." Humboldt says: 
 "The less regular distribution of light gives to the zone of the Southern 
 sky, situated between the parallels of 50° and 80°, which is so rich in 
 crowded nebulous spots and starry masses, a peculiar and, one might 
 say, almost picturesque character, depending on the grouping of the 
 stars of the first and second magnitudes, and their separation by inter- 
 vals, which appear to the naked eye desert and devoid of radiance." 
 "How beautiful are all thy works, O Lord! In wisdom hast thou 
 made them all." 
 
 We could not drink or cook with "rotten water," and our fresh water 
 gave out before its time; so, as we neared th^Cape of Good Hope, 
 the captain, a good man, thought he would put in for a fresh supply. 
 This proposition gave universal satisfaction. Our voyage seemed 
 more like a pleasure trip than anything else, and the Cape was one of 
 the points of interest that we were to see. We were all glad that we 
 needed water. In those days there were no condensers, or but few, 
 to distill the salt into fresh water, and steamships alone could use 
 them. Though the weather was fine, we had a terrible pitching and 
 tossing with the great ground swell, as we rolled and tumbled into 
 "Table Bay." The Bay is greatly exposed to the heavy swell of the 
 ocean, though it gives safe anchorage to ships. We entered "Table 
 Bay" with colors flying, sails spread wide, and everything ship-shape. 
 We had traveled far, but were nothing worsted. What a glorious view 
 presented itself to our admiring gaze, — the shimmering of the water 
 in the morning sun; the tall ships that lay lazily at anchor; and 
 row-boats of various sizes, plying hither and thither, and darting along 
 with the velocity of birds, skimming over the lucid deep as lightly as 
 the petrels that sport around them. There was life, yet great repose, 
 no bustle, no hurry. We let go the anchor as near to the shore as we
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 69 
 
 could. Large vessels can not get close to the landing-place. We were 
 sufficiently near to see the picturesque town to great advantage. We 
 had a striking view of Table Mountain, as it rose almost perpendicu- 
 lar with dark and frowning front to meet the clouds. The White 
 Cloud, in beautiful contrast, rolling over atid spreading out on the top 
 of the Table, has the name of "Table Cloth," a very appropriate name, 
 I think. On either hand rise the barren crags of Lion's Head and 
 Devil's Peak. At the foot of the mountain nesdes Cape Town, like a 
 child with its back against a rock and its feet in the water. So near to 
 the water did it seem, that we could imagine it sat in it; so near to the 
 mountain did it seem, we could imagine it leaned against it. The 
 town is regularly laid out, and in Dutch style, with canals in the princi- 
 pal streets. The white-washed houses, and green painted verandas, and 
 shining windows, looked charming in the distance. We had not long 
 let go the anchor, till we were surrounded by a number of boats full of 
 fruits and bread. The bread was the whitest I ever saw, but, while 
 eating it, you had to crunch what felt like the white sand from the beach, 
 mixed in with the flour. The fruits were of various kinds, luscious and 
 very abundant. 
 
 Mr, Holmes told me in the evening that several parties were going 
 ashore in hired boats, but the captain had placed his own boat at his 
 disposal, and told him to take me ashore with him, if I wished to go; 
 that I was a very good girl, and deserved to have some pleasure. I 
 was very much surprised at this compliment from the captain, and as 
 much pleased as surprised. I liked the captain, but stood in great aAve 
 of him, and had very litde to say to him. Indeed, I talked to few on 
 board, except my cousin and his friend Neptune. I never asked the 
 captain troublesome questions; this, no doubt, he liked. Mr. Holmes 
 selected a very nice party to go ashore with him, and the next morning 
 we were all in our "go ashore" dresses. We were lowered into the 
 boat very carefully. Cousin Tom said he was sorry he could not go 
 with us. The captain had said "the officers and crew are to remain 
 on board while the passengers are on shore." We had violins and bag- 
 pipes on board, so we had lively music going ashore from the ship. 
 We were a merry party. We landed, and walked to a very fine hotel, 
 had an excellent breakfast, and were very handsomely treated by Cap- 
 tain Lewis, the proprietor of the hotel. He was an elegant gentleman, 
 young, comparatively, and very handsome. He said he was delighted 
 to meet Scotch people; he admired and loved them, and had most pro- 
 found veneration for the Scotch character. He had not seen Scotch
 
 70 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ladies for many years, and he was at the service of all present, wouU 
 do everything to make their visit to tlie Cape pleasant. And he ful 
 filled his promises. The whole house seemed turned up-side down fo 
 our accommodation. I was admiring some oil paintings on the wall 
 of the parlor we were in, when he came to my side to give me souk 
 information concerning them. I was interested in what he said, anc 
 the manner in which he said it was pleasant. He asked me if I wer( 
 fond of paintings. 
 
 ''I like everything that is beautiful; but I know very little abou 
 paintings," I said. 
 
 He said he had a few superb pictures upstairs in the drawing-room 
 he would take pleasure in showing them to me, if I would do him th( 
 pleasure to accompany him. I asked Mrs. Holmes to go with me, bu 
 she sent Miss King, a young lady friend, in her stead. We went uj 
 stairs to admire paintings, but we admired everything we saw. Every 
 thing was elegant as oriental splendor could make it. Captain Lewi 
 showed us the various suites of rooms his house contained, all fitted uj 
 in a style more gorgeous than I had ever seen before. I was perfectly 
 charmed, after having been so many weeks confined to one small roon 
 in our ship. I sank down on one of the velvet covered divans, an( 
 thought of my perch on the spars. I had been confined and crampec 
 up, but did not realize it. I now felt a freedom of limb that I thoroughb 
 enjoyed, all the fine sights were truly refreshing, and the owner of al 
 this grandeur was, for the time being, our ^'■humble servant." Al 
 was so pleasant in our survey, we hardly knew how to keep our admir 
 ation within bounds. We returned to the drawing-room, where wer( 
 two grand pianos. The Captain sat down and played, and sang som( 
 beautiful pieces. He had a rich, full voice, and played exquisitely 
 Our host excused himself for a minute, and left the room, but shortly 
 returned with a jewel case in his hand. He opened it, and there lay i 
 very costly set of jewels, necklace, bracelets, ear-rings and a finger-rinj 
 of great value. We both admired, and exclaimed, "Oh, how beautiful!' 
 He put the case into my hand, and asked me to accept of it as a me 
 mento of our visit to the Cape of Good Hope. 
 
 "Oh, Captain, I would not dare to accept of so valuable a gift fron 
 a stranger." 
 
 "I have no lady friend to whom I can present it, and you will d( 
 me a favor to accept it. Take the case to your mother, and ask he; 
 permission to accept it." 
 
 "My mother is in Scotland," I said, with a quivering voice.
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 7 1 
 
 He thought Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were my parents. He then said : 
 
 "Take them to your guardians and ask them." 
 
 I took the jewels to Mrs. Holmes for her to admire. She asked me 
 what I intended to do with them. 
 
 "Return them to their owner," I said; "I can not, dare not, accept 
 of them. I could not wear them in my present circumstances." 
 
 I returned them to their owner. He asked if I would not accept of 
 the ring. I thanked him for his kindness, but firmly refused the beau- 
 tiful gem. The temptation to accept the case was very great; but I 
 had nothing in my wardrobe suitable to wear with such splendid jewels, 
 and their possession might draw my thoughts more to earth and earthly 
 possessions than I cared for. 
 
 Our party separated, some going one way, some another. Miss King 
 and I took a stroll over the town alone; at least we started with that 
 intention, but Captain Lewis, either intentionally or unintentionally, 
 joined us before we had gone far. The quaint, square-roofed houses, 
 whitewashed, and the green shutters and verandas were new to us, 
 and so were the canals along the streets. There were some fine 
 villas in the vicinity of the town, and beautiful walks shaded with 
 oaks, poplars and pines. The streets were also shaded, and lined 
 with trees. There was one beautiful walk, whence we had a splen- 
 did view of the town and the bay, and a commanding view of 
 the sandy plain and distant mountains. This walk led along the top 
 of Wynbey Hill, was wide and. thickly lined with tall trees, whose 
 branches interlaced at the top, and formed a complete leafy arch, imper- 
 vious to the sun's rays. It was perfectly delightful to sit on a rustic seat 
 under the shade of this arched avenue, and look abroad upon a scene so 
 beautiful and new. 
 
 We saw Hottentot women washing clothes in a brook in a very prim- 
 itive style. The clothes were put on a stone worn flat, just a kw 
 inches bf;low the surface of the water, and with another stone they 
 beat and battered the clothes most unmercifully, without regard to but- 
 tons or hooks and eyes. They used no soap, only beat out the impur- 
 ities and let the running stream carry them off. The clothes thus 
 washed looked pure and white. These Hottentot women are very 
 ugly. They are short and thick, with a bustle or tornure so large that 
 a full-grown person could sit on it. This, their natural shape, they 
 think very handsome. I think it a hideous deformity. Their eyes 
 ire restless, rambling, ape-like; they have an ugly expression; flat nose,
 
 72 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 thick lips, and a click in their voice. Their bodies are a wonder to 
 anatomists. 
 
 We returned to the hotel to dinner, and we fared sumptuously. Af- 
 ter dinner the captain had his black horses and phaeton at the door, 
 and said he would be happy to give me a drive to the suburbs, where I 
 would have a new view. He did not ask Miss King to go, as his 
 phaeton had only two seats; so I politely refused to go, much as I 
 should have enjoyed a drive. I could not drive out alone with a strange 
 gentleman. 
 
 Our doctor had given, as a preventive of sickness, a dancing pre- 
 scription. I never felt inclined to join the dancers on board, but in 
 the parlor the bagpipes and violins were vieing with each other, which 
 would send forth the most enticing dance music. I said I should like 
 to see how they danced to the bagpipes. The captain asked me to 
 dance a Scotch reel with him, and as I had just refused to drive out 
 with him, I consented. I could dance, and loved it, but had forsaken 
 it. The bagpiper was asked to play the tune for the reel, and my 
 Scotch Tartan dress was to figure in it. I laughed at the idea of we 
 two only dancing a Scotch reel, but when the piper began a real reel 
 tune, I was off. My partner seemed to enjoy this reel amazingly; I 
 know I did. 
 
 Our kind and gentlemanly host had so often said through the day 
 that he loved the Scotch, that Mr. Holmes began to suspect that he 
 wanted some of the Scotch party to remain at the Cape, Mr. Holmes 
 called for our bill, but the gallant captain said that he charged him 
 and his party nothing; he said he had felt great pleasure in entertain- 
 ing us, and he entertained us very handsomely. As we intended to 
 sleep on board ship, we prepared to leave our kind host. He said he 
 would like us to stay at his house as long as the ship remained in the 
 bay, free of charge. This offer was more than kind. Our own cap- 
 tain's boat was waiting for us, so we started. Our host accompanied 
 us to the ship in another boat. 
 
 Our Pibroch continued pealing or squealing all the way over the 
 water, to the great astonishment of the Dutch boatmen. After part- 
 ing with our kind host, reaching the deck, Captain Lewis handed up 
 a basket to me, filled with the most delicious fruits, a bottle of goat's 
 milk (something I had never tasted before), and some old and rare 
 Constantia wine; all of which was unexpected, but fully appreciated. 
 
 "Good-bye, Captain Lewis! I thank you for all your kindness; I 
 shall never forget it."
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 73 
 
 "Come back and stay here altogether," he said, as we shook hands. 
 "No; I must see more of the world, now that I have started on 
 
 my travels," said I. 
 
 "Will you come back with me if I go to Australia for you?" 
 
 I was somewhat startled at this speech, but I said : 
 
 "Oh, no! Do not think of such a thing. I think we must part 
 
 without the probability of ever meeting again. Once more, good-bye ! " 
 
 "But still upon our pilgrimage we pause a while, and lo! 
 In some fresh ties and hopes engage, that make it sad to go." 
 
 Rough weather outside kept us in our sheltered harbor for eight days. 
 This I did not regret, as I could see more of the Cape and the people. 
 
 One day I saw twelve pair of oxen drawing a dray with some bar- 
 rels of wine they had brought from Constantia. I exclaimed : 
 
 "How cruel to make cows draw carts." 
 
 I had never seen ox-teams before. There was a little laugh at my 
 expense, and I enjoyed it. The Dutch boor, who drove the team of 
 twenty-four oxen, was perched on top of a long pole, with a seat on 
 top of it, his head and shoulders protected by a huge sombrero, which 
 served for a parasol. It threw off the rain and kept off the sun. It 
 was a curious-looking article, but very useful, as it spread wide all 
 round his shoulders, and tapered away into a point above his head. 
 This quaint-looking boor, as he sat on a pole eighteen feet high, with 
 a whip long enough to reach the foremost ox, with his oxen and his 
 little dray, was to me a very singular sight. 
 
 I had thought it a cruel thing to yoke cows together, but when I 
 saw men tied two and two together, and driven into the sea, till they 
 were above their waists in water, and then haul out great logs of tim- 
 ber, I thought this was more cruel. The half nude men thus treated 
 were not prisoners, as I had supposed, but CafTres, with a Dutchman 
 to superintend their labor. They were handsome fellows; tall, well 
 made and strong, with black eyes and brown skins. The Caffres are 
 differently described by different authors. Lichinstein says: "The 
 universal characteristic of all the tribes of this great nation is an 
 external form and figure varying exceedingly from the other nations 
 of Africa. They are much taller and stronger, and their limbs are 
 better proportioned. Tlieir color is brown, their hair black and woolly. 
 Their countenances have a character peculiar to themselves, which 
 does not permit their being included in the other African nations or 
 races. They have the high forehead and prominent nose of the Eu-
 
 74 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ropean, the thick Hps of the negro, and the high cheek-bone of the 
 Hottentot. Their physical and moral traits partake of the highest and 
 the lowest of the African races." 
 
 Cape Colony lies 30° and 35" South latitude. It possesses a com- 
 paratively temperate climate. Its exports are wine, wool, skins, ivory 
 and palm oil. It was discovered by Bartholomew Diaz in i486, and 
 in 1520 it was taken possession of by the English. In 1650 it was 
 colonized by the Dutch; in 1795 it was again taken by the En- 
 glish, but was restored to the Dutch in 1802. In 1806 it was 
 again taken by the English, and was confirmed to them in the general 
 peace of 18 14. The Caffres and colonists have had many fights since 
 then. The inhabitants are English, Dutch, Caffres and Hottentots. 
 The beautiful Dutch town, with its quaint, flat-roofed houses, its ter- 
 raced gardens, its canals, its shaded avenues, its beautiful villas, its 
 fruits and flowers, all nestling at the foot of the great mountain, forms 
 a perfect picture, and, if once seen, is not soon forgotten. 
 
 I sat at the ship's side, drinking in the beauty of this scene, while 
 others were dancing. This became a favorite amusement, and it 
 proved beneficial — saving the doctor some trouble. 
 
 The fragrance from the orange groves was gently wafted across the 
 water by softly blowing zephyrs. The moon walked abroad in her 
 garb of light, and her reflected rays danced upon the rippling waters 
 of the bay, and the bay itself, mirror-like, reflected the shadows of the 
 tall ships, while small boats darted like graceful swans across the still 
 water. Some of these had violin, flute, or guitar, or all three, and 
 they sent forth upon the still air soft sweet sounds that were soothing 
 to the soul. Music on the water has more charms, I think, than on 
 the land. The dancers were tired; some went to their cabins, some 
 to cards. I kept my seat; the evening was not far spent. I was 
 charmed by the scene of beauty which lay before me, and my last ad- 
 miring look lingered long and lovingly on that which I might never see 
 again. The picture of that scene is painted on my memory, as if by 
 a moonbeam, in soft, pure, light colors. 
 
 " Look around ! Of all the clouds not one is moving; 
 'Tis the still hour of thinking, feeling, loving. 
 Silent and steadfast as the vaulted sky, 
 The boundless plain of waters seems to lie. 
 Comes that low sound from breezes rustling o'er 
 The grass-crowned headland that conceals the shore? 
 No! 'tis the earth-voice of the mighty sea, 
 J Whispering how quiet he can be."
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 75 
 
 Our ship's supply of fresh meat was greatly augmented by a number 
 of Cape sheep being brought on board. These sheep are remarkable 
 for their huge, fat tails, which weigh from twenty-five to thirty pounds. 
 The body of the sheep is small, and the wool is inferior. The tail is 
 the principal part. We had sheep's tail soup — very good, indeed — as 
 long as the sheep lasted. We had a plentiful supply of all the semi- 
 tropical fruits brought on board, which lasted some time. 
 
 My visit to Cape Town gave me, from beginning to end, unalloyed 
 pleasure; but it was not so with others on board. On calling the 
 roll of passengers ere we started, or rather resumed our voyage, one 
 of our hospital nurses was missing. She had gone ashore and had 
 not been seen since. Search was made all over the town ; the author- 
 ities were notified, and they searched, but all to no purpose. We had 
 to sail without her; but our captain left a letter with the proper author- 
 ities to continue the search, and, if they found her living, to send her 
 home to her native land by the first opportunity; if dead, to write to 
 her friends of her fate. She had been a good, kind nurse. The mys- 
 tery that hung over her fate cast a shadow over the hearts of the 
 thoughtful. Poor Mary! 
 
 At the break of day one morning the sails were spread to the fresh- 
 ening breeze, and filled with a fair wind, and we moved out of Table 
 Bay on a flowing sea. I was glad to go, yet sorry to leave. 
 
 "Now here, now there our steps abide; then something spurs us on — 
 A few short hours bring back the tide: we came and we are gone." 
 
 The first Sunday we were out dh the Indian Ocean we had all set- 
 tled down in our floating home and to our ship duties — our sailors all 
 clean and trim as usual, in their "go-to-ship-church clothes." On Sunday 
 they were always exempt from every kind of work, except what was 
 absolutely necessary. After the doctor had read the service for the 
 day, and all had taken their books and were reading, and quietly wait- 
 ing to hear the dinner-bell call, the captain called aloud for his tele- 
 scope, and looked a long time in one direction, and then gave the 
 glass to his first officer, and he looked long in the same direction. 
 
 "Bout ship," shouted the captain; "Bear down on that disabled 
 ship." In a moment, "bout" went the ship, and uj) started every one 
 to his or her feet, and all were eagerly looking out for the unfortunate 
 ship. We bore down upon her rapidly, and got near enough to her 
 for the captain to speak through his trumpet, and ask those we were 
 trying to approach what tlicy wanted. "Everything," was the
 
 76 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 answer. On a nearer approach, we found the distressed ship had shat- 
 tered masts and tattered sails. There were .only a few men to be seen 
 on board, and these looked listless. The captain ordered a boat to be 
 lowered, and put out to the ship, and in a twinkling our men were 
 climbing up the sides of the huge, dismantled vessel, and in a short time 
 they brought back several of the officers and crew. The ship and crew 
 had been batding with foul winds and cyclones, till all their sails were ' 
 torn to tatters, and their masts twisted and broken. They had been 
 out from India for six months; they had expected to be in England ere 
 that time. They were out of provisions; out of water; out of canvas; 
 out of spare spars; in fact, they were out of everything that was neces- 
 sary. The poor fellows could not be worse off and live. Some of 
 their men were dying from privation. The men who came on board 
 our ship were, for the time, well cared for; food and water were given 
 to them. Meantime the hatches were opened, and provisions, water, 
 spirits, canvas, sails and spars for masts, were all sent on board of 
 the unfortunate ship. Everything that humanity could prompt was 
 done for the poor, sick men. We kept close to her all that day, and 
 our sailors were going back and forth, helping and cheering their fel- 
 low men with commendable alacrity, showing that their hearts were in 
 the work. Our ship had suddenly been roused from its usual Sunday 
 quiet, to one of stir and commotion. Our sympathies were all excited 
 for these poor, starving men; our tears rained plenteously at the recital 
 of their hardships. The same winds that were carrying us along toward 
 our desired haven so delightfully, were adverse to these men, destroy- 
 ing hope and life. A few more days, and none would have been left 
 to tell of their sufferings. It is a very exciting thing to meet a ship out 
 in mid-ocean, and speak to those on board; but if the ship is disabled, 
 and the crew in distress, excitement runs high, and knows no bounds. 
 Those poor fellows bade farewell, shaking hands with deep gratitude, 
 felt and spoken. 
 
 "Hands were linked, and answering eyes, 
 With kindly meaning shone ; 
 
 The brief and passing sympathies 
 Like leaves together blown. 
 
 Then proudly, freely on their way, 
 The parting vessels bore ; 
 
 In calm or storm, by rock or bay, 
 To meet, Oh, never more." 
 
 "Land ho!" was once more heard from the lookout. "Where? 
 where?" was asked by one and another, all along from stem to stern.
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 77 
 
 Of course, none but the practiced eye of the sailor could discern land, 
 at the distance we were from it. But in time, a dark line along the 
 horizon made itself seen. This was Australia. This was the Great 
 South Land! How my heart fluttered when first I saAv that dark line; 
 but why it fluttered, I could not tell. The line broadened into a belt, 
 and day after day it grew more distinct. How many anxious hearts 
 were on board our ship. Our good captain was not the least of the 
 many who were anxious. Australia lies between io° and 45° South 
 latitude, and 130° and 154° East longitude. The mainland of Aus- 
 tralia, in its greatest breadth, between Shark's Bay on the west, to 
 Sandy Cape, on the eastern shore, is 2,400 miles; and from Cape 
 York, on the north, to Cape Otway, on the south, 1,700 miles. The 
 Dutch gave It the name of "New Holland," and the English named it 
 "Austral- Asia," including the numerous islands^adjacent in the Pacific 
 and Indian Oceans. Australia is the fifth great division of the Globe. 
 The French applied to it the name "Oceanica," and gave it a still 
 greater and wider range. The Germans changed "Terra Australis," 
 the Latin term used by old geographers to Australia, and this name is 
 now almost universally used as the designation of the mainland and 
 the adjacent islands. Australia is the Great South Land of the ancients. 
 Strabo, fifty years before Christ, mentioned a great island, which lay 
 about twenty days' sail southeast of India. Pomponious Mela also 
 mentioned a great South Land, but did not know whether it was an 
 island or the beginning of another continent. Pliny, in A. D. 77 re- 
 fers to a great island to the south of the equator, the central parts of 
 which were said to be occupied by an inland sea. The Great South 
 Land has been an object of deep interest to navigators, geographers 
 and explorers, of ancient as well as of modern times. But all through 
 the night of the Dark Ages all enterprize seemed to be abandoned. 
 The Great South Land was not unknown to Marco Polo. From the 
 time Bartholomew Diaz discovered the Cape of Good Hope, the Port- 
 uguese, the Dutch, the Spaniards and the English were all interested 
 in solving the mystery of the great unknown South Land. The Dutch 
 were the first to solve it, and they took great pains to guard their rich 
 prize. They adopted stringent measures to prevent all other nations 
 from gaining a knowledge of its character and resources, or forming 
 settlements on its shores. 
 
 Among the methods adopted to assert and assure their title to the 
 whole country, an immense chart of its coasts was engraved or cut in 
 the pavement of the new Stadt House, or Town Hall, of Amsterdam;
 
 78 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and metal plates, containing suitable inscriptions, were ordered to be 
 fastened to rocks, and hung upon trees, by the Dutch navigators, 
 wherever they landed on the shores of their New Holland — the name 
 they gave to it in 1664. One of these plates was found on Dick 
 Hartog's Island, on the western coast, nearly two hundred years after 
 it had been placed there. Here is a translation of the inscription by 
 Monsieur Perin: "The twenty-fifth of October the ship Endraghi, of 
 Amsterdam, touched here. The chief owner, Gillis Micbais Van 
 Luck; the [captain, Dick Hartogs, of Amsterdam. He sailed the 
 twenty-seventh of same month for Bantam. The supercargo was 
 Janstius; the master, Peter Ecoores Van Bu., the year, 16 16." 
 
 The great pains taken by the Dutch to secure undisputed possession 
 of New Holland had an effect different from what was intended. The 
 attention of the world was drawn toward the mysterious land. The 
 English navigators, especially, were attracted toward a land which was 
 believed to be rich in proportion to the jealousy by which it was 
 guarded. In 1768, Captain James Cook was chosen to command an 
 exploring expedition into the Pacific. The principal object was to 
 prove the existence of a southern continent. The expedition intrusted 
 to Captain Cook sailed from Plymouth on the twenty-sixth of August, 
 1768, in the Endeavor. Mr., afterward Sir, Joseph Banks and Dr. 
 Solander accompanied him. Captain Cook did not believe in the ex- 
 istence of a southern continent, and in the account of his voyage he 
 enters into arguments to prove that everybody was mistaken about this 
 land. Until within a few days of sighting the Great South Land, Cook 
 did not believe in its existence, much as had been written and spoken 
 about it. On the eighteenth of April, 1770, he discovered land near the 
 south of the continent. The first point he called Point Hicks, after his 
 lieutenant, who first discovered it. He sailed up the East Coast, nam- 
 ing and taking possession of all he saw, in the name of the English king. 
 When he got as far North as Botany Bay he entered it and landed on 
 its shores, hoisted the English flag, and, in the name of the English king, 
 took possession. He named the bay which he entered Botany Bay, 
 on account of the many and new specimens of plants found around its 
 shores by Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander, both botanists of the 
 expedition. The south side of the entrance to this famous bay was 
 named Cape Solander, after Dr. Solander; and the north side Cape 
 Banks, after Sir Joseph Banks. The Endeavor sailed from Botany Bay 
 and a few miles to the north, a sailor, named Jackson, who was on the 
 lookout, descried an opening which he thought was a bay or harbor, in
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 79 
 
 which might be a good anchorage. Captain Cook named this, as he sup- 
 posed it an unimportant opening, Port Jackson, after the man who discov- 
 ered it. He did not think it worth the trouble to enter what he thought 
 could only shelter a boat. In this, as in the matter of the Great South 
 Land, the great navigator was entirely mistaken. But great men as well 
 as small men are liable to mistakes. When Cook was about to leave the 
 eastern coast of New Holland, he once more hoisted the English colors 
 and took possession of the eastern coast in the right of his Majesty 
 King George HI., of England, by the name of New South Wales, with 
 all the bays, inlets, harbors, rivers and islands situated upon it, and fired 
 three volleys of small arms, which were answered from the ship. 
 
 Our good ship, the Portland, was steadily pursuing her course with 
 fair winds. My friend, Neptune, told me that we had a dangerous 
 strait to pass through, full of rocks, sunken and seen; but he hoped 
 we should steer clear of all in safety. The ship, always in good 
 order, was being again overhauled, and tackling, cordage and all the 
 et cffiteras of a ship's garniture, were placed so as to be within reach 
 at any moment, in case of an emergency. It required skillful naviga- 
 tion in these seas. But our shipmaster, or captain as we called him, 
 was cautious, though brave, and I had no fears. Winds and waves 
 were propitious, and we needed not to slacken sail, or alter our course. 
 We steered through the strait bravely. We were all in high glee. We 
 were nearing the end of our long, but pleasant and prosperous voy- 
 age. Oh, how much we had to be thankful for! Our kind, heavenly 
 Father had certainly kept us under His protecting care. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, one of our passengers, announced that he would give 
 a lecture on "Convicts," between decks, on a certain evening. Seats 
 were arranged so as to form a gallery for the occasion. We were all 
 on the quivive to find out what he could, or would, say on his singular 
 subject. I never heard what he did say. I was on one of the high 
 seats. The space between decks was crowded; the air was stifling. The 
 lecturer began his lecture, and to my eyes the lamps began to dance 
 in the most singular manner, and the people's heads to rise far above 
 their shoulders; then all was dark. I had fainted. When I opened 
 my eyes, I was stretched on a bench at the foot of the stairway. Mrs. 
 Holmes, cousin Tom, Neptune and two or three others were standing 
 by me, bathing my face and hands, and holding salts to my nostrils. 
 I was ashamed of fainting and giving trouble. I not only lost the 
 lecture myself, but caused others to lose it also. Cousin Tom spoke 
 out, and said :
 
 8o THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 f 
 
 "O, never mind the lecture; I would rather lose the lecture than 
 lose you." 
 
 I told him laughingly, that I was not lost, nor was I ill; I had only 
 fainted, from the oppressive heat, and stiflmg air of the crowded cabin. 
 
 We doubled Cape Howe, and saw what Captain Cook called the 
 Ram's Head. We passed the various bays and capes named by Cap- 
 tain Cook. The coast was diversified by hills and valleys, bold bluffs 
 and pointed capes, ridges and plains. We continued our sailing north 
 and a little east, till we came to what our captain thought were Port 
 Jackson Heads, or the sea gates into the harbor. The captain had 
 lost his reckoning, and discovered, when too late to rectify his mis- 
 take, that he was making for the wrong inlet. 
 
 * ' Breakers ahead ! " 
 
 What consternation took hold of captain and crew, when they found 
 themselves running full tilt against the rocks, with sails spread and well 
 filled, a stiff breeze carrying us into the very jaws of death. The 
 sails were reefed and double-reefed with lightning speed. "Bout 
 ship" was of no avail. We had a head wind and a lee shore, and 
 no sea room. The danger was imminent. What was to be done ? 
 Nothing more could be done but wait. Our fate was in the hands of 
 God. Nothing to a sailor, short of actual ship-wreck, is half so appall- 
 ing as a head wind and a lee shore. A ship-wrecked sailor has lost 
 his hope, when he has lost his ship ; but here he looks on hoping in 
 fearful suspense. 
 
 I was sitting on my cabin floor, reading some of my Savior's prom- 
 ises to those who love and try to serve him. Thus occupied, Mr. Jef- 
 ferson came down to me and said, in a grave and solemn tone : 
 
 "Miss Arbuckle, prepare to meet your God. In a few minutes, we 
 shall all be at the bottom of the sea." 
 
 I asked him what he meant. He said : 
 
 "We are doomed, and must all go to the bottom, so prepare." 
 
 I said I had not thought of danger, but if there be any, I must see 
 
 it for myself Mr. J tried to persuade me not to go on deck; but 
 
 this I wished to do, and I did go up on deck very quietly after I had 
 laid down my book. When I reached the deck, never shall I forget 
 what I saw and felt. A thrill of horror passed through my frame. The 
 first object that met my gaze was a huge perpendicular cliif, standing 
 out in fearful, frowning majesty, bidding defiance to the proud waves 
 that lashed its base. It was a grand sight. But when I turned my 
 eyes on the several groups on deck, I was startled. On the poop stood
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 8l 
 
 the brave, good captain, his arms folded over his breast, his face pallid, 
 anxiety written on his brov,', his nostrils distended, his lips compressed, 
 and like a marble statue, he was motionless. A litde below him 
 stood his first officer, a man of iron nerve, with his eyes almost starting 
 from their sockets, his arms a-kimbo, and intently gazing at the object 
 that was riveting all eyes. The crew were standing here and there in 
 groups, and in different attitudes, but all had that look of dismay that ap- 
 palled me. The passengers were standing in silent groups, some looking 
 at the countenances of their fellows, only to see their own fears painted 
 there. I looked toward the frowning cliff, with the huge breakers dash- 
 ing v,-ith sullen roar at its base, and saw our peril. We were drifting, 
 under bare poles, broadside toward the fatal rock. The bay, with its 
 narrow inlet, was before us, into which we desired to go, but hope and 
 fear were in the balance, and the suspense was awful. To those only 
 who have waited the approach of death in all its terrors, in fearful sus- 
 pense, as the moment of their fate was approaching, and each looking 
 at the other in blank despair; to those only can a picture, such as I saw 
 that morning, be realized. No human hand could save us. But many a 
 silent prayer went up from that deck to Him who alone was able to help 
 in this hour of extremity. I had not moved from the head of the stair- 
 way, where* my steps were arrested when I first came up. I was awe- 
 stricken at all I saw, but I felt that I was in God's hand, and for myself 
 I had no fear. Nearer to the breakers. The spray leaped over our ship's 
 side and wet our decks. Nearer we are being drawn to the fatal cliff. 
 One moment more, and we are gone. A great swell of the sea came 
 moving on; this would decide our fate. On it came like a moving 
 mountain, and lifted us high up. A cry arose as we were being dashed 
 against that bold, black and frowning headland. No; we are carried 
 on the bosom of that friendly wave, right past the frowning face of Cape 
 Solander, into the far-famed Botany Bay. 
 
 "Thank God, we are saved!" burst from the captain, as his mus- 
 cles relaxed. "I should not have liked to go down with so many 
 precious souls on board, so near the end of our voyage." 
 
 Our first mate, with deep-toned voice and lithe limb, was here, and 
 there, and everywhere, giving orders, which fell on willing ears, and 
 the cheerful "Aye, aye, sir," rang all over the ship. The scene was 
 changed. As soon as our ship was carried along-side the surf, parallel 
 with the face of the cliff into smoother water, she was shaken to her 
 center; but then she shook life into all on board of her, and all was 
 animation and stir. What a shaking of hands, and ejaculations of 
 6
 
 82 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 thanks to God, for our unexpected deliverance. We were on the very- 
 verge of eternity. Another moment, and we should have been dashed 
 to pieces, and have perished all. But our heavenly Father had us in 
 his guardian care. He saved us from a watery grave, and, perhaps, 
 from worse than a watery grave. Hungry sharks, in shoal, were hov- 
 ering round, waiting for a rich repast. This coast teems with these 
 voracious monsters. We are safe inside. Our anchor is cast; but 
 where ? 
 
 "In Botany Bay!" I exclaimed, when I heard the name first. 
 Where all the convicts from Great Britain have been sent for many 
 years. 
 
 Yes. Here the great navigator landed nearly seventy years ago. 
 Here landed the first fleet of eleven ships, freighted with about one 
 thousand persons, of whom one-third were women. Nearly four-fifths 
 of them were prisoners, banished from their native land, for crimes which 
 they had committed. The remainder of the colonists were chiefly per- 
 sons necessary to guard and govern the community. Captain Arthur 
 Philip was the first Governor of the Colony. Botany Bay is a large 
 sheet of water with a low sandy beach. Brush-wood and majestic gum 
 trees fill up the back ground. Few places in Australia have the his- 
 torical interest that this Bay has, and yet no monument of any preten- 
 sions has been raised to commemorate the landing of its discoverer. 
 To be sure, there is a tablet fastened to a rock, about fifteen feet above 
 high water mark, which has this inscription: "A. D. M. D. C. C. L. 
 X. X. (1770). Under the auspices of British Science, these shores 
 were discovered by James Cook and Joseph Banks, the Columbus and 
 Meecenas of their time. This spot once saw them ardent in the pursuit 
 of knowledge. Now, to their memory this tablet is inscribed, in the 
 first year of the Philosophical Society of Australia. Sir Thomas Bris- 
 bane, K. C. B. and F. R. S., and corresponding member of the In- 
 stitute of France, President." 
 
 As soon as we cast anchor the pilot came on board, but we did not 
 now need his assistance. When we did need his help, he was un- 
 able to render it. No man could help us, though the pilot saw us and 
 watched us till we were safe inside; he dared not venture to board us. 
 But now he came and brought with him a youth of wondrous beauty. 
 His raven locks waved gracefully in the wind; his expressive black 
 eyes shone like stars; his slender, well-knit frame, though equipped in 
 convicts' garb, could not but attract by the easy grace of all his move- 
 .ments. Our passengers were greatly interested in this beautiful youth.
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. 83. 
 
 "^\^lo and what is he?" was asked by many, and the answer came 
 whispering along : 
 
 " He is a convict, but the son of a lord, who was banished for some 
 misdemeanor." 
 
 My heart felt sad for the poor lad. His youth, his beauty, his de- 
 graded position, all made him an object of thrilling interest to me. I 
 wished he was at home with his mother, if he had one. I could not 
 believe so innocent-looking a creature could be guilty of any crime 
 worthy so hard a fate as his. Poor boy! 
 
 Our doctor went ashore to visit a sick child of the pilot. I wished 
 to go ashore, too, but was not allowed to go, as the doctor was not 
 coming back to the ship, but would go to Sydney overland (a distance 
 of nine miles), and he would rejoin us when we reached Sydney. As 
 night, with ebon wing brooded over the deep, and gathered us under 
 her, we retired early, after the great excitement of a most memorable 
 day. Before sunrise all were astir, as the foul wind had changed to 
 fair, and we were about to weigh anchor and move on. The sails 
 were set, and we moved out of the bay slowly, but grandly. How 
 very different were our feelings now to what they had been eighteen 
 hours before. As we passed the cliff or headland that had almost 
 proved fatal to us, we shuddered at the narrow escape we had made. 
 We had a fine, favorable breeze, and our ship had on what the sailors 
 said was "her go-ashore dress." She had been freshly painted. The 
 great guns and their carriages, and the ratlins, were all freshened up 
 with a coat of pitch, and they shone as bright in their blackness as pos- 
 sible; and the decks, in contrast, shone as bright as they could in their 
 whiten^gs. Our sailors, after their long voyage, took great pride in 
 making their ship look well, and she did credit to their pride.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 
 
 As we entered the narrow opening, or sea-gate, between two huge 
 headlands that led to the beautiful, capacious and commodious har- 
 bor of Sydney, or, as Captain Cook named it, Port Jackson, many 
 objects of beauty met the eye, — islands, bays, promontories, and 
 various scenes of loveliness. At any other time I would have been 
 in ecstacies at sight of so much that could charm the eye. But, 
 as we sailed slowly up toward the city, my mind was completely 
 absorbed with somber thoughts that were unwelcome intruders. The 
 anchor was let go near the city. Ships in great numbers were here 
 from all parts of the world, and there was room for many more. 
 Captain Cook's boat must have been a big one to have taken up all 
 the room of this spacious harbor. I was now in the most beautiful 
 harbor in the world, but could not see its beauty at the time. My 
 heart ached. Farewells spoken at any time make me sad; but here 
 were these who had been with me when I parted from my mother. 
 They were going back and I was to be left in a foreign land — a stran- 
 ger among strangers. They were the connecting-link between me and 
 home. I feared to part with them; but it must be. I had become 
 attached to the captain ; he had ever been kind to me, and my especial 
 
 friends, cousin Tom Arbuckle and Neptune (Mr. G ); the sailors 
 
 also had a share of my affections. They had all been kind and gen- 
 tlemanly in their manner to me; and even Stalker, our stern mate, and 
 myself were on the best of terms. I never caught him napping since 
 the night I was hunting for the doctor. 
 
 I felt a great sinking of heart when I thought of all these going back 
 home and leaving me alone. What could be more distressing to one 
 of weak mind, or one who had no end or aim in view. In this my 
 hour of weakness and fear I prayed to my Father who is in heaven, to 
 be my Friend, my Guide, my Protector. I knew He was all and 
 everything to me that I needed, but I felt my courage fail, sometimes, 
 when I thought of the wide unknown that lay before me, and my own 
 inexperience. At this time, how precious were God's promises! "I 
 
 (84)
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 85 
 
 will come near to them in judgment that oppress the widow or the 
 fatherless, and that turn aside the stranger from his right, and fear not 
 me, saith the Lord." After reading this I felt so confident that God 
 would take care of me, that I had no personal fear. I thought of the 
 high, and, as I felt, holy motive, that severed the ties of home, and I 
 felt assured that whatever my lot in life might be, or wherever it might 
 be cast, if I did my duty God would be with me, to strengthen, pro- 
 tect and uphold me. 
 
 The fascinations of the world, with its trials and temptations, were 
 in array against my innocence, ignorance and youth. The warfare 
 was unequal; but I read in my precious Bible that "though the Lord 
 be high, yet hath he respect to the lowly;" "Like as a father pitieth 
 his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." 
 
 What a precious book was the Bible to me in those days (it is prec- 
 ious now). It taught me how to pray, what to pray for, and to believe 
 God's promises, which I did most firmly. Surely God made his strength 
 perfect in my weakness. The doctor came from Botany Bay, and 
 sought me out as soon as he came on board. He gave a miserable ac- 
 count of the colony and the colonists, most discouraging and sickening. 
 But my mind was well fortified, so I did not feel so much as I might 
 have done thirty-six hours before, when he left us at Botany Bay. He 
 painted the picture in the darkest, most doleful colors imaginable. 
 
 "Sydney is steeped in crime; the people deluged in drunkenness and 
 vice of all sorts," said the doctor, in quite a sad tone. 
 
 "Intemperance, like a raging flood, 
 
 Is sweeping o'er the land, 
 Its dire effects in tears and blood. 
 
 Are traced on every hand. 
 It still flows on, and bears away 
 
 Ten thousands to their doom; 
 Who shall the mighty torrent stay, 
 
 And disappoint^he tomb." 
 
 A famous day in the annals of crime was this day, in which we an- 
 chored in Port Jackson. A fearful tragedy was being enacted in the 
 city about the time we were throwing out our anchor. Eight young 
 men were thrust out of this world into eternity from the gallows. 
 These men had made a (juarrel with the blacks at the Miall Creek, and 
 had killed twenty-eight of them; for which barbarous crime they did 
 not long escape the fearful doom that befell them. They hung all day 
 for their own crimes, and as a warning for others to beware of com-
 
 86 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 mitting such outrages. Our good doctor told me that the upper class 
 of society was, as a rule, vain, jealous, illiterate and extravagant; 
 nor did the lower classes present a more agreeable picture. 
 
 I was told that drunkenness was not confined to the poor in cities, or 
 to the convicts, but that all, in farm-houses and shepherds' huts, were 
 alike given to the intoxicating poison. Imagine a farm-house, far away 
 from any other, and out of the way of temptation, yet every soul drunk 
 before breakfast — male and female. Oh, how shocking! 
 
 "Almighty God ! no hand but Thine 
 
 Can check this flowing tide; 
 Stretch forth Thine arm of power Divine, 
 
 And bid the flood subside ; 
 Dry up the source from whence it flows — 
 
 Destroy its fountain-head — 
 That dire intemperance and its woes 
 
 No more the earth o'erspread." 
 
 Dr. McF professed to take a deep interest in me, and I had 
 
 great faith in him. He was a good man, but the account he gave me 
 of the country that I was about to adopt as my own was not encour- 
 aging, as he, in earnest tones, recited the effects that vice had upon 
 all the people. I knew not what to do. Go back? No. I had 
 started on the voyage of life and must not look back, or go back. I 
 must go onward, and look upward for that encouragement that seemed 
 denied to me here below. I looked to God to direct my path. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Holmes went ashore and left me in the doctor's care. My 
 friends had business on shore connected with the land they had pur- 
 chased, and unexpectedly had to go into the country, but they left me 
 in safe-keeping till they returned. They wrote to the doctor and me 
 saying that they were detained longer than they had expected; but the 
 doctor was to see to me till they could come or send for me. 
 
 This procedure did not tend to reassure me. Though I believed and 
 trusted God, and leaned upon hiA, yet I felt hope and fear take pos- 
 session of my heart alternately. My temples throbbed with an anxiety 
 that was new to me, though not so pleasant as other new things had 
 been. I felt cut off from all my past life, and the future was veiled 
 before me. 
 
 Traveling, say what we will, is one of the saddest pleasures in life. 
 If you ever feel at home or at ease in a place, it is because you have 
 found friends and begun to make your home. My four months on 
 board the ship made me have a kind of home feeling for it. My pleas-
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 87 
 
 ant surroundings and kind friends tended to bring this result. Now I 
 was about to traverse a strange land, to hear language strange to me, 
 to look on faces unconnected with my past or my future. This was 
 solitude without repose or dignity. To arrive where no one meets you 
 is painful to a sensitive nature. To be an object of curiosity is disa- 
 greeable to the shrinking and timid. Nothing but strength from a kind 
 heavenly Father can give support under such circumstances. 
 
 Mr. C , Comptroller of Customs, was a friend of Doctor 
 
 McF , and he came on board to see him. I was introduced to 
 
 this gentleman, and the doctor asked me if I would like to take up my 
 abode with his family till I was sent for. Of course, I was expected 
 to say yes. I had no choice. I could only bow my head, and ac- 
 quiesce in their decision. Mr. C said he would come for me in 
 
 the morning, and so took his leave for the present. 
 
 The Portland was to be in the harbor for two or three months, and 
 the captain was exceedingly accommodating. He told those passen- 
 gers who had to go to the country, not to hurry out of the ship till it 
 was quite convenient for them to go; -so his fam.ily did not all leave him 
 at once. The third evening after our arrival in port, was to be 
 my last night on board. We had a party on board, a kind of 
 farewell party, and we all enjoyed ourselves as well as we could 
 under the circumstances. I had all my things packed up, ready to go 
 ashore next morning, and was at my usual post, looking over the ship's 
 side, when my attention was drawn to an eight-oared galley skimming 
 the surface of the water, as if nothing could impede its progress, and 
 making straight for our ship. The oarsmen were all dressed in 
 pure white, with blue stripes down the sides of their pants, with cuffs 
 and collars of the same color ornamenting their jackets, and blue caps 
 on their heads. The galley came alongside, and I saw Mr. C sit- 
 ting in the stern. He called for me, and my heart played pit-a-pat as 
 I got ready to leave the good ship that brought me so far, and all those 
 who.belonged to her, who had been kind to me. All my friends clus- 
 tered round me to say good-bye, and I was consigned to the care of 
 
 Mr. C for the time-being. The usual manner of getting out of 
 
 the ship into a boat was by going down the steps placed on the side of 
 the ship. My turnout was somewhat different. The captain had the 
 chair in readiness for me. This was no other than a large cask, fash- 
 ioned into an arm-chair, with back and sides. About one-third of the 
 cask was left with the bottom to put your feet and skirts in. It was 
 cushioned inside, and painted outside. I was handed into this nice
 
 50 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 chair by cousin Tom and Neptune, who threw the Union Jack, the flag 
 of England, over my lap, and tucked me in. The captain stood by, 
 and, when all was ready, gave the signal to lower me over the ship's 
 side. Away I went, not over and down, but up. I was hoig!ted up, 
 up to the yard arm, and hung suspended, while those below gave three 
 cheers as a parting salute. I was then lowered into the galley, where 
 Mr. C received me, saying: 
 
 "You must have been a favorite." 
 
 The rope that fastened the galley was loosened, and off we darted 
 like a dolphin. We navigated^^the harbor, amorig beautiful islets, capes 
 and barren rocks, for eight miles, when suddenly rounding a projec- 
 tion, we entered a bay. Its shores looked like a crescent-shaped gar- 
 den, with an elegant villa in the center of it. This was Waterview 
 
 Bay and villa, the residence of Mr. C and family. I was perfectly 
 
 charmed at the varied beauties of the harbor, as we came rapidly along. 
 I felt a slight tremor as I touched terra firma^ for the first time since I 
 left the Cape of Good Hope, What sort of people compose the house- 
 hold of Mr. C ? How will they receive the young stranger? were 
 
 questions I mentally asked. As the galley touched the jetty, I leaped 
 upon the shore of the Great South Land, in December, 1838, sixty- 
 eight years after Captain Cook landed at Botany Bay, and fifty years 
 after the first fleet of colonists and convicts arrived at the same place. 
 
 When I was introduced to Mrs. C , I thought I was in the presence 
 
 of an earthly angel. Miss Emily C was about my own age, and 
 
 I thought I should like her. They greeted me, and welcomed me very 
 cordially. I thought I should be happy here for the time-being. How 
 my feelings fluctuated, I was not twenty-four hours in the house, till 
 my feelings underwent a change, A few more hours, and again they 
 were revolutionized. When shall I be able to look at things as they 
 really are ? I exclaimed, and not let my feelings be ruffled and soothed 
 as things unpleasant or pleasant transpire. I said, perhaps when I am 
 older and more experienced, I shall be more philosophic. I had a new 
 cause of disturbance to my too easily moved feelings. In this pleasant 
 family there was a sick, middle-aged lady. I think she was related to 
 the family. She had left Ireland to follo\i^ the fortunes of her friends, 
 
 and as Mrs. C was a very delicate lady, her friend took the care 
 
 of the household upon herself. Every one of the family loved her; 
 spoke highly of her; would do anything for her, and longed for her 
 recovery. I was introduced to this sick lady, and sat by her a long 
 time, I was interested in all she said, A few hours after I left her
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 89 
 
 she died, and as soon as the breath left her body, the whole family left 
 the house. Those whom she loved, and who loved her, gave orders 
 for her immediate interment. A coffin was procured, and she was left 
 in the hands of the convict servants, to pay the last sad services to this 
 valued family friend. Not one of the family seemed to think they had 
 any respect to pay, or duty to perform. A few hours after she had 
 breathed her last, she was carried to her last resting place, as I thought 
 in indecent haste. This event troubled me. I thought, were I to die, 
 I should be treated in like manner; not that it would matter at all, but 
 I thought the whole affair shockingly heartless. 
 
 When the family returned, Mrs. C asked why I looked down- 
 cast. I told her all I felt, and she very kindly undertook to explain 
 what appeared to me inexplicable. She said, in the sweetest tones : 
 
 * ' My dear girl, you think it cruel to bury the dead so soon after 
 dying, but in this hot climate it must be so, otherwise, decomposition 
 sets in so quickly. The offensive odor would injure the living, and 
 could not serve the dead. So we have no choice, but to bury the dead 
 ought of our sight as soon as possible. The reason why the children 
 were taken away was, that they might not see death, or be near any- 
 thing that would make them sad or gloomy." 
 
 I was satisfied with her explanation, but I was, for a time, very 
 
 thoughtful. I tried to look at the bright side of things, as Mrs. C 
 
 was exceedingly pleasant. Mrs. C was an objecl; of deep interest 
 
 to me from the first. She had a fragile, sylph-like form, a sweet, pale 
 face, and a most angelic smile, and one of the sweetest voices I ever 
 heard. When she was speaking to me, I hung upon her words, and 
 they soothed my troubled thoughts. 
 
 "A little word in kindness spoken ; a motion or a tear, 
 Has often healed the heart that's broken, and made a friend sincere." 
 
 Mr. C , his children and servants, looked to Mrs. C as a su- 
 perior being, and she well deserved their love; and Mr. C de- 
 served such a wife. He was one of nature's noblemen. The calm 
 majesty of a superior mind sat upon his brow. He left the cares and 
 troubles of office behind in the city, and came home to receive a smiling 
 welcome from his family. Home joys were pleasant to him. The family 
 belonged to the Church of England, and the prayers of the Church were 
 
 read in the morning by Mrs. C , and in the evening by Mr. C . 
 
 On Sunday, as there was no church nearer than Sydney, the Epis- 
 copal service was read and prayers said by the head of the house to his
 
 C)o THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 family and ten convict servants. I thought it somewhat strange that these 
 men and women, all convicted of crimes in their own country, and ban- 
 ished to this far-off land, behaved so remarkably well. I pitied them. I 
 was told to pity them but not to talk to them, for some of them were very 
 bad. As yet I had not seen anything of the vices of the colonists. 
 The C family were high-toned, religious people, and I truly ap- 
 preciated my temporary home. Miss Emily and myself became great 
 friends. We walked, and talked, and studied, and bathed, and sat for 
 hours together in the little water-washed caves eating water-melons. I 
 liked the melons; I had never tasted them before. I liked to sit in 
 these little caves, above the reach of the water. We had a beautiful 
 outlook from where we sat. All nature seemed so lovely — I could not 
 realize that man was so vile as had been represented. To be sure, I 
 had seen but few persons since I set foot on the Great South Land. I 
 was called romantic because I loved to walk in the forest — all the coun- 
 try was forest, outside the yard and garden. I listened to the dashing 
 waters on the beach, or against the rocks, with gleeful interest. I 
 heard music in everything, and my elastic spirits were attuned to my 
 surroundings. As Miss Emily and myself were eating melons one 
 day, in our rocky den, and listening to the splashing waters at our 
 feet, and looking out upon the bay, we saw a boat sweeping up to the 
 head of the bay. My cousin Tom and Neptune, and two or three 
 other officers of the ship had taken the captain's gig and come round 
 to see me. I was delighted to see them. They said they had come 
 to see their "little pet." I had not known that they called me "pet." 
 I went out on the bay, and a delightful sail I had in the gig with them. 
 They all seemed like brothers, they were so kind and pleasant. A few 
 of the passengers who lived in the city were invited to dine on board 
 the Portland. My cousin and his friend came for me to join the party, 
 and it was a very pleasant reunion, before the ship was all "turned 
 out of doors" to prepare for freight. 
 
 I found the climate fearfully hot. It was midsummer in December. 
 
 Water was very scarce; rain had not fallen for a long time. Mr. C 
 
 kept a man doing nothing else but to carry water. It had to be brought 
 a distance of eight miles, through a dense forest, on a small cart. 
 Water had to be brought all this way to cook and wash for nineteen 
 persons, nine of the family and ten servants, besides drink for the ani- 
 mals. Breadstuffs, and every kind of food, were at almost famine 
 prices in Sydney. 
 
 Miss Emily and myself bathed in the sea every day. We ducked
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. pi 
 
 and dove and splashed till we were tired. One day we were enjoy- 
 ing this fun (the day was fearfully hot), and I had no bathing-cap on, 
 and my head was exposed to the burning rays of the sun. I did not 
 know the danger I was in ; but experience taught me a lesson. When 
 I came out of the water I shivered with cold. I was so giddy that I 
 fell down. I could not dress myself. Miss Emily became alarmed 
 and ran to the house for help. One of the servants came down and 
 found me lying on the bathing-house floor, and lifted me up and car- 
 ried me to the house almost senseless. Hot gruel was given to me to 
 drink, but still I shivered and shook — nothing could make me warm. 
 I was placed before the kitchen fire — the only one in the house — but I 
 could not get any heat. Everybody else was panting for a breath of 
 cool air. The thermometer stood 150° in the sun, but I was cold, 
 very cold, and was carried cold and speechless to bed. Dr. Nicholson 
 (afterward Sir Charles Nicholson) was sent for from Sydney. He came 
 and pronounced me in a very dangerous condition, and strongly recom- 
 mended that I should be taken to the Sydney Hospital, where I could 
 have prompt and constant attention. When I heard the hospital named, 
 I said: 
 
 "My doom is fixed; I must die." 
 
 I had a great horror of the hospital. There was no choice for me 
 but to say, "No," when I was asked had I any objections to going to 
 the hospital. A bed was put into the boat, and two men carried me 
 in a chair to the boat, and laid me very tenderly on the bed. These 
 two and a woman took me to Sydney, where a carriage was waiting on 
 the landing to carry me to what I thought was my doom. As we sailed 
 down the harbor we passed the Portla7id. I saw my cousin Tom, but 
 could not raise my hand to wave my handkerchief. 
 
 "Farewell, cousin Tom! I hope to meet you in heaven," and we 
 passed on. 
 
 When the gloomy portals of the hospital were passed, and they were 
 closed behind me, I felt as if I were shut up in a living tomb. It was 
 more like a prison than anything else, with its walls fiflecn feet high, 
 and huge iron gates shut and locked and bolted, and everything pleas- 
 ing to the eye bolted outside. What a pang shot through my heart when 
 my kind attendant left me in the Porter's Lodge, and two rough-look- 
 ing men came and lifted me up in their arms and carried me across a 
 bare court-yard; not a blade of grass to refresh the eye — nothing to be 
 seen but high stone walls and iron-grated windows, while the sun's 
 blazing light and scorching heat, reflected from the walls, made the
 
 92 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 yard feel like a furnace. I was carried up stairs and into a ward lined 
 with little beds, on each side of its whole length, and on every bed a 
 patient. The men who carried me set me down beside one o-f these 
 narrow beds on the floor. I could not sit, and I lay down on the floor. 
 I looked up and saw a pale-faced woman on the little bed beside me. 
 A coarse-looking woman (I supposed that she was a nurse) came to me 
 with a small mattress, and rolled me upon it. I could not help my- 
 self. Mrs. C , before I left Waterview Villa, had packed up some 
 
 clothing that she thought I might need: a comfortable flannel-lined 
 dressing-gown, some money, and a few books — all of which were taken 
 from me when I entered this gloomy abode. Night, with her sable 
 mantle, covered the earth, and shut out the last rays of the sun from 
 this sick-room. My head and limbs ached fearfully. I was suffering 
 mentally as much as physically, and I was in a perfect agony of ex- 
 citement. No one came to undress me or give me a cup of water to 
 moisten my parched lips and throat. Fever ran riot in my veins. I 
 wept sore, and sobbed. I thought all were asleep in the large, dark- 
 ened room, and I called out : 
 
 "Oh, mother! mother!" 
 
 But there was no mother near to answer the heart's cry of the sick 
 child. I felt a soft hand upon my cheek, and I heard a tender voice ask : 
 
 "Where is your mother, dear?" 
 
 "Oh, my mother is in Scotland, and I am so afraid in this dreadful 
 place," I answered. 
 
 "Poor child!" said the sweet voice; "your mother can not hear 
 you, but God can hear you; pray to Him. He will take care of you." 
 
 "Oh! I do pray to Him. I have no Friend but Him." 
 
 "You are safe in His friendship. Trust Him always, and 'He will 
 never leave you or forsake you.'" said the trembling voice. After a 
 pause, she said: "Poor dear, I shall not be long here." 
 
 " Oh, do not go away and leave me here alone, for I think you are 
 so good." 
 
 My heart went out toward the poor sick woman. She had spoken 
 words of comfort to the lonely orphan. 
 
 "But," said she, "the I>ord will call me soon and I must go." 
 
 "I hope you are not going to die," I said. 
 
 "I am going to die," she said, very calmly. 
 
 "Oh, do not!" 
 
 She put her cold hand upon my head, for I was crying. 
 
 **Hush, dear; be good and sleep."
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 93 
 
 I hushed, but could not sleep in that great shadowy room. It was 
 not pitch dark, for then I could have seen nothing. A dim lamp hung 
 suspended at the far end of the room, which gave a ghastly appear- 
 ance to everything. On every narrow bed lay a figure covered with a 
 white sheet. The length of the room and the dim sepulchral light in 
 the distance gave my fevered brain the idea that every bed contained 
 a corpse. My heart beat quicker than usual. I did not wish to be 
 afraid. I struggled hard not to cry out, but a strange fear was taking 
 hold of my whole being; and my physical sufferings I could hardly 
 endure. I did not wish to awake the poor sick woman at my side, but 
 to assure myself that I was among the living, I put my hand up, and, 
 to my great horror, I passed it over the cold and clammy face of a 
 real corpse. I then gave a scream that made that gloomy chamber 
 ring, and awoke all the sleepers but the poor woman at my side. She 
 was now taking the dreamless sleep that knows no waking, A nurse 
 came to me, and, in an angry voice, asked : 
 
 "What the deuce are you making such a row for?" 
 
 I covered and hid my face with my hands; a mortal fear shook my 
 frame, and I could not help sobbing and crying as if my heart would 
 breakup The nurse was about to leave me and go back to her bed, 
 without knowing or caring why I gave such a terrified cry. She scolded 
 me and turned to go, when I found courage to call out: 
 
 "Oh, do not go! Look here!" and I pointed to the bed at my side. 
 
 "Oh," said the coarse woman, "now you can get a bedstead to lie 
 on, when we turn this one off of it." 
 
 She went and brought another woman, who helped her to toss and 
 tumble the poor, lifeless body in a most brutal way, pulling the bed- 
 clothes off, and leaving the ghastly corpse with only a scant garment 
 for covering. I dared not look at the body : the naked limbs, the oi)en 
 mouth, the half-closed eyes were to me, in my fevered condition, per- 
 fectly horrible. After a while a sheet was thrown over the body, and. 
 when day dawned, two ill-looking men came into the ward with a box, 
 and, with oaths and vulgar words, they put the mortal part of one 
 whose immortal part was beyond the scoff and scorn, the obscene lan- 
 guage and brutal treafrnent hurled at her, into the box. 
 
 Oh, how I cried to God to save me from such treatment! I knew 
 she felt nothing, knew nothing after death; but I was still alive and 
 full of feeling, and I could not endure to think of such indignities to 
 my poor dead body, without horror. 
 
 " O Lord, save me alive to leave this dreadful place," was my prayer.
 
 94 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Whether this prayer was a submissive one I doubt very much. My 
 prayer was answered ; perhaps in order to teach me to be more trust- 
 ful and submissive. I had yet much to learn, and every day I. was re- 
 ceiving new lessons. This poor woman, though unknown to earth's 
 great ones, wears a crown of glory, I believe, brighter far than those of 
 earth. Her poor, emaciated body was thrown into a rough box and 
 hurried away to a pauper's grave. She knew the Lord would call her, 
 and she calmly said: 
 
 "I must go." 
 
 She had no fear. Her last words to me were words of Christian 
 comfort and kindness : 
 
 "Trust God always; He will take care of you. Hush, dear! Be 
 good and sleep." 
 
 She passed away from the seen to the unseen world, without sigh, 
 or groan, or struggle. No hand of aifection was near to do the last 
 kind office for her, who must ever have been kind to others. Well, 
 her body rests as quietly as a queen's, and her soul no doubt reigns 
 with her Savior. Farewell, good, kind woman! whoever you were. 
 I shall cherish your memory. 
 
 I lay on that hospital floor all night in my clothes, and burning with 
 fever, with a corpse for my companion, and my feelings wrought up to 
 the highest pitch by fear and horror. The nurse was a most coarse and 
 unfeeling woman, and I was greatly afraid of her. As soon as the 
 corpse was removed from the stretcher-bed, I was undressed and put 
 on it. Oh, how my flesh shrunk from the contact! I begged the 
 nurse to let me lie on the floor rather than put me on that bed; but she 
 scolded me and ordered me to lie still; I was in her way on the floor. 
 I said no more about the bed. I asked for my own sleeping-gown and 
 my dressing-gown, and some other garments that I had brought with 
 me. I wished to wear them, and not the mean, pauper-like hospital 
 garments that the woman was putting on me, to my great disgust. But 
 she said I should not have them till I left. So I could do nothing but 
 cry. I was very much mortified at my appearance, though all were 
 dressed alike. I did not like any of the patients to see me. 
 
 The doctor came, and I hid my face under thfe sheet for very shame 
 at my queer equipment. The doctor asked, in a kind tone, of the 
 nurse what ailed me that I cried so. The vulgar hypocrite said, blandly 
 enough : 
 
 "The dear child has done nothing but cry since she was brought 
 here yesterday. She says she wants her books."
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 95 
 
 ''Then let her have them. She must be better attended to than she 
 appears to have been since she came in." 
 
 If the nurse had said I wanted my own clothes and m}- money, I 
 doubt not she would have been ordered to let me have them. As it 
 was, I was to have my books, and I was moved to another bed in the 
 corner of the room, where no other beds were near me. This consid- 
 erateness of the doctor was duly appreciated by me. All the pains and 
 aches of my body settled in my limbs, and the pain I suffered was ex- 
 cruciating. I had my Abbott's Young Christian, Jane, the Yozaig Cot- 
 tager, and The Sinner's Friend. I was too ill to read, but I never 
 complained. I wanted nothing; I asked for nothing; and when meal- 
 time came, I Could not eat the coarse food they gave me, but other 
 patients could eat mine and their own too. I lived on rice-water all 
 the time I was there. The men Avho had carried me up to the ward, 
 and carried the corpse out of it, were under-nurses in the female ward. 
 They cleaned it, and waited on the patients. My sensitive nature was 
 shocked at this arrangement. I saw and heard much that shocked me. 
 I used my books to cover my eyes from all sights that offended me. 
 I could not shut out sounds so easily. 
 
 A very beautiful woman lay on a bed opposite to mine, her feet to 
 mine. Her beauty looked almost superhuman, but a more profane, 
 blasphemous tongue I never heard in woman's head. The horrid oaths 
 she would belch forth were perfecdy frightful. One day, when no one 
 was near, I asked her in a very meek manner, if she would please not 
 say so many bad words, she frightened me. She roared out : 
 
 "You young Methodist hypocrite, I shall swear just as much as I 
 want to, and more for your benefit. Ha! ha! A fine thing, a Metho- 
 dist. Ha! ha!" 
 
 I was sorry that I had spoken to her, for I did not like being called 
 a Methodist hypocrite. The two male nurses came in and sat down upon 
 her bed, and she made all sorts of sneering, jeering remarks about the 
 Methodist hypocrite they had got among them. And until the day I 
 left the hospital, I was subjected to the al)usive tongue of this beautiful 
 demon. When she began to speak to me, or about me, in foul lan- 
 guage, I always covered my head with the sheet. I was grieved to 
 hear such cursing issue from lips that seemed formed for blessing. Be- 
 tween the taunting tongue of this beautiful creature, and those who 
 joined her, and the terrible pains I suffered, I was constantly on the 
 rack. Many were the sad and bitter tears I shed, when that great room 
 was shrouded in gloom at midnight, and no kind hand to wipe them
 
 gO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 away. But had a kind mother's hand been there to wipe them, there 
 would have been none to wipe away. In those dreary, sleepless nights, 
 "I cried unto the Lord with my voice, even unto God with my voice, 
 and He gave ear unto me. In thee, O Lord, do I put my trust; let 
 me never be put to confusion. Deliver me from this' place, and cause 
 me to escape. Incline thine ear, and save me, for thou art my hope. 
 I am an alien unto my mother's children. O God, Thou art my Father, 
 and Thou, dear Jesus, art my Brother. For Thy dear sake I can bear 
 reproach, but be thou near to me at all times, to give me strength." 
 
 Sunday was the only day that visitors were admitted to see their friends. 
 On the first Sunday of my being in that house, what was my consterna- 
 tion, when two gentlemen were brought into the ward, and walked 
 up to my bedside, and I saw my handsome cousin, dressed in full uni- 
 form, and Neptune with him. Oh, what a bright vision were they in 
 that house of gloom. I was glad to see them, but so mortified at being 
 seen in the hateful habiliments I had on, that I covered my head and 
 cried. Tom cried too. He took my hand and held it quietly for some 
 time, till I became composed enough to speak to them. The nurse, 
 with great obsequiousness, brought chairs, and fluttered about, and 
 asked in the kindest tones, if I wanted anything. These were the first 
 kind words she had addressed to me since she had me in charge. I 
 had no wants that she could supply, so I thanked her. I told Tom 
 that the nurse had taken my clothes, money and books ; she was or- 
 dered to return to me my books, but she had my nice clothes, and I 
 did not like the ones I had on. 
 
 "Never mind your dress, make haste and get well, and get out of 
 this place," said he, in a cheery tone. 
 
 I asked him how he knew where I was. He said some of the sailors 
 saw a boat pass the ship, and they thought they saw me stretched out 
 on a bed. 
 
 "I then got a glass and spied you, and saw you carried ashore, and 
 put into a carriage, and driven off toward the hospital. I came up next 
 day to make inquiries, and found you were here, but could not see you 
 till to-day." 
 
 The beautiful demon, as I thought the woman opposite, was watching 
 us with the most intense interest. The nurse came to give me my 
 "physic," as she said. Cousin Tom took it out of her hand; he said he 
 would give it to me. He put his hand under my pillow to raise me up, 
 and gave the black draught to me. He was so good. God bless him, I 
 prayed. They left me, but left behind a bright ray of sunshine, that
 
 LIFE AXD SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 97 
 
 cheered me wonderfully. The nurse was shaking up my pillows, when 
 she found some money under it. She was about to consign it to her 
 own capacious pocket, when the woman opposite shouted: 
 
 " Come, nurse, that is not fair, give the girl her money. I saw the 
 young gentleman put it under her head." 
 
 "Well, let her treat us if I give it up," said the nurse. 
 Cousin Tom took this delicate way of leaving me the use of some 
 money, seeing the nurse had mine, and she very nearly had his too. 
 It was kind, I thought, of Tom, but I did wish that he had not left it. 
 The two women asked what should be sent for. I told them I wanted 
 fruit, for I was thirsty and hot with fever. So a basket of sweet, juicy 
 fruit was brought. I took one pear out of the basket, and the rest was 
 divided among those who did not really need it. Every day kind mes- 
 sages and fruit and delicacies were sent to me by Mrs. C , but I 
 
 knew nothing of them, or ever partook of them. This hospital had 
 been built for convicts, but as free settlers became numerous, they 
 needed another hospital; so another place was provided for the con- 
 victs, and those who were pay patients were admitted to this place. 
 But the nurses, both men and women, were, or had been, convicts, and 
 they were drunken, and dishonest, and very rough. Two weeks I 
 stayed in this prison-like abode, when one day I was able to get up 
 without help. I was entirely free from pain. I felt well, and told the 
 nurse so, and told her to bring my clothes, I wished to dress, and leave 
 the hospital. She said I could not go without the doctor's permission. 
 When he came in the morning, I told him I felt well, and Avished to 
 leave. 
 
 "Well," he said, "continue well until to-morrow, then you may go." 
 
 I did not know how to send a message to Mr. C that I was 
 
 better, or he would have sent for me. I had not heard one word from 
 them since I had been in the hospital, though many messages were 
 sent to me. Next day the garments that I wore when I came to the 
 ho.spital were brought to me, and no more. I was dressed after a long 
 time, and when I said good-bye to the nurse, I hoped never to see her 
 again. I reached the stair ; I was afraid to step down, lest I should make a 
 somersault. My head was so giddy I sat down; then I crawled down 
 step by step till about half-way down, fearing lest any one should see 
 me. I nearly fainted when I reached the foot of the long stairs. I 
 was leaning against the wall for support, when one of the male nurses 
 coming down stairs saw me, and was about to call the house surgeon to 
 me, I looked so ill. I told Iiim not to call him ; I was not ill, only weak, 
 7
 
 gS THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and if he would help me across the yard, and let me go out at the gate, 
 I should be very much obliged to him. The doctor said I might go. 
 
 "All right," said the man, and he half-supported me across the 
 yard, opened the great iron gate, and when I passed through, he shut 
 the gate with a bang, and bolted me out. Oli, what a relief! I stag- 
 gered across the street. I wished to get as far from the gate as possi- 
 ble, but my limbs refused to carry me. I fell up against a low stone- 
 wall surmounted by an iron railing, just opposite the ponderous iron 
 gate I had but now emerged from. Here I sat for a long time, unable 
 to walk. Moreover, I had never set foot in the great city, and knew 
 not which way to go, and no one passed by of whom I could ask direc- 
 tions. I was getting faint and weary to exhaustion, when some one 
 passing saw my pale face and sinking frame, and asked me if I were 
 sick. I roused up, looked across to the great gate ; I feared to re-enter, 
 and said : 
 
 "Oh, no; not sick, only tired. Will you tell me where to find the 
 custom-house? Which way to take?" I was directed which way to 
 
 go, but I was very long in finding it. Mr. C was astonished to 
 
 see me, and said I did not look well enough to leave the hospital. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I am well, only tired and weak," I said. "Take me 
 home, and I will be quite well soon." 
 
 "I will surely take you home if you wish it," Mr. C said, and 
 
 I did wish, above every other thing at that time, to get home. Mr. 
 
 C helped me down to the galley that took me from the ship. 
 
 Here were the eight young men dressed in white, ready, with oars in 
 hand, to dart off with us, as soon as the signal was given. These 
 young men were all convicts, and were in the custom-house service. 
 We had a pleasant sail, or rather row, to Waterview Villa. All were 
 pleased, but surprised, to see me. I looked more like a grave-deserter 
 than anything else, they told me. From over-exertion and excitement 
 on this day, the next I lay in a stupor Avithout power to speak or move, 
 though quite conscious. Fortunately, ere another day rolled round, 
 I was able to be on my feet; otherwise, I was going to be taken back 
 to the hospital. 
 
 Governor Phillip, when he landed at Botany Bay, found it unsuitable 
 for a new and permanent settlement; so he began to look for a more 
 eligible place, and he soon found on Port Jackson what he desired. 
 The settlers, convicts and stores were removed to Port Jackson. The 
 land was cleared, a city laid out and named Sydney, for a nobleman 
 .of that jaame, who was at that time Colonial Secretary, The second
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. 99 
 
 fleet arrived in 1791 with two thousand persons, the convicts and their 
 keepers. The history of the colony under Governor Philhp is a record 
 of continual struggles against adverse circumstances. The pilfering 
 habits of some of the convicts, and the attempts of others to escape, 
 caused much trouble. The great mass of vice and crime that had been 
 poured upon the shores of New South Wales for fifty years, made it a 
 sink of iniquity. When ships arrived with female convicts, if the 
 women were at all refractory, they were sent to a factory where they 
 had to work hard and fare worse. This factory was at Parramatta, 
 about fourteen miles from Sydney, at the head of a prolongation of 
 Port Jackson, called Parramatta River, the name signifying a place of 
 eels. Other convict women, who were better behaved, were assigned 
 to different classes of people. Magistrates and other pubhc function- 
 aries would have female convicts assigned to them by Government, 
 whose labor would stand for the salary of said public officers. Farm- 
 ers, squatters and merchants had female convicts assigned to them on 
 agreement that they bound themselves under a penalty of ^20 to re- 
 tain them for three years in their service, finding the necessary subsist- 
 ence, clothing and lodging, and in no case to let them go beyond their 
 control, except with the consent of a magistrate, or in case of bad con- 
 duct legally proved. Now, some of these poor women, who had been 
 banished for very small crimes, and had repented of their faults, would, 
 had they had an opportunity, have reformed and made useful women ; 
 but often they were assigned to ticket-of-leave men, who were low, 
 coarse and brutal; and these men, who had been convicts themselves, 
 ought never to have had females assigned to them. Many of these 
 poor women were dragged down to the lowest depths of degradation 
 and vice, and none to pity or save them. Other women, young, good- 
 looking, but vicious in their habits, would be assigned to young men 
 who were beginning life by squatting, and to men who had left their 
 native land to prepare a home in this distant land for their wives and 
 young families. All these were highly respectable husbands, brothers 
 and sons at home; but here they were all free from liOine influences, 
 and gave loose rein to their evil propensities. They drank and quar- 
 reled and fought and often killed each other. The whole country was 
 corrupt. Magistrates in the country districts were to be seen in pub- 
 lic with their assigned women. Other men were not at all ashamed 
 of their manner of life. They made vice fa.shionable, who ought, by 
 virtue of their office and social status, to have stemmed the torrent that 
 was deluging the fair and beauteous land. When I read the accounts
 
 lOO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 of all the wickedness that was transpiring around me, I thought our 
 good Dr. McF had not given me an exaggerated picture. 
 
 Oh, how important to have the fear of God before our eyes, and his 
 love in our hearts, to keep us from evil. With such families as Mr. 
 C 's, convicts, both male and female, were in very favorable cir- 
 cumstances to reform ; and it was both the interest and inclination of 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. C to preserve a domestic atmosphere of decency, 
 
 and something like pure manners, on account of their children. And 
 if they did not succeed to their entire satisfaction, they at least pre- 
 vented drunkenness, unblushing vice, and gross disgusting language. 
 I saw little to offend either eye or ear while I was at Waterview Villa. 
 
 Mrs. C told me one day that they expected a farewell visit from 
 
 the distinguished explorer. Captain Sturt, who had been appointed Sur- 
 veyor-General of South Australia, and who intended to carry his fam- 
 ily to that distant province. I was all curiosity and anxiety to see the 
 great Australian explorer and discoverer. I could not then divine a 
 reason for my curiosity, or anxiety to meet him, or the result of that 
 meeting. The day for his visit rolled round. He came, brought 
 his wife, two children and their nurse, to spend a day or two at 
 the villa. The children, one and three years old, were beautiful 
 boys, fair as lilies. Mrs. Sturt was elegant in her manners, but 
 sharp-featured. I did not, at first sight, think of her as I had thought 
 
 of Mrs. C : that she was a human angel. I was perfectly charmed 
 
 with Captain Sturt. He was a grand-looking, middle-aged man, with 
 courtly manners, but kind and pleasant with all. He and I became 
 friendly at once. I had great veneration for him; he was a great trav- 
 eler, and he must have mines of knowledge that I had a great desire 
 to dive into. I hung upon his words because they gave me new ideas. 
 My mind seemed to grow while listening to him. He was a great man. 
 He asked me if I liked New South Wales. I told him I thought I 
 could like it if the people were not so bad, for I was afraid of bad 
 people; and there were so many convicts in the country that I did not 
 know how to talk to them, and did not know the convict from the free 
 man. He laughed and said : 
 
 "This is a convict colony, and the people, as a rule, are very wicked 
 ■ — both the free man and the prisoner." He put his hand upon my 
 head, and said: "You had better come with us; we are going to a 
 beautiful country, where there are no convicts, and the people are de- 
 cidedly more respectable; but there are not many there — it is a new 
 province."
 
 LIFE AND SUFFERINGS IN NEW SOUTH WALES. lOI 
 
 I said I should like to go if my friends would also go. 
 
 "We should like Mr. and Mrs. C to go very much, but they 
 
 can not go," said the captain. 
 
 "Oh, I do not mean them. I mean Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, who 
 were my guardians from Scotland, and I am left here till they can come 
 or send for me from the country." 
 
 "Suppose you change guardians, and take Mrs. Sturt and myself 
 instead of Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. We will be father and mother to 
 you; will take good care of you and provide for you. Will you go 
 with us to the new country?" 
 
 The new, unknown country had a charm for me, because it was un- 
 known, and the distinguished traveler, who was, with his wife, so well 
 fitted to take care of me and instruct me, had asked me to go with 
 them, and had promised me guardianship and fatherly and motherly 
 care. Surely, thought I, God has opened this way for me to leave 
 this crime-stained land. I said I shall go if Mr. and Mrs. Holmes do 
 not object. They were written to, and they did not object. So I had 
 to get ready for another leave-taking in a very short time. The four 
 months that I was on board the Portland I had no clothes washed; 
 consequently I had many dozens of garments to wash, and I had only 
 had a few articles washed since I came ashore, and all the rest were in 
 the laundry. I had not the time to wait for them to be washed, so I 
 told the laundress when they were washed to divide them among the 
 women servants. They had, though convicts, been very kind to me. 
 
 I packed two trunks to take with me, and left my great sea-chest to 
 be sent after me at another time. I took leave of Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 C with some regret, and Miss Emily and the servants; but. the 
 
 strong desire to see other lands made me feel less sorry than I might 
 otherwise have felt. Besides, I looked uj) to Captain Sturt with a con- 
 fiding veneration and admiration; with a feeling of security under his 
 guardianship. 
 
 I accompanied Captain and Mrs. Sturt to Sydney. I spent one Sun- 
 day in the city. I called upon the Baptist minister, Mr. Saunders, with 
 my church-letter from Scotland. I sat down with the church that diy. 
 Mr. Saunders told me there was a young gentleman going to Adelaide 
 
 in the schooner, John Pirie, that I Avas going in. Mr. S was a 
 
 member of the church, a decidedly Christian young gentleman, and he 
 would be company for me going on the voyage. I was pleased at this 
 
 intelligence. Mr. Saunders introduced Mr. S to me, and also 
 
 gave me a letter of introduction to Mr. David McLaren, Manager of
 
 102 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the South Australian Company, and also a preacher of the Baptist 
 Church. Miss King, who had chaperoned me at the Cape of Good 
 Hope, was living with her brother on the outskirts of the city, and invited 
 me- to spend a day or two with her ere I left Sydney. She invited a 
 few of her friends to meet me, and say good-by. My cousin Tom and 
 Neptune were among the number. I was glad to see them, though I 
 parted with my cousin that night never to meet again. Good, kind 
 cousin Tom, and our mutual friend, Neptune, I will ever hold in grate- 
 ful remembrance. 
 
 I remained all night with Miss King, but could tarry no longer, as 
 we expected to go on board ship that night and sail early next morning. 
 
 When I reached the mansion of Mr. M , where Captain Sturt and 
 
 family were staying till we sailed, I saw a carriage at the door, with 
 Mrs. Sturt, the children and nurse already packed in, with several 
 packages beside them. I stopped to speak to them a moment ere I 
 went into the house, but Mrs. Sturt called out : 
 
 "Jump in, quick! the ship is about to sail; we have not a moment 
 to lose. Quick! be quick!" 
 
 "My trunks!" 
 
 "Oh, they can be sent to you by the next ship." 
 
 Here was a dilemma: either to stay with my trunks, or go on a voy- 
 age of unknown length, to an unknown country, without any clothes 
 but what I had on. I did not take long to decide. 
 
 "Wait one minute!" I said. 
 
 I ran upstairs, took from my trunk a change of linen, wrapped it in 
 a piece of paper, jumped into the carriage and was driven to the 
 wharf as quickly as four high-bred horses could take us. Captain 
 Sturt came dashing down on horseback at the same time. He had 
 been on the search for me. The vessel had been towed out into the 
 middle of the harbor and was now weighing anchor. All the luggage 
 was on board except mine, and mine they feared to take lest they 
 could not find me, and they did not like taking my trunks away from 
 me; but they did not hesitate to take me away from my trunks.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 We took boats, and reached the schooner yi;/;;/ Pirie just as her sails 
 were spread to the freshening breeze. I did not regret leaving New 
 South Wales, the crime-stained land. My three months sojourn in it 
 filled me with doubts and fears as to my future. I trusted in God, but 
 my way was obscure till He opened a new way for me, and I walked 
 in it. A happy confidence was taking place of my doubts. I was able 
 to cast my anxieties at the foot of the cross of my dear Savior. 
 
 As I sat on the little poop deck, reflecting upon my sudden depart- 
 ure from Sydney, and my meager wardrobe, I smiled at the figure I 
 would make in the land of strangers, in the one dress I had worn 
 through the voyage. I had no regrets, however. I felt that if I were 
 clothed in the righteousness of Christ, my dress would be all glorious. 
 
 As we neared the heads or sea-gate, the waters of the Pacific were 
 rushing into the harbor, and our little ship began to tumble about most 
 uncomfortably. When we rolled out on to the bosom of the great deep, 
 I grew deathly sea-sick, and was so ill, I cared for nothing. All were 
 sick below. Iwas unable to go to my cabin, and so lay down, and 
 slept from exhaustion, on the poop deck. When I awoke, I was warm 
 
 and comfortable, and Mr. H. H sitting at my feet to prevent my 
 
 being pitched into the sea. He told Captain Sturt, when he was 
 looking for me, to allow me to have my sleep out; it would make me 
 well, and he would watch by me while I slept. He covered me with 
 a monkey jacket, and kept guard. Such kindnesses as these fall upon 
 my heart like rays of sunshine. He helped me down to the saloon, but 
 all were in their rooms sick. I went into mine. We had fine weather 
 for a few days, and we all soon recovered from our indisposition. 
 
 After dinner. Captain and Mrs. Sturt, the shipmaster and Mr. C 
 
 would have wine and cards, and sit over these till late in the evening. 
 
 Captain H , Mr. S , and Mr. T , and Mr. R , and 
 
 myself would go upon deck, wrap up well, and I would sit up in the 
 midst of these, and listen with pleased attention to the various stories 
 each had to tell, especially Captain H. H ; he had traveled most,
 
 104 , THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and had more to tell, and, of course, was very entertaining. We spent 
 a few evenings in this way most delightfully under the starlit sky, with 
 music as a variation. These young gentlemen were all as kind and 
 attentive as brothers, and gentle as sisters to me. 
 
 The storm spirit was asleep, and we thought not of danger. Bass 
 Strait is a favorite resort for the spirit of the storm, but he must have 
 been exercising his power elsewhere. One calm, still evening he burst 
 upon us very suddenly. He was jealous of our quiet ways, and broke 
 ihem up very unceremoniously, and without premonition. The night 
 was calm and still, and our little ship was sailing along on her course 
 under a cloudless sky. Everything was still, and we could hear the 
 gurgling of the water and the sound of the sea, as we steered through 
 it. There was the one-inch plank between me and eternity. Every 
 time I heard the gurgling sound at my ear, I thought the grim king 
 was seeking an entrance and a victim. But I felt that Christ had con- 
 quered him, and had led him captive. I feared him not; I was Christ's, 
 and Christ was mine. I committed myself to his care, and laid me 
 down and slept. All were asleep. About midnight we were suddenly 
 aroused by a tremendous shock, that threw strong, heavy, athletic men 
 from their state-room berths to the cabin floor stunned, confused and 
 amazed. The poor, little ship was shuddering throughout her whole 
 frame, like a living creature in the agonies of death. Our cabin doors 
 flew open, though fastened with bolts, and v/ater rushed in upon us 
 from every part; we were nearly strangled and blinded by it. A most 
 fearful cry arose, which resounded from stem to stern. "The ship has 
 struck a sunken rock!" " We are sinking ! " " O God, have mercy 
 upon us; save us!" were words heard from lips unused to pray. All 
 was consternation and confusion. The master of this richly and heav- 
 ily laden litde ship, in this hour of peril, was lying helplessly drunk on 
 the saloon sofa; but when the crash came, he was pitched off on the 
 floor, and had only gained a sitting posuire, when we, the half-drowned 
 ones, who were tumbling from our berths so unceremoniously, were 
 picking ourselves up to collect our scattered senses. Captain H. 
 
 H 's voice was heard in quick, anxious, peremptory orders, and 
 
 the crew were prompt in their eager and terrified "aye, aye, sir." 
 Our little ship was tossed about in a terrible manner. As the storm 
 
 grew louder, and the waves rolled dark and high. Captain H came 
 
 down, called loudly for Captain M to come on deck and look after 
 
 the ship, or we would all inevitably perish. The surly, drunken old 
 fellow growled out some oaths at being disturbed, and staggered up to
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA^ I05 
 
 the deck. In the midst of the confusion, I crept to the far end of the 
 table, climbed on a locker, and sat and viewed, in the midst of extreme 
 peril, a scene that was very gloomy, but had a dash of the ludicrous 
 in it. I was sitting high up, my naked feet dangling down, holding to 
 a rope to keep myself from swaying about too much. The drunk Cap- 
 tain sat on the corner of the sofa "nid nodding," and at the other cor- 
 ner of the sofa sat Captain Sturt, trying to quiet his wife's hysterical 
 cries. She was clinging to him, and calling to him to save her, while 
 one of her little boys was clinging to her and crying, but she took no 
 notice of him. The nurse, with the other in her lap, was sitting on the 
 floor groaning and swaying back and forth, and holding to the leg 
 of the table. One tall, swarthy figure, enshrouded in a long white 
 robe, and a red night-cap on his head, from under which hung what 
 looked like black strings (hair dripping wet), stood in a doorway with 
 arms stretched wide holding to the side posts. Another crouched in a 
 corner, burying his face in his hands, his streaming hair hanging over 
 them. Another, with his hands behind him, leaned his back against 
 the wall. Another lay across the table. The one dimly burning lamp 
 hung over this spectral group. Rembrandt's Court of Death did not 
 
 look more gloomy. When Captain H came down for Captain 
 
 M , he said we had all better get into our cabins. The water was 
 
 dashing down through the companion way into the saloon, and every- 
 thing and everybody were saturated. I thought we were in the way 
 where we were, and I was the first to get out of it. We were all shiver- 
 ing, wet and cold where we were, and all had to go into well-saturated 
 beds. Groans and lamentations were heard everywhere, and the cries 
 of the people in the second cabin were loud and prolonged. We had 
 a door that opened from ouf cabin into it, and the wringing of hands 
 and tearing of hair of the women were not pleasant sounds or sights 
 for officers or crew. 
 
 "AVhy," I said, "can not people be quiet in a storm? If they are in 
 danger, by being quiet they are the more likely to embrace an oppor- 
 tunity to save themselves, than if they scream and cry, and make dis- 
 agreeable noises." 
 
 The sailors, officers and masters of vessels get confused in tlicir du- 
 ties, when cries and screams assail them on every side. Everything 
 depends on the cool heads and willing hands of master and crew in 
 times of peril, and those who can be of no use had better far be out of 
 
 the way and keep quiet. Captain M had not a cool head, nor were 
 
 there willing hands to carry out his orders. Though we had not struck
 
 I06 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 6n a sunken rock, we were in momentary danger of doing so. The 
 drunken captain was yelling out his commands with oaths to his men, 
 when Captain H ■ sprang to the helm with lightning speed, counter- 
 manded the orders of the stupid man, turned the ship's head away from 
 
 the dangerous rocks, on which she was swifdy plunging. Captain M 
 
 was furious; he raved and swore at Captain H , and contradicted 
 
 the orders, but no one heeded him. The sailors knew that he who 
 was at the helm could guide the ship, and they obeyed him. 
 
 When Mrs. Sturt lay down, she remarked that I was very quiet. 
 
 "Are you afraid?" she asked. 
 
 "Oh, no," I said, "I have no fear; God is in the storm, and can 
 take care of us, and Captain H is at the helm, and if it is in hu- 
 man power to save us, we shall be saved." 
 
 "You do not know the danger we are in, or you would not be so 
 quiet and talk so. We may yet be lost," she answered. 
 
 I said, "I know our danger quite well, but have no anxiety. I have 
 
 faith in God, and confidence in Captain H . He is a good, sober, 
 
 young gentleman, and a good sailor." My confidence in Captain 
 
 H was not misplaced. I was perfectly calm; I confided in my 
 
 heavenly Father's protecting care. Had I felt his arm about me, I could 
 not have felt more safe. Our little ship did not strike a sunken rock, 
 as I have said, though she was among them. A white squall had over- 
 taken, and a tremendous sea broke over her, which tore away her bul- 
 warks, and swept every movable thing from the deck. Our sails were 
 rent to ribbons, and much other damage was done, so that we were in 
 danger of going down if we could not find a place of shelter soon. 
 The charts were consulted, and our nearest port of safety was Preser- 
 vation Bay. There we could find shelter till the storm abated, and we 
 could repair damages sufiiciently to prosecute our voyage. Captain 
 
 M , about half sober, was belching forth his orders still, and had 
 
 they been obeyed, we should have been carried right into the jaws of 
 
 death. Captain H expostulated with the master, but all to no 
 
 purpose. The ship, the precious souls on board, and the valuable 
 
 cargo must be saved if possible, and Captain H , backed up by 
 
 Captain Sturt, kept the command. 
 
 When the great ocean is disturbed it forms surface waves, which 
 sometimes are of great magnitude. Such waves have been measured, 
 and it is found that the extreme height from the top to the lowest depth 
 of the depression has been nearly fifty feet, their length being from 
 400 to 600 yards, and tlieir rate of motion half a mile a minute.
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. IO7 
 
 When a storm rises, and such waves break over a ship's side, it often 
 happens that everything, bulwarks and boats and men, is swept with 
 resistless force into the yawning waters. It was one of these storm- 
 waves which struck and broke over us, and caused the crashing sound 
 and shaking of the ship. 
 
 Next day, when I went on deck, I hardly knew our trim little vessel. 
 She reminded me of a bird without wings trying to fly, and able only to 
 waddle. She was waddling or wallowing through the water at a poor, 
 
 crippled rate. I asked Captain H if he thought we could reach a 
 
 place of safety soon. He said he hoped so, but told me not to be 
 afraid. I told him I had no fear as long as he had charge of the vessel. 
 He navigated our little ship safely into a large bay, land-locked, or 
 nearly so, without damage to life or limb of any on board. How thank- 
 ful we all were to Captain H for the timely and prompt measures 
 
 tliat he took to save us. We all acknowledged our indebtedness, under 
 the providence of God, to him for saving our lives. But Captain 
 
 M swore that he would have Captain H tried, when we reached 
 
 Adelaide, for mutiny on the high seas. This was a fearful charge, mu- 
 tiny being a capital crime. Captain M reckoned without the Hon. 
 
 Charles Sturt & Co. The said Captain Sturt wrote out a document, 
 and had it signed, stating, "That the schooner John Firie, a large 
 number of passengers, her crew, and a valuable freight, were brought 
 into imminent peril through the neglect and drunkenness of the master, 
 
 Mr^ M , Nothing could have saved us from total shipwreck and 
 
 loss, but the watchful care and prompt measures of the youthful Cap- 
 
 t^iji H , at a time when Captain M was utterly unfit to take 
 
 care of himself, much less the ship and its precious human freight. We 
 owe the saving of our lives and all we had on board, under God, to 
 
 the instrumentality of Captain H ." Captain Sturt showed this 
 
 paper to Captain M , and said : 
 
 "If you put your threat into execution, I shall have this paper signed 
 by all on board, and, perhaps, when it is handed into court at the trial, 
 the tables will be turned." 
 
 Captain M was extremely angry, but said no more about a trial 
 
 for mutiny. He said afterward that he was only in sport when he 
 
 threatened Captain H . But the document had a wonderful power 
 
 to check his sportive moods, which would crop out every now and then 
 
 in dark looks and mutterings, when near Captain H , who was ever 
 
 pleasant, ever cheerful, conscious of having done his duty to God and 
 man in an hour of extremity, when tliere was no time to think, only
 
 I08 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 time to act. I look back through all the years since that memorable 
 
 night, and thank Captain H for his intrepidity ; but he has long 
 
 ago gone to his reward. Those who had a part in that midnight tab- 
 leau, in the darkened saloon, on board the John Firie, have all gone 
 
 but three: Mrs. Sturt, who is in England; Mr. S , my Baptist 
 
 brother, who is in South Australia, and myself, now in America. 
 
 We anchored in Preservation Bay, which is of considerable size. A 
 range of high hills of a horse-shoe shape constitute the island, bleak, bar- 
 ren and desolate. In this bay lies an island of smaller dimensions, which 
 is named Preservation Island, from the fact that seven runaway con- 
 victs were picked up here by Mr. Bass, in a most deplorable condition 
 for want of food. They had been left by their companions to perish, 
 but were discovered and taken to the mainland. As the whale boat, 
 in which Mr. Bass was exploring, was too small to give all the men a 
 passage to Sydney, he could only take two back with him; the others 
 he put on the mainland, whence they could reach Sydney. The young, 
 enterprising navigator discovered Bass Strait on this voyage. In the 
 year 1798, he left Sydney in a small boat with six men and six weeks' 
 provisions; discovered Bass Strait, rescued seven men from starvation, 
 took two extra men in his boat, and returned in twelve weeks; but he 
 had to live on seals, fish, etc. The same year Lieutenant Flinders vis- 
 ited this island, and says: 
 
 "Some of the trees on Preservation Island had partly undergone a 
 peculiar transformation. The largest of them was not thicker than a 
 man's leg, ajid the whole were decayed; but while the upper branches 
 continued to be wood, the roots, at the surface, and the trunks, up to a 
 certain point, were of a strong substance resembling chalk. On break- 
 ing these chalky trunks, which was easily done, a ring of brown wood 
 sometimes appeared in them, as if imperfectly transformed, but in the 
 greater number nothing more than circular traces remained. The 
 situation in which these trees were principally found is a sandy valley, 
 near the middle of the island, which was remarkable, also, for the 
 quantity of bones of birds and small quadrupeds with which it was 
 strewed." 
 
 It was Mr. Bass's opinion that these petrefactions had been caused 
 by water. 
 
 A few of our passengers went ashore the morning after we an- 
 chored. I was delighted to be able to go in the first boat; oth- 
 ers were to follow. Captain Sturt' s house steward, who was in 
 the second cabin, was to accompany me, but as soon as we landed
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. I09 
 
 I released the old man from dancing attendance upon me, and 
 I -went on an exploring expedition on my own account. I examined 
 the rocky caves along the beach, and gathered shells of rare beauty. 
 When tired of this, I clambered up a high hill to have a better view 
 of the island. I thought it was uninhabited, but from my point of 
 observation I saw curling smoke rising from a hut in the distance. I 
 also saw a field of grain fenced in, and various indications of human- 
 ity and life, so I came to a halt in my explorations till other explorers 
 arrived. I sat down upon a rock on the side of the hill next the bay 
 to read, when I saw a boat lowered from the ship, and people clam- 
 bering down into it. I watched its progress shoreward, and when it 
 touched, I bounded down the declivity to meet Captain and Mrs. 
 
 Sturt, Mr. S , Captain H , and several others. I told them 
 
 that I had made a discovery, viz., that the island was inhabited, and 
 
 I did not know it when I landed. Captain H took my hand and 
 
 said : 
 
 '•I know the inhabitants; come, let me introduce you to the gov- 
 ernor, or, as you may call him, Robinson Crusoe the second, as you 
 are somewhat romantic." 
 
 We walked some distance, then entered a rudely built hut; but the 
 interior was neatly arranged. Here an old man, John Monroe, an 
 old sailor, had been cast away on these shores, and had lived upon 
 the island twenty-one years, nine of these entirely alone; but he told 
 me that he got his black Princess Margery from New Guinea, married 
 her, and brought her to the island to live, and they had been very 
 happy together. They had one daughter, a very bright, intelligent 
 girl, who could read and write, and was a good arithmetician. She 
 was very good-looking, with a ruddy brown skin. They had three or 
 four little boys. A bookshelf was well filled with books, and a Bible 
 on the table, well worn. Governor Monroe educated his children 
 himself, and, under the circumstances, they did him credit. The 
 governor had quite a little farm and garden ; he had kids, and pigs, 
 and poultry running all over the island. Ships like our own have 
 often been driven into this bay through stress of weather, and in 
 exchange for his pigs or kids, or other produce, he takes sugar, tea, 
 seeds and clothing. But visitors are few and far between; for the 
 island is but litde known, and is out of the route of sea-going vessels. 
 
 We found a strange bird on this island, where it has its habitat. It 
 burrows in the earth like a rabbit; then lays, one or two enormous 
 eggs, and hatches and brings up its young in the burrow. It is called
 
 no THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the Sooty Petrel, better known out at sea as the Sheerwater. Gov- 
 ernor Munroe called it the "Mutton Bird." In the evening great 
 flocks of these birds came in from the sea, having their stomachs filled 
 with a gelatinous substance, gathered from the waves, and this they 
 eject into the throats of their young, or retain it for their own nutri- 
 ment. The mutton bird oil, or Sooty Petrel oil, is of a deep red 
 color, obtained by pressure from the stomach of the young bird. It 
 is said to possess a healing virtue in rheumatism, and it burns with a 
 clear bright light. The feathers of this bird are used for pillows, beds, 
 cushions, and various other purposes. The profusion of feathers with 
 which they are clothed enables one to find the greatest quantity in a 
 very short time. The flesh is considered quite a dainty. They are 
 about the size of a pigeon, and when skinned and dried in smoke are 
 good eating. For my own taste they are too fishy. They are easily 
 
 caught. I saw Captain H thrust his arm up to the shoulder into 
 
 their burrows and catch several. At the same time he ran a great 
 risk of catching a snake, or being grasped by one at the bottom of the 
 holes, as these venomous reptiles are numerous on the island, and 
 they feed upon the birds. 
 
 The island is covered with tall, tufted grass, which is not cul- 
 tivated, but grows Avild. The island rises into a rounded top in 
 the middle like a hemisphere, with the flat side in the water 
 and the convex in the air. On top of this convex is a rookery 
 right in the center of the island. The boulders of which it is com- 
 posed are of immense size. They are piled up, heap on heap, and 
 balanced on each other. They look as if a brood of Titan child- 
 ren had been at play in these regions and were frightened away in the 
 midst of their employment, and ran off and left their toys. 
 
 Between the rookery and the beach I saw a lone grave with a fence 
 round it. On inquiry, I found it to be that of a black woman who 
 had been bitten by a snake, and died in four hours after. This hap- 
 pened but a short time before our visit. On the island was one other 
 man and his black wife. They had been here about two years with- 
 out family. We had a pleasant day rambling round the island and 
 seeing the sights. At night we saw from the ship a most brilliant 
 spectacle on shore. The snakes were getting too numerous, and they 
 had to be burned out. The tall, tufted grass was set on fire, and with 
 speed it flew across the island from sea to sea, and as the island rose 
 in the middle and declined on either side, the flames formed an arch 
 of fire, which was a glorious sight, blazing in front of the dark back-
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. Ill 
 
 ground of distant hills which surrounded the bay. The sky reflected 
 the deepest crimson, and gave ship and sea, and all on board, a rosy 
 hue. Our little ship was being put to rights as rapidly as possible, 
 but the storm spirit was still abroad on the face of the waters, and 
 drove another ship into harbor. It was The Tanior, from Tasmania, 
 with Lady Franklin on board, going to Sydney to join her husband, 
 Sir John, on their way to England. Before Sir John Franklin went 
 to explore the Arctic regions, he had been Governor of Tasmania, and 
 tliey were now on their way home to England. The Tamor was not 
 so dilapidated as our unfortunate vessel, so they sailed out before us. 
 We had to remain two weeks at anchor, but having good company, I 
 was very happy. We went on shore every day and hunted for kids, 
 and birds, and shells, and had a pleasant time generally. In the very 
 exuberance of life, I ran, and skipped, and jumped. One day I asked 
 the nurse to go with me to the other side of the rookery where no one 
 would see us and run a race with me. She consented, and up we 
 went and poised ourselves on top of one of the boulders at the lower 
 side of the rookery. One, two, three, and away I sped with the 
 speed of an arrow, off the rock, down the hill, on and on, faster and 
 faster, till I reached level ground. There I was stopped suddenly by 
 a strong hand taking a firm grip of my shoulder. I looked around 
 
 and found that Captain H had hold of me, and the nurse was 
 
 away back at the rookery. I looked up to my captor for an explana- 
 tion. He told me just as the nurse and myself were preparing to 
 start, several gentlemen came up the side of the rookery and saw us, 
 and also saw a huge black snake, a most deadly reptile, wriggling toward 
 us. I was nearer to it than the nurse, and as the ugly creature darted 
 at me, I gave the first bound off the boulder, and over the snake, and 
 away past, without seeing it. The nurse saw it, screamed, and held 
 
 back. Captain Sturt asked Captain H to follow me and bring me 
 
 back. I knew nothing of my danger, and so could not realize my 
 narrow escape. This trifling occurrence was talked of as quite an 
 adventure. 
 
 One evening I was being left on the island all night, at least I 
 thought I was. All the passengers had gone, and I got to the shore 
 in time to see the last boat at a distance from the shore, I called, but 
 they did not heed the call. I was greatly troubled I was getting afraid 
 — for the sun was fast approaching the western horizon. I saw the 
 boat after discharging her freight row back toward the shore. I could 
 almost have cried for joy when Captain H sprang ashore and
 
 112 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 helped me into the boat. Oh, I was so thankful. Captain H 
 
 had seen me on the beach waving for the boat to come back — he was 
 on board the ship — and as soon as all who were in the boat were on 
 board, he came for me. On my way to the ship I saw sharks of enor- 
 mous size — white sharks, basking sharks, and sharks of every name — 
 in immense nvmibers. For such huge fishes they are graceful and 
 rapid swimmers. Their long, flexible, cartilaginous bodies are capable 
 of every kind of swift motion. Our sailors caught one of these mon- 
 sters one day with a side of bacon. The creature swallowed the bacon, 
 harpoon and all, and was drawn up by pulleys. When stretched at 
 full length upon the deck, he was found to be thirty feet long; a horrid, 
 
 voracious monster. Captain H took an ax and chopped off his 
 
 tail and his head. Then he took a sheath-knife and cut his vertebral 
 column out of his body, first cutting down one side and then the other. 
 Then he skinned him and threw his carcass overboard to his brothers, 
 who devoured him in a very short time. In the jaws were six rows of 
 large, strong teeth, pointed like saw-teeth. When the jaws were 
 cleaned a man put them over his head like a hoop, and nowhere did 
 his great broad shoulders touch the jaws. Mr. Shark could easily have 
 swallowed him whole without making two bites of him. The white 
 shark [Squalus canharius), which attains twenty-five to thirty feet in 
 length, is celebrated for its ferocity. Its vast mouth is furnished with 
 triangular movable teeth. The number increases with age. 
 
 Governor Monroe gave me a great number of beautiful shells, be- 
 sides those I had gathered myself. Princess Margery gave me a string 
 of amber beads for a keepsake, and we parted on excellent terms. 
 We sailed away with light hearts and light winds from this romantic 
 isle of the sea, which lies between Tasmania and the southern point 
 of Australia, at the entrance of Bass Strait. 
 
 The remainder of our voyage was pleasant and without mishap. It 
 may be interesting to know that the vessel we sailed in was the prop- 
 erty of the South Australian Company, of which company David 
 McLaren, Esq. , was manager, to whom I had letters of introduction. 
 Soon after our arrival at Port Adelaide the little ship changed hands. 
 Captain H became the master. 
 
 A few months after our arrival I was in company with several ship- 
 masters, and I was telling them of the remote and romantic, and also 
 historic, island. One of these sea-going captains who had been to 
 China stoutly denied the existence of Preservation Island, and to show 
 the others present that no such island was known to navigators, he
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. II3 
 
 spread out a chart as old as Dick Hartog and pointed with triumph to 
 a blank space on its face. I was asked if I saw it on the map ? 
 
 "No; I do not see it, because it is not there; but I saw it and trod 
 on it at the entrance of Bass Strait from the Pacific. It was not dis- 
 covered in the same year that the strait was. Mr. Bass in 1798 picked 
 up starving men from the island, carried them across the strait, and 
 put them on the main-land, and took two to Sydney with him. 
 Preservation Island is where I say, and if fifty charts were spread 
 out before me, and it was not represented on any of them, I would 
 still say it is there, because I had the witness of my own senses, besides 
 other witnesses of importance." 
 
 I thought I should not like to be in a ship in a storm if this ignorant 
 master was in command. I have met with many such men who 
 doubt everything that comes not within the scope of their own expe- 
 rience. 
 
 South Australia lies between West Australia on the west, and Vic- 
 toria on the east; and it extends to the i4ist° east and to i32d° west 
 longitude; and on the south to the Southern Ocean. This colony is 
 penetrated by two large gulfs on the south — Spencer's and St. Vincent's 
 gulfs. The former is fifty-five miles wide at its mouth, and widens in 
 some places to 100 miles. It is about 230 miles long. The latter is 
 130 miles long, and forty miles wide at its mouth. 
 
 The city of Adelaide is for the most part on two hills of limestone, 
 the rest on fine clay on the eastern side of the Gulf of St. Vincent, 
 about seven miles from the sea, and about the same distance from a 
 beautiful range of hills that make a splendid background to the pic- 
 ture. Mount Lofty is the highest point in the range. It lifts its lofty 
 head 2,400 feet above the sea level. Adelaide is divided into two 
 unequal parts by the river Torreus (called by the natives Yatula). In 
 summer it is but a succession of deep pools, linked together by a nar- 
 row, shallow stream; but in the winter it is a torrent, sweeping down 
 from the hills where it rises, to a swamp near the gulf, where it loses 
 itself. The sand-hills, and the reflected light and heat from the sun, 
 were very disagreeable to us as we landed, but the excitement of pre- 
 paring for a drive of seven miles kept us too busy to think much of 
 things disagreeable. The road to Adelaide is over a plain of great 
 beauty, covered with grass, with trees here and there ; but the hills, the 
 beautiful hills, with their dappled sides, were the principle charm. 
 When we reached Adelaide, we found that the house that had been pre- 
 8
 
 J 14 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 pared for our reception had burned to the ground just before our land- 
 ing; so we had no house to go to. Government House would have 
 opened its doors to receive us, but it was only a little hut, constructed 
 of mud put between laths, supported by uprights of native wood, and 
 covered with thatch. It contained three rooms— a dining-room, a 
 reception-room, and a pantry. In the plan of this house fireplaces 
 were left out, or forgotten, for not a single fireplace was in the house. 
 A chimney and fireplace had to be added close to the front. But we 
 must not forget that the architect was a sailor, who thought he could 
 rig up a house as well as a topmast, and would have no interference 
 with his work. Governor Gawlor and lady slept in a tent. As Gov- 
 ernment House could not take us in, we had to pitch our tents else- 
 where. But as a real frame-house had been built and burned for us, 
 we had provided no tents, and we were indebted to the Hon. G. M. 
 
 S , a bachelor, for vacating his dwelling to give us shelter for the 
 
 time being, and we were all packed away very snugly. 
 
 Next day being Sunday, I proposed going to church. This pro- 
 posal was vetoed by those in authority. I persisted, and said I must 
 go. Be it remembered I had but the one dress in which I left Sydney 
 more than a month before, and it was faded by the sea air, and a good 
 deal worse for wear; my boots and bonnet were in keeping. On 
 leaving the church a tall, beautiful and elegantly dressed lady put her 
 hand gently upon my shoulder and said : 
 
 "You are a stranger here." 
 
 I looked up into her sweet, smiling face, and said: 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She asked me where I came from ? 
 
 "Sydney," I answered. 
 
 Just then I saw Mr. S , my fellow voyager, coming toward us, 
 
 with Mr. McLaren, to whom I was introduced as having come recently 
 from Scotland. The greeting was all that a sensitive heart could wish; 
 it was cordial and fatherly. 
 
 The sweet voice that first greeted me asked me to go home with her 
 
 to dinner. Mr. McLaren and Mr. S also. I then thought of my 
 
 singular appearance, and modestly said : 
 
 "I can not go. I have no fitting dress on." 
 
 She smiled one of her sweet smiles. 
 
 "You are not ashamed to come to church as you are, and you need 
 not be to dine Avith me," she said. 
 
 I told her I had no other garments here than what I had on. I had
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 1 1 5 
 
 left all of my trunks in Sydney, but I could not stay away from church 
 on account of a shabby dress. 
 
 "Neither need you stay from my dinner-table. Come," she said. 
 
 And I went. 
 
 She was no respecter of persons, and I loved her then and always. 
 She and her husband were both young, handsome and rich, and both 
 members of the Baptist Church ; and they were my friends as long as 
 they remained in the colony. I found in Mr. McLaren a true friend. 
 He said he would be a father to me as long as he was in the colony. 
 
 "Whatever troubles you, come to me, I will give you counsel and 
 help." 
 
 Here I found a father, a sister and brothers in the church, given to 
 me, as Christ had promised to give to those who had forsaken father, 
 mother, sisters or brothers in this life for him. 
 
 The South Australian Company was a great commercial company 
 formed in England, with George Fife Angas for Chairman. It liad a 
 capital of ;^5oo,ooo sterling. It had sheep and cattle stations, farms, 
 banks and other industries. Mr. McLaren managed all the colonial 
 affairs of the company. As a business man he was apt. He was 
 spoken of as "manly in his decisions, urbane in his manners, and all 
 united to a glowing piety. He was one of the best and most enlight- 
 ened defenders of South Australia. He did honor to his country and 
 to his Christianity, also to the company whose interests he represented 
 in the colony." 
 
 As I have said, no convicts have landed or shall ever land on the 
 shores of South Australia. The colonists might make tliemselves rich 
 rapidly by having cheap convict labor, but they are willing to forego 
 this privilege to keep their children free from the contamination cf 
 such characters. 
 
 Adelaide is laid out on a grand scale — wide streets running at right 
 angles, some 130 feet wide, some 100, and the narrowest sixty feet 
 wide. There are reserved in the center a space for a square, and 
 spaces for squares not so large in other parts of the city. The city 
 has terraces north, south, east and west; also, all round the city a belt 
 of woodland 500 yards wide, forming a beautiful drive of about seven 
 miles, with splendid views of the clear and open sea on one side. 
 This ground plan, though grand, has yet to be filled up, not with trees 
 as at present, but with houses, to show us where the streets are to be. 
 As it is, we have to walk through a dense forest, from one terrace to 
 another, with here and there a frame or mud cottage as a landmark.
 
 Il6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The people live chiefly in tents, or under tarpaulins stretched on poles. 
 Some have frame cots covered with cloth, these frames having been 
 made in England and brought out by their owners, and fastened to- 
 gether and covered with cloth. They rest upon wheels, and can be 
 moved easily from place to place. Others have huts built of mud and 
 grass, others of rushes and brushwood. 
 
 This country is antipodal to Scotland, consequently when it is sum- 
 mer here it is winter in Great Britain, and vice versa. December, 
 January and February are the hot, dry summer months. June, July 
 and August are our rainy winter season. They say this country has 
 a fine, healthy climate. As I have not been one year from Scotland, 
 I am not able to say much about it, only at times I feel the heat almost 
 intolerable. So I wrote to friends forty years ago about the new city. 
 Great and mighty changes have been wrought since then. 
 
 Captain Sturt, in the year 1831, discovered the Murray River, and 
 that it drained the western parts of Queensland and New South Wales, 
 and the rivers flowing west did not empty into an inland sea, as former 
 explorers thought, but into the Murray, which bore him and his party 
 on its tranquil bosom to the Lake Alexandrina, and on through it to 
 the Southern Ocean at Encounter Bay. The land, lying between the 
 river Murray and the Gulf of St. Vincent, was described by him as 
 being very suitable for founding a province. He strongly recommended 
 this measure, as the country looked rich and fertile. He was unable, 
 through exhausted strength, to examine it carefully, and, therefore, 
 thought that the fruits of his great labor were to be lost to him, when 
 he was about to grasp them. But he was mistaken in this. The course 
 of events has abundantly shown that man is often shortsighted. In six 
 short years from the time Captain Sturt sailed down the Murray River 
 to the sea, a province had been planted on the very soil he had recom- 
 mended, without hope of ever seeing it. A great company was formed 
 in England, and sent out their Colonial Manager and emigrants in their 
 ship Duke of York. The ship landed, and the manager was the first to 
 set foot in the new Province of South Australia, 27th of July, 1836. 
 The company's barque, Lady Mary Felham, arrived on the 30th of July, 
 and their ship, John Firie, in August, and their ship. Cygnet, with pro- 
 visions and stores, on the nth of September. So the first three ships 
 that arrived were the company's, and they were followed five months 
 later by the Buffalo, with the Governor. Meantime, those who had 
 landed first had no Government, no law whatever; nevertheless, they 
 were not lawless. His Majesty's Ship Buffalo arrived at Holdfast Bay,
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 1 1 7 
 
 December 28, 1836, and on the same day His Excellency landed, es- 
 corted by a company of marines, accompanied by other officials v.ith 
 their families. They were received by the gentlemen who had arrived 
 before them, and who had pitched their tents on the unknown wilds of 
 South Australia. "His Excellency met the other members of Council 
 in a tent of the Colonial Secretary. The orders in Council, erecting 
 South Australia into a British Province, and appointing the colonial 
 officers, were read, as also Captain Hindmarsh's commission as Gov- 
 ernor and Commander-in-chief. The customary oaths were taken by 
 the Governor, members of Council and other officers. The Commis- 
 sioners afterward read the orders to the settlers, of whom about three 
 hundred were present; the British flag was unfurled under a royal sa- 
 lute; a cold collation was eaten in the open air; His Majesty's health 
 drunk; the national anthem sung, and the circumstances under which 
 it was sung had more grandeur in its simplicity, than those who have 
 heard it in other circumstances could conceive." And thus a province 
 was born. 
 
 The colony was a little over three years old when we arrived. 
 Colonel Light, the first Surveyor General, was dead, and a monument 
 had been raised to his memory in Light's Square. Captain Sturt, the 
 discoverer of the Murray River, and its embouchure in the beautiful 
 lake he named for Princess Victoria Alexandrina, now our Queen, had 
 come to succeed Colonel Light, as Surveyor General. "Ships, from 
 England, and the other colonies, with ready made houses, bedsteads 
 made of iron, and tents and stores of every kind, and people of every 
 grade and trade, are arriving here. I think this will be a great country 
 by and by." Thus I wrote. Governor Gawlor succeeded Governor 
 Hindmarsh, who had been recalled. 
 
 The gendemen, as well as the ladies, dressed in white, which I have 
 always thought suitable for a hot climate, and though it looked strange 
 to me at first, I admired it. 
 
 The captain gave a bachelor's party to his friends sometimes, when 
 they enjoyed themselves much. On one occasion he gave a party, 
 and Judge Cooper, a fine old English gentlemen, a bachelor, was there, 
 and as the hou.se had been enlarged, and a black man (American) had 
 been installed as cook, the parties were very pleasant. It so happened 
 that Judge Cooper rode his sister's pony, and while the gentlemen 
 were enjoying their after-dinner wine, I went out to the yard, mounted 
 Ponto, asked the cook to open the gate for me, and away I scampered, 
 unwitting where I went. Through the woods, and through the woods 
 
 \
 
 Il8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 we ran. The cool evening breeze fanned my cheek and brow, and 
 my hair fluttered in the wind; the bright moon hung like a globe of 
 light out from the clear, blue sky; the tall forest trees were bending 
 and bowing to each other most gracefully, and the light, fleet pace of 
 the pony made my moonlight ride the most enjoyable I had ever had. 
 I was not far from home, when I saw a figure in the moonlight walk- 
 ing leisurely toward the house; he seemed to enjoy his walk, as much 
 as I my ride, under the leafy canopy. I rode away past him, till I 
 thought it time to return home. I turned the pony's head for that pur- 
 pose, and gave the little fellow the reins ; but he seemed long in getting 
 to our starting-place. He brought me up right in front of a house, and 
 when I looked at it, lo! it was Judge Cooper's house, and Ponto, 
 knowing he was at home, began to neigh. I was somewhat alarmed 
 at this, and I could not get Ponto away from the gate. He struggled 
 to get to his stable most energetically; I as stoutly tried to get him 
 away from the gate. I succeeded, but had a long distance to go, and 
 I did not know the way through the forest, and there was no path. I 
 took what I thought was the right direction, and found myself at 
 another house, at another end of the city. I took a fresh start in a 
 straight line for home, and again I found myself astray. I was quite lost; 
 I was afraid I should have to wander about ajl night. I was becoming 
 seriously alarmed, when I came to another fence, which I was afraid to 
 leave, though I did not know it. I hesited what to do, when I heard 
 a gate click, and a man came out. What a joyful surprise, when I saw 
 Conner's black face. I was at home, but did not recognize the sur- 
 roundings, I was so bewildered. 
 
 "Where am I," I asked Conner. He grinned, and said: 
 
 "Why Miss, ye is at home." 
 
 He said for me to make haste, the judge had called for the pony. 
 I dismounted, and went into my own room. I heard the captain's 
 laugh when asking the judge, 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 "I can not find my stirrup, and Ponto is in a bath of perspiration," 
 says the judge. 
 
 "Oh, here is your stirrup," said the captain, laughing, "and there 
 is nothing the matter with Ponto. I think that last wine you drank 
 has taken your head, judge." The judge, very demurely, then said: 
 
 " I shall drink no more of your heady wine," and rode slowly away. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, the captain called for me, and bade me 
 give an account of myself, which I did. I was not afraid of him, he
 
 FROM NEW SOUTH WALES TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. Up 
 
 was always kind and indulgent. He laughed very heartily at my pre-_ 
 dicaments, but advised me to take no more moonlight rides on a gen- 
 tleman's saddle with both stirrups on one side. The gentleman whom 
 I had seen walk toward the house was the Colonial Surgeon, who was 
 going to eat desert with the company. He told them, as soon as he 
 sat down, that he had seen a wood-nymph flying through the forest on 
 a swift-footed animal; she had flowing robes and waving hair, and 
 seemed to enjoy her ride. He was laughed at for his poetic fancy. 
 The judge had called for his pony, as he wished to leave early. The 
 captain went to Conner, and asked for the pony, but the pony could 
 not be found. 
 
 "Then where is Eliza?" queried the captain. 
 
 "She is with the pony," said Conner. 
 
 That was enough. The judge was entertained a little longer; again 
 Ponto was called for, but Ponto had not made his appearance. At 
 last the captain became uneasy about me, and had sent Conner out to 
 
 look for me, and he found me outside the fence quite lost. Dr. N , 
 
 ever after, called me the "wood-nymph," and all the other gentlemen, 
 who were at the party, for the captain told all of them of my exploit in 
 losing myself, teased me a great deal about my moonlight ride on the 
 judge's pony, and they advised, that when I wanted to take a moon- 
 light ride again to let them know, and I might choose an escort. 
 
 I had quite a family of pets. I had a cow, two pretty little pigs, a cat, 
 and a kangaroo rat which the captain caught in the bush and brought 
 home to me. When the cat gave it chase, it would leap upon my 
 shoulder for protection. It was very tame and a great pet, and quite 
 a curiosity. It had the smallest fore feet and legs I had ever seen for 
 the size of the body; the tail and hind legs were large and long, and 
 he did not walk, only hopped and leaped. My pet cow fell down a 
 very deep well one day, and broke her bones; after a great deal of 
 difficulty she was hoisted up, but had to be killed to put her out of 
 pain. My two pet pigs grew too big to be fed out of my hand, and 
 they were sent away to the farm. My pet cat killed my pet rat, so I 
 lost all my pets. I lost the inclination to have pets after that. 
 
 I fainted from the heat one day, the thermometer standing at 140° in 
 the sun. I was a long time unconscious. Mrs. Sturt was very much 
 alarmed for me. The hot winds were dreadful, and the dust smother- 
 ing; the sand-flics were blinding, and the mosepiitoes were savage. 
 Strangers, in a new country, have much to contend with. I pity the 
 poor, who have to fight through every kind of difficulty ere they can
 
 120 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 find comfort. But sober perseverance and sustained effort work wonders. 
 A gentleman, t: member of the Baptist Church, walked home with 
 me one Sunday, and we passed his dwelling, which was a tent. His 
 wife, who was a confirmed invalid, with two children and himself, 
 lived happily under the canvas. I had passed this tent often, when 
 going or coming from church; it was one of my landmarks, but I did 
 not know that a Baptist brother lived there. I was glad to have this 
 good, kind brother's company on the way, he was both guide and pro- 
 tector. Mr. McLaren sometimes walked home with me. It was a 
 long time ere I could find places, and get home without being lost. In 
 
 passing Mrs. B 's tent, I always had a few friendly words with her, 
 
 as she seldom saw or spoke to any one outside of her own family, and 
 the children were always glad to see me.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 
 
 A PARTY was being organized, and preparations being made, to 
 conduct an exploring expedition up the Murray River, and across the 
 country from the great Northwest Bend of the river toward the Gulf 
 of St. Vincent, a portion of the continent not yet explored, but which 
 Captain Sturt noticed in his former trip down the Murray. Governor 
 Gawlor had invited him to conduct this expedition with him, and they 
 thought it would be politic to take their wives with them. Captain 
 Sturt told me that I was to take up my quarters at Government House 
 until they returned. At this arrangement I demurred. 
 
 "What! do you object to going to Government House ?" I was asked. 
 
 "No," I said; "but would much rather go with you." 
 
 "What! go among the savages and be killed and eaten by them? 
 You would be a tempting little morsel for them." 
 
 This was rather startling to be sure; but then I said: 
 
 "Captain Sturt, if you take me I know that you will take care of 
 me, and not let them either kill or eat me. I have faith in your pro- 
 tectmg care, and I have no personal fear." 
 
 "Well said, brave little girl; you shall go, as you are so courageous." 
 
 I heard a conversation between high officials, from which I learned 
 that the policy of taking ladies with them, and bringing all back in 
 safety, would insure a readier sale of land in England. Capitalists 
 would not fear the savages when ladies had traversed the country in 
 safety. Lake and river shores and banks were to be examined to as- 
 certain their capabilities. I told Mr. McLaren and Mr. B that I 
 
 was going on the expedition, but I had a feeling or presentiment that 
 all would not be well with the party. I was not superstitious, but still 
 I wished these two good men to pray for me, that all might be well 
 with my soul, whether I lived or died. Mr. McLaren, who was a Cal- 
 vinistic Baptist, said: 
 
 "Your soul is safe." 
 
 I parted with these two good men feeling confident that they would 
 commend me to God in their prayers. I told Captain Sturt of the 
 
 (121)
 
 122 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Strange presentiment that I had about the party. He said, if I feared 
 anything I had better stay at the Government House. I told him I 
 had no personal fear. So no more was said on that subject. We ■ 
 made our preparations. Mrs. Gawlor preferred sending her daughter 
 on the expedition to going herself, and she remained at home. This 
 arrangement pleased me, for Miss Julia was about my own age, and 
 we would be company for each other. The canteen was filled with 
 every requisite. The common acceptation of the word canteen, is a 
 tin vessel for soldiers to carry liquor in, a kind of flask. Our canteen 
 was a different kind of article. It was a large, square, strong wooden 
 box, with trays and compartments, all filled with tableware, dishes, 
 plates, glasses, knives, forks, spoons, salt and pepper casters, a break- 
 fast set of china, a spirit lamp, cooking apparatus, table-cloths and 
 napkins. In fact, everything that was needed at breakfast, dinner or 
 tea-table, or kitchen, was packed in this wonderful box. It seemed 
 an impossible thing that all the delf that I saw spread out with glass, 
 china, silver, etc. , etc. , could be put into this inclosure, and I watched 
 the packing with deep interest. When one tray after another was 
 filled, and everything neatly placed and shut out of sight, I said, 
 "Truly, this is a more wonderful box than Pandora's." 
 We were all in high glee when we started from Adelaide one beau- 
 tiful morning in November on our expedition. We were all armed 
 and provisioned. In every way our appointments'were perfect. The 
 wagons and bullock drays were loaded with tents, beds, bedding and 
 baggage of every kind suitable for the occasion. These went on be- 
 fore us. The Governor's carriage took His Excellency, Miss Julia, and 
 Captain and Mrs. Sturt in it. The horse's were impatient of delay, 
 and were pawing and prancing, ready and more than willing to start. 
 I was in a light dog-cart, and was driven "tandem" with driver and 
 
 postillion. Captain Inman of the mounted police, and Mr. F • 
 
 another officer of mounted police, and Mr. Bryan, one of the govern- 
 or's aids-de-camp, were my escorts. The governor's carriage was 
 accompanied by his suite on horseback, all fully accoutred. We started 
 off in splendid style, bright and happy. But alas! we did not all 
 come back, nor come back in like manner. 
 
 We had a splendid day, a good road and fine horses ; so we trav- 
 eled on, chatting cheerily. Mr. Bryan was a young Irish gendeman, 
 full of good-natured wit. We were great friends ; he kept me laugh- 
 ing all the time, and the time seemed short on this pleasant first day 
 out. We pitched our tents at Willunga, a litde town in its infancy.
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION, I23 
 
 beautifully situated at the foot of a range of picturesque hills, about 
 thirty miles from Adelaide. Here were encamped a party of sappers 
 and miners. From here we were to start next morning on horseback. 
 The carriage was sent back, it being of no further use. My horse 
 took sick that I was to ride, so I had to ride "tandem" the second 
 day ; but such a ride ! Next morning before the sun appeared in the 
 east, we were ready to resume our journey. We were a pleasant, at 
 least, we were a pleased, party. The morning was fine and we started. 
 Near the Willunga is a conical hill, called Mount Terrible, and over 
 the very summit of this cone we had to go. The equestrians were 
 ahead of me, and when I looked up to them they seemed to be at 
 the head of an almost perpendicular ladder. And this almost perpen- 
 dicular obstacle had to be surmounted. It had been familiarly called 
 Break Neck Hill, on account of the great number of bullocks whose 
 necks had been broken in trying to cross it. My little carriage had 
 to go zigzag, first to the right, and then to the left, but this would 
 have been impossible had the wheels on the lower side of the carriage 
 not been lifted up and carried while the upper ones rolled on the 
 ground. It was a most dangerous, as well as a most difficult ascent, 
 but we reached the top with no broken bones. We had surmounted 
 one great difficulty only to face another greater. Rain began to fall, 
 not in drops, but in sheets; and down the hillside rushed the roaring 
 waters. All on a sudden the sky lowered and darkened, and in the 
 gloom and blinding rain, the descent was far more difficult than the 
 ascent. But we had to go down, down, and the horses slipped and 
 fell, and I had a narrow escape from being rolled, horses, carriage and 
 all, over and over, down and into a deep gully filled with rushing, 
 roaring water at the foot of the hill. As it was I was tumbled out on 
 the hillside in a hurry. I scrambled to my feet, but would not get 
 into the dog-cart again. I preferred to walk down rather than roll 
 down. This side of the hill was covered with tall kangaroo grass, 
 coarse and stiff and strong, and it reached my shoulders. I had to 
 push my way through this stiff, wet grass. The rain was still pouring 
 down. I was drenched to the skin. I had a long traveling cloak on, 
 but my hands became so cold and numb that I could not hold it around 
 me, so I let it go, and it si)read like a carpet on top of the tall, wet 
 tufts of grass, merely bending the heads and shaking out the water 
 they contained all about me, making me still more uncomfortable. 
 Down and on I went, Mr. Bryan helping me with one hand and lead- 
 ing his horse with the other. This was an impossible task, for the
 
 124 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 horse slipped and fell, and slipped again, and so required all his master's 
 care. We reached the bottom of the hill only to look in dismay upon 
 the gully, the depth and width of the rushing, roaring waters making 
 it appear an impossibility to cross it. The equestrians, all but Bryan, 
 had crossed the stream ere it rose so high. I could not be persuaded 
 to get into the dog-cart to cross, so it crossed without me. When half 
 way over, it stuck fast in the mud at the bottom, and Mr. Bryan's 
 horse was fastened to the foremost horse of the dog-cart, and so by 
 main force they pulled it out. Then came the wagon with tents, and 
 we wished to get this across ere we left the place, as the valuable sur- 
 vey instruments were in it, and it took all the seven horses in our party 
 to get the wagon across. The bullock dray had to wait till the water 
 subsided ere it could cross. While all this crossing was going on I 
 was sitting in the rain, shivering with cold. Isaac, my driver, was a 
 tall, strong man, and he said he must carry me across, there was no 
 other way. So he lifted me in his arms, no great weight of myself, 
 but my saturated garments and the great heavy cloak made a consid- 
 erable weight to carry across the muddy, rushing torrent. The water 
 reached Isaac's waist. When he was about half way over, he stumbled 
 and nearly fell, but he soon recovered his foothold and carried me 
 across in safety. I was lifted into my little dog-cart dripping wet and 
 chilled to the bones. We were long delayed, and the day was wear- 
 ing on apace. We entered a forest of stringy bark trees, and traveled 
 through this some time, till we came to a great sandy basin, lying 
 between Willunga and Currency Creek. 
 
 "This basin is gloomy and sterile, and is a most remarkable feature 
 in the geology of the province. At an elevation of 700 feet above the 
 sea level, it is surrounded on all sides by stony, rugged hills, except 
 the south and southeast, in which direction it falls into Currency Creek 
 and Hindmarsh Valley respectively. Mount Magnificent, Mount Com- 
 pass and Mount Jagged rise in isolated groups in different parts of the 
 basin. Its soil is pure sand, its surface is undulating, and in many 
 parts it is covered with stunted banksias, through which it is difficult to 
 force one's way while riding along." Thus spoke Captain Sturt on 
 horseback; and what must it have been to one riding in a four-wheeled 
 dog-cart, with two horses, each trying to go his own way, through this 
 unbroken wilderness of scrub. The banksias is a numerous tribe, with 
 peculiar flowers of various colors and shaped like a bottle-brush. From 
 tlie quantity of honey they contain, they are popularly called honey- 
 suckles. They are stunted, crooked and deformed; the trunk, as well
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. I 2$ 
 
 as the branches, crook, and turn into sharp elbows. A whole tree 
 does not give two feet of straight timber. 
 
 "What is that tree good for?" I exclaimed, when I came bump 
 up against one, and nearly upset. Hundreds of miles from that 
 spot, and years after I had asked the question in impatience and dis- 
 gust, I received an answer. I visited a ship-building yard, where I 
 saw, piled up high, these objectionable knees or elbows of the banksias. 
 I asked for what purpose they were there. I remembered the ugly, 
 stunted things. I was told that these elbows were most valuable in 
 boat and ship building. So I thought God does not even make these 
 ugly things in vain. Another tree grew in this gloomy basin, which, 
 if not so ugly, was equally in my way, and obstructed my progress. It 
 was the grass tree {hauthorrhed) , which has a flower like a bulrush. 
 The tufts of this grass grew on hillocks, and between the clumps the 
 hollows were filled with water, and. when the wheels of my vehicle 
 would be up on one side, they would dump down on the other ; no 
 sooner would the wheels be lifted out, than thump they would go 
 against a tree, and the cart would shake as if it Avould fall into pieces. 
 I had to hold on for dear life, but I got so many bumps and bruises, 
 and was so numbed and chilled with cold, I could not hold on any 
 longer. I had to be strapped to the seat, to prevent my being thrown 
 out and killed. As it was, my face was cut and bleeding, and my 
 knees very much bruised by the dash-board. Every bump I received, I 
 thought my back was broken or my limbs. The rain did not cease all 
 day, and the cold was intense. I often wished that day that I had been, 
 like the others, in side-saddle. The day was drawing to a close, and 
 I was completely exhausted. The sun went down, and all was dark 
 and dreary. I saw a great fire far down below us, at a great distance; 
 it was the camp-fire lit up for a beacon, to guide us on our dark way. 
 We began to descend into the valley of Currency Creek, which was 
 very difficult, as well as dangerous, under the circumstances. When 
 we reached our destination for the night, I was unstrapped and lifted 
 to the ground; but I had lost all use of my limbs, I could not stand, 
 and fell prone on the ground. I was carried and set on a log near the 
 fire, which was blazing at a fierce rate, and which fizzed and sputtered 
 as the rain poured on it, but blazed on all the same. Mrs. Sturt sent 
 for me as soon as she heard of my arrival. They were all in the dining- 
 tent, and as I sat on the log in the rain before the fire, I tried to un- 
 fasten my boots. I could not stoop. I managed to raise my foot 
 to my knee, but could not get it down again. I seemed petri-
 
 126 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 fied. Of course, I could not go to the dining- tent when the man came 
 for me- I had to be carried to my sleeping tent, and laid down on the 
 floor. Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia came to me, helped to undress me, 
 and put me to bed, where I lay three days unable to move. 
 
 A camp of coast surveyors were at Currency Creek, waiting to take 
 our party up the river in their boats. Captain Pullen, who was in com- 
 mand, had ordered a plentiful supply of game, such as cockatoos,* 
 kangaroos, f parrots and parroquets, and dampers. 
 
 The night before we left Currency Creek, I was peering out into the 
 darkness, trying to distinguish the road I had come rattling down, 
 between rocks and rain, on the night of my arrival. The height from 
 which I came loomed in black relief against the sky, but no road 
 was discernible. Around the blazing fire, which sent up into the dark- 
 ness long, flickering tongues of flame, which seemed to devour the 
 night, sat a number of men. Some were talking about the probabilities 
 of the expedition, whether success or failure would be the result; others 
 were preparing supper, amongst other things a large damper, the mak- 
 ing of which interested me much, as I had never heard of, or seen, one 
 before. It is a loaf of bread, kneaded on a coarse, canvas bag, spread 
 on the ground. The ingredients are flour, water and salt. The burn- 
 ing, embers of a watch-fire are scraped to one side, and the heated 
 ground scooped in a hollow to the depth of five or six inches, and 
 
 *The cockatoo is as large as a hen, and it is seen in large flocks; some of them 
 are pure white, and some pure black. Those of each color have rose colored 
 crests, with wings and tails lined with tlie same bright tint. They have also 
 sulphur-colored crests and tails, and wing-linings of the same delicate hue. They 
 are beautiful birds, but their screech is ear-piercing. Their flesh is tough, and 
 not most pleasant to eat. 
 
 tThe kangaroo is a marsupial, ungulated mammal, and, when born, is very 
 imperfectly formed ; but the mother's pouch serves as a lodging-place for the 
 young, until they are perfectly developed. They hang on to the mother's teats 
 till they are able to leap about, and are covered with hair, and can f-ed on other 
 food than milk. For a long time after they can leave this pouch, they fly back 
 to it as a place of refuge, when any danger threatens. They are herbivorous, and 
 have no canine teeth, but a long, vacant space between the incisors and molars. 
 The incisors, several in number, are in the upper jaw. They are placed with 
 rodents, but they also chew the cud, like ruminants. They are placed with un- 
 gulated animals, but have only the middle toe of the hind foot, which is very 
 large, covered with a horny substance resembling a hoof. This is their weapon 
 of defense, and they inflict terrible wounds on the kangaroo dogs that hunt them. 
 They are remarkable for their small fore paws, short legs and narrow shoulders, 
 and their long, large, hind legs and tail, upon which they sit vertically, as on a 
 tripod. With the help of their great tail and their legs, they leap along at a 
 great rate. "The Old Man," or giant kangaroo, can clear a space of between 
 twenty and thirty feet. He stands six feet high. The hind-quarters only are 
 used for food, as his flesh is very coarse and tough. His great tail makes very 
 good soup.
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 1 27 
 
 about two feet in diameter. Within this hole is placed the half-kneaded 
 mass of water, flour and salt, which is made to fit the concave, primi- 
 tive oven, the hot coals are raked over it, the fire is replenished, and 
 the process of baking goes on. When this mass of dough is sufiiciently 
 cooked, the coals are withdrawn, and the bread taken from its hot bed, 
 besmeared with dirt and ashes, and dotted with cinders. It was far 
 from looking a tempting article of food. As I watched the process of 
 making and baking this loaf with a degree of interest that amused the 
 baker, he asked me what I thought of it. He was delighted with his^ 
 success, but I coolly replied, that I did not know what to think, only it 
 did not look fit to eat, and I turned away into the tent, while he mut- 
 tered : 
 
 ' ' I hope, ere you get home, you will be glad to eat worse than that, 
 Miss." The wish was not very good-natured, but it was realized. 
 
 I was sitting in the dark tent alone, thinking of what I heard the men 
 say of our expedition, when I was startled by a long, low, melancholy 
 howl, such as I had never heard before. What could it be ? Captain 
 Sturt told me that the howl I heard was that of the dingo, or native 
 dog. This animal is, by some naturalists, considered a feral dog; that 
 is, a dog that has become wild. He has been partially reclaimed by 
 the native savages, but this is not a sufficient reason for assuming that 
 he has been introduced by man, or by his instrumentality. If, as other 
 naturalists say, he is indigenous to Australia, then nature has made* a 
 diversion in his favor, and given him a variety of colors, though red- 
 dish brown is the usual one. The wild dingos are larger and more 
 ferocious than the partially domesticated. When confined, they neither 
 howl, growl, or bark; they are mute. When prowling in freedom, 
 they have a most melancholy howl. They prowl around sheepfolds at 
 night, and kill as many sheep as they can catch. Their bite is so 
 severe, that few who are bitten recover. They devour domestic dogs, 
 and are more daring than wolves.* 
 
 The morning dawned and the camp was all astir. The sun rose 
 upon the fourth day of our encampment at Currency Creek, and we 
 were all ready to resume our journey. We had a short distance to go 
 ere we reached the mouth of the creek, where were Captain Pullen 
 
 *The length of its body to the tail is forty-two inches, tnil. twelve inches. The 
 eyes are near the nose, only tliree and a half inches a]>art; the head is small for 
 the size of the body. It lias a long, straight, bushy tail. This animal is the only 
 species of true carnivora in New Holland. The Colonial Government has offered 
 five shillings for every male, and seven shillings for every female, in hopes to ex- 
 terminate them. The race will probably soon di-appear.
 
 128 CHE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and his twelve coast surveyors, with three large whale-boats, and a gig 
 was ready, waiting for us to step in and sail up the Murray River. 
 Our tents, tarpaulins, trunks and other baggage were all packed into 
 the wagons and sent by land, and the horses which had no riders were 
 led. Captain Sturt took possession of the gig. His Excellency, 
 Mrs. Sturt, Miss Julia and myself were in a whale-boat under an 
 awning. The two ladies sat with their backs to the stern of the boat, 
 the governor and I sat opposite to each other at the side of it. Cap- 
 tain Pullen was the coxwain or steersman. As the boats sailed on 
 the rough and restless waters of the Goolwa Channel, which connects 
 Encounter Bay to the Lake Alexandrina (Captain Pullen had succeeded 
 in taking a small cutter from seaward into this channel, afterward called 
 Port Pullen in honor of this achievement), we looked toward the sea 
 mouth of the Murray, which has ever been a famous spot for tragical 
 events. No one could look on the foaming waters of that wild line 
 of sand-hills, through which it has forced a channel, without a feeling 
 of awe. Directly open to the Southern Ocean, the swell that rolls 
 into Encounter Bay is fearfully heavy. The breakers rise to the height 
 of fifteen or eighteen feet before they break or burst in one unbroken 
 line as far as the eye can reach. Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia both 
 claimed the honor of being the first white female on the Murray — one 
 the wife of the Surveyor General, the other the governor's daughter. 
 I could not claim relationship, but I put in a claim to be the first on 
 the river, as I was the width of myself nearer to the bows of the boat 
 tlian they, and of course farther up stream than they. We laughed 
 at our disputed claims. But no one can dispute the claims of the trio 
 to the honor of being the first party of white females on the limpid 
 waters of the lower River Murray. There was a strong south wind 
 blowing, the waters were very rough and I was sea-sick; but I 
 could not lie down. The second day I made an exchange with Cap- 
 tain Sturt. He laughed at my being sea-sick, but made the gig com- 
 fortable for me to lie down. 
 
 The second evening from Currency Creek we landed on the shores 
 of the beautiful Lake Alexandrina. The governor and the others 
 landed before me and were away up on the knoll, hidden from view 
 by a belt of tall reeds that lined the shores of the lake. When the 
 gig drew up to the shore, I rose up in order to land, but Avhat was my 
 terror and horror to see on the margin of the lake, between the reeds 
 and the water, on each side of the boat, a line of painted savages,
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 1 29 
 
 armed with spears, waddies and towerangs. I screamed and cowered 
 down in the boat. 
 
 "Oh, how can I land and get past them?" was my low, frightened 
 cry. 
 
 Two young gentlemen took my hands and said: 
 "Come, we will guard you." 
 
 All had landed by this time, and when I rose a second time to land 
 an avenue of men was formed, and the reeds held back, so that I 
 could easily make my way up to the knoll. When I sprang from the 
 bows of the boat upon the reedy ground, I felt the sharp points of 
 the broken reeds cut my boots, and pierce my feet, and give me pain, 
 but the yell that escaped the throats of these nude savages was so 
 terrific that my flying feet hardly felt pain or touched the ground till I 
 reached Captain Sturt's side. The savages were still yelling and beat- 
 ing on their towerangs with waddies. I had never seen savages, and 
 their yells frightened me. I looked up to Captain Sturt's face to be 
 reassured. He put his hand on my head and said : 
 
 "Eliza, you have nothing to fear from these savages, they will not 
 hurt you; they have given you a right royal welcome. You are the 
 first white creature with petticoats they ever saw." 
 
 I feared and disliked these painted savages all the same. They had 
 seen our boats on the water and ran to where tfte first landed, and 
 were in time to see me land. So Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia missed 
 the honor of the royal welcome that I had the horror to receive. We 
 pitched our tents amidst a tribe of the fiercest savages that roamed 
 the forests, and the policy of conciliation was humane as well as safe. 
 The governor was a kind. Christian gentleman, and took every pains 
 to show these wild men of the woods his protecting care. He ordered 
 from the stores we carried with us, blankets and shirts to be given 
 them. Some of them had three or four old shirts given to them, and 
 these they put on all at one time. Captain Sturt had seated some of 
 them on the ground, and the governor was showing them the use of 
 the fishing line and hook. At another spot our white tents were 
 gleaming in the sunshine. At still another, sat a group of our people 
 under a sail which was stretched over the oars of a boat, with several 
 savages, and our black I5ob, who was our interpreter. They were 
 talking and gesticulating at a great rate. On -a rock above me sat, in 
 solitary grandeur, a grim savage, with a shirt on and a white cocka- 
 too's feather in his hair. He sat aloof, alike from his own tribe and 
 the white invaders, watching with scowling brow and malignant eye 
 9
 
 130 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 their every act. I drew near to this statue-like figure. I scanned his 
 features closely, but he deigned not to notice me. He had coarse, 
 frizzy black hair, not wool, standing away from his head like a som- 
 brero or mop; his forehead was so low that his hair and eyebrows 
 nearly met, his head receded from front to back, so that his head be- 
 hind was enormous in size; his eyes were large, black, deep-set, glit- 
 tering and fierce, and overhung by beetling, shaggy brows ; his nose 
 was large and flat; his mouth huge, with gleaming teeth; his lips 
 thick and hanging. While he sat on that rock motionless, he was a 
 picture of ugliness that fascinated me, but when he moved his great 
 glittering orbs from one side to the other, showing nothing but the 
 white, and moved his thick lips, I felt sick, as if he were about to tear 
 me to pieces and eat me. I turned from looking at his demon-like 
 ferocious countenance to contemplate a more pleasing picture. Cap- 
 tain Sturt had said that the country around this magnificent lake was 
 one of the richest and most highly favored spots on the face of the 
 earth. He was correct, for more beauty could not be seen in any 
 country than here. The beautiful lake spread out like a sea be- 
 fore me, rippling and shimmering in the sunshine, and it was sur- 
 rounded by extensive flats, covered with tall forest trees, mostly euca- 
 lypti. In the background rises the Mount Barker Range in all its 
 grandeur. The lake covers an area of 2,000 square miles, and its 
 widely extended shores consist of a rich alluvial soil. Captain Sturt 
 said the lake was very shallow, and in. the far future may be filled up; 
 and the river that empties into it may be confined to a narrow bed, 
 pursuing its course through a rich and extensive plain. 
 
 I was amused at the group of savages around the governor. He 
 was showing them various objects. His watch seemed to interest them 
 greatly; but they were alarmed at a box of lucifer matches; they 
 thought the fire was produced by magic. Savages are all superstitious, 
 and these practice sorcery to a very great extent. They thought, 
 however, that they were outmatched by matches. 
 
 The Australian man has amusements unlike those of the South Sea 
 Islanders. His food does not spring spontaneously from the ground; 
 'he has to hunt and fish to get his food. He practices throwing the 
 'spear and the boomerang, so as to be expert in catching fish and game. 
 The boomerang is a wonderful weapon in the hands of the savage. It 
 is made of very hard wood. It is about twenty inches long and about 
 three broad in the middle. It tapers at each end, and is shaped like 
 •the diagram ^^\. The dexterity and precision with which it is
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. I3I 
 
 thrown by these Blacks is a marvel to the whites. They hurl it so as to 
 strike the object at a distance of over one hundred yards, and it can be 
 thrown so as to return to the thrower. They can make it describe a 
 circle round a tree and strike a looker-on. This singular, simple- 
 looking weapon is found only among the Australians, and it has ex- 
 cited the wonder of all Europeans. It is no less strange than true, 
 that white men have never learned to make or throw the boomerang, 
 though they have made the attempt. 
 
 No doubt music hath charms to soothe the savage. One of our 
 partv had a flute, and after frightening these fierce denizens of the 
 woods, excited their curiosity, and finally quieted and subdued their 
 excitement, and they were seemingly charmed listeners to the dulcet 
 strains. 
 
 The savages had been well entertained by the whites, and they 
 returned the civility by showing us their war-dance. It is seen to 
 best advantage at night, so this was the time selected. Kangaroo skins 
 were rolled up tight and placed before the old men and boys. I saw 
 no women, though they are usually the musicians. A tattoo was beat 
 on these skins with the fists for music for the dancers, who also chanted 
 in time. Fires were lighted at regular distances in rows, four rows 
 with four fires in each. These were the preliminaries. There were two 
 parties of savages, one painted white the other red. They were nude, 
 with long white or red stripes down their arms and legs and across 
 their ribs: their faces and heads painted with white and red ochre, 
 were hideous. Spears, waddies and towerangs were their weapons 
 (a waddy is a knotted club about twenty-four inches long; a towerang 
 is a small bark shield). In this terrific garb the men were arranged 
 on each side of the fires. One of each party advanced, a red one 
 and a white one, toward each other, struck waddies, sang and gestic- 
 ulated, and kept time to the music made on the skins. Another pair 
 advanced, struck and crossed spears, then struck the towerangs. 
 Another pair advanced, and another, till all had entered the lists. 
 Then was pandemonium let loose; nothing could be more horrible. 
 The glittering eyes rolled around, showing little but the whites; their 
 huge mouths were wide open, and their teeth were gleaming, and 
 their big red tongues were hanging out. Their disgusting, hideous 
 gestures; their skeleton-like bodies leaping over and around the fires 
 with their terrific yells, are things never to be forgotten if once wit- 
 nessed. When they had finished their horrible fiendish dance, they 
 marched up with the measured tramp of the warrior. Whilst I stood
 
 132 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 spell-bound with horror, looking at the disgusting scene, I felt some- 
 thing grip my foot with a tight grasp. I was greatly excited by what I 
 saw before me, and when I felt my foot firmly clutched, I screamed 
 and staggered back, and would have fallen back had not the governor 
 caught me. He and Miss Julia were behind me. He asked me 
 what was the matter. I told him something had hold of my foot. 
 His Excellency was inclined to doubt it at first, but immediately he 
 touched my arm with one hand, while the other pointed to an object 
 wriggling in the grass toward the fires, where the dancers were. I saw 
 the wriggling animal, but could not say what it was until it reached the 
 fires, when it rose to the height of a man, and then squatted. 
 "Oh!" I exclaimed, "it is one of those painted savagesl" 
 And it was one, who, unseen by us, had left his party and crawled 
 up to where we stood, gripped my foot and crawled back to his place 
 again. The governor saw the hideous creature crawling before I 
 screamed, but took no notice of him till after. 
 
 This same savage made Encounter Bay Bob his friend, and by some 
 means was concealed on board one of the boats and sailed two days 
 ere he was discovered. He was made use of as an interpreter between 
 the Murray Blacks and Bob, and Bob interpreted to the whites. The 
 dialects of the Murray tribes differ from each other very much, and 
 we made good use of Bob and Tommy, as the lake savage was dubbed. 
 Tommy had some old shirts given to him, which he wore, one on top 
 of the other, to the number of six, with great delight, but inconven- 
 ience. He doffed them when he got into the boat, but he had to don 
 them when he went ashore for the night. Tommy accompanied us 
 to the Northwest Bend. At the great bend might be seen one day, 
 for the first time, a camp of white invaders. Around the camp-fire 
 were several men preparing kangaroo stew, and cockatoo pie and 
 damper, while a large pot hung over the fire, with a dark liquid boil- 
 ing cheerily. The liquid was tea, prepared by putting a quantity 01 
 tea into a pot of water and letting it boil till all the strength was boiled 
 out, the blacker and bitterer the better. Then it was put into a tea- 
 pot and served up to a few, while the rest dipped in their tin-cups and 
 drank. Another group of men were lounging on kangaroo skins 
 reading, being sheltered from the sun by a wagon. Another group, 
 two ladies and two gentlemen, stood in front of a marquee, between 
 this group and the river. Under a eucalyptus tree of magnificent 
 proportions lay a solitary girl reading, nor thought of danger near. A
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. I33 
 
 few yards behind her was a savage with a waddy in his hand, moving 
 toward her with stealthy step. 
 
 "Ehza, quick here!"' rang out on the still air. 
 
 I sprang to my feet in an instant, ran toward the place whence the 
 voice came, wondering what was the matter. On my way up I met 
 black Tommy, who glared at me with a most horrible expression. I 
 dodged on one side to get past him; he dodged to the same side and 
 stopped me, and patted me under the chin with his great black paw. 
 Oh, what an odor! When I reached the serious-looking group at the 
 tent-door, Miss Julia came near to me, while her father said : 
 
 ''I called you to tell you that black Tommy has fallen in love with 
 you, and wants you for a lubra, and has followed you from the lake, 
 without our knowing his intentions till just now. Pie has been to all 
 the men in the camp, and asked them if you were their lubra or pican- 
 iny, and as no one claimed you for wife or child, he thought his way 
 was dear to knock you on the head with a waddy, and carry you away. 
 He is a bold schemer, but we think he must have had some encour- 
 agement from the men, or he would not have gone so far; however, 
 this will be looked into. Meantime, you must never leave the tent 
 without a guard. There are plenty of young men who will gladly keep 
 guard over you. Otherwise you might get a blow on the head by an 
 unseen agent, and be carried away senseless, or, which would be more 
 likely, a corpse; for the blow that would stun a black beauty would 
 surely kill you. When we saw the savage, waddy in hand, stealing 
 toward the tree under which you reclined, we had no time for action, 
 but only to call you, and your prompt answer to the call, perhaps, 
 saved your life." 
 
 I shuddered at the danger I had been in without knowing it, and the 
 very narrow escajje that I had made. Part of my daily prayer was to 
 ask God to preserve me from dangers, seen or unseen, and His ear is 
 certainly open to those who are helplessly trusting in Him alone. He 
 is my Father and my Friend. I thanked the governor for his kindness, 
 and said: 
 
 "I shall be careful." He is a kind, fatherly man. 
 
 The aboriginal marriages are different in different tribes. In some 
 tribes it is performed by a forcible abduction of a female from her tribe. 
 When a young man sees a girl in another tribe that he fancies, he 
 watches his opportunity to find her alone, darts toward her, gives her 
 a blow on the head with a waddy, which stuns her, and carries her off 
 to his wurly. When she is missed in her tribe, and when they know
 
 134 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 vhere she is, her nearest kinsman and her husband have a fight; who- 
 ever conquers claims her. She is then asked which tribe she prefers; 
 as a rulg, she stays with her husband. Tommy was closely watched. 
 He was the ugliest savage of the tribe save its chief, who was monstrous. 
 A few months after our visit to the lake region, the brigantine Maria 
 was wrecked in Lacepede Bay, and the poor passengers and crew, in 
 trying to find their way to Adelaide, were barbarously murdered by 
 the Murray blacks. Black Bob, our ex-interpreter, brought the intel- 
 ligence from the scene of action. He said nine white men were killed; 
 four were roasted and eaten, and five were ready to be cooked and 
 eaten. On this horrible news reaching the seat of Government, Gov- 
 ernor Gawlor determined to avenge the death of his countrymen. 
 Major O'Haloren, Commissioner of Police, was appointed to head a 
 party to go down to investigate the matter, with full power to bring the 
 guilty parties to punishment. A series of murders had been committed, 
 and the murderers must be punished, in order to the safety of subse- 
 quent settlers or travelers. The gallant major was accompanied by 
 Captain Nixon, Mr. Hart, Inspector Tolman, twelve policemen, Mr. 
 Pullen and eleven sailors. Bob and other blacks. When the party 
 reached the place where the bloody scene was enacted, a number of na- 
 tives were seen along the coast far ahead, running to make their escape. 
 Pursuit was given, and over fifty women and children were captured, 
 with fifteen men. Upon the persons of almost every one were found 
 articles of European clothing stained with blood. A silver watch and 
 some silver spoons were found. This convinced the major that he had 
 some of the murderers in charge, and he kept the men close prisoners, 
 but let the women and children go. Next day more of the ferocious 
 black fellows were captured. Two were shot who took to the lake. 
 The wonder is that all were not shot, but the major had his instruc- 
 tions, and acted accordingly. In addition to the murder of the crew 
 of the Maria, other whalers were cruelly murdered; and black Bob, 
 who was witness against the murderers, told us that he knew of four 
 men who had been eaten, and that five more were ready to be roasted 
 and eaten. * All the available evidence was i:)roduced, and the murderers 
 pointed out, four in number, besides the two who were shot. One of 
 these four gave more particular evidence of the revolting transactions, 
 and he was pardoned. Two or three were sentenced to be hung, with- 
 
 *Some Authors say that the Australian blacks are not cannibals. I believe they 
 were, in the days I speak of, not from actual observation, but from reading and 
 hearing so much of the practice of cannibalism.
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 
 
 135 
 
 out judge or jury, but no Court could have been more solemn under 
 the awful circumstances. The day after the condemnation, the whole 
 party, the condemned and other prisoners, went about fifteen miles to 
 where the crew of the Maria had been butchered, and over their re- 
 mains were hung two or three men. One of these was the veritable 
 chief, whose grim face I so closely scanned at Lake Alexandrina. It 
 took six men to hold him, so fierce and violent was he. Who knows 
 what his dark mind was cogitating, when he sat alone in his ugliness 
 on the rock ? After these were hung all the other blacks were set at 
 liberty, with the injunction that no one was to take down the dead 
 bodies, but all to take warning, and be civil to white men, or share the 
 same fate. There has been no organized plan to butcher the white 
 men wholesale since that time. 
 
 We prepared at early dawn for a fresh start on our watery way. The 
 day was beautiful and bright, the wind was fair, and all were cheery. 
 Our flotilla presented a very pleasing picture, as we sped over the rip- 
 pling waters of the lake, our white sails set, and glistening in the sun- 
 shine, like the white-winged messengers they were, carrying civilization 
 into the surrounding solitudes. We entered the lake-mouth of the 
 Murray, and soon came to a station, where were a number of men con- 
 structing a raft to facilitate the crossing of sheep, which had to be 
 brought from New South Wales. Here we met several mounted po- 
 lice with led horses, and also Mr. Bryan, my obliging escort across the 
 sandy basin at Willunga. I heard a gentleman of the marine party 
 say of Bryan : 
 
 ''There is something about him noble and daring, calculated to attract 
 attention; there is something in him, his manner and appearance, that 
 will at some future day make him an ornament to society, and an 
 honor to his family." 
 
 Poor Bryan saw no future; he was destined never to return to 
 Adelaide. His family, in the Emerald Isle, saw him no more forever. 
 Mr. Pullen, master of the marine party, was unable to perform his 
 duties as cockswain to the governor, on account of some ribs and his 
 collar-bone being broken. He had met with a severe accident just be- 
 fore we joined his party, and though he was convalescent, steering the 
 boat gave him great pain and fever, and another had to take his place. 
 The governor and Captain Sturt were the only gentlemen of the party 
 who had mattresses to sleep on, and kangaroo skins were not soft as 
 down for broken bones, I offered Captain Pullen the use of my mat- 
 tress, as I did not need it half as miich as he did, but he politely re-
 
 136 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 fused to take it. 1 asked Captain Sturt to insist upon his taking it, as 
 I could not think of sleeping upon a comfortable bed, when he was 
 suffering so much for want of one; that he might as well take it, for as 
 long as I thought he needed it, I should not use it. Captain Sturt told 
 him he must take it, for I had so determined. It proved a great com- 
 fort to him. The usual pat on the head, and "you are a good girl," 
 from Captain Sturt, more than repaid me for any inconvenience that 
 I had. 
 
 The first night that I spread my sheet upon the earth and lay down, 
 I felt a little self-complacent at what I had done. I thought I should 
 sleep sweetly, because I had done my duty. I committed myself to 
 my heavenly Father's care, and composed myself to sleep; but I could 
 not sleep, things were crawling over me and under me. I was not 
 afraid, but I did not know what the things were that kept me from 
 sleep, and I did not wish to awake Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia by strik- 
 ing a light. I lay all night in a very uncomfortable situation. The 
 night seemed long, and as soon as day dawned I arose, put my hand 
 between the outside canvas and the lining of the tent to pull it down, 
 to admit the light. I felt something pinch my finger. I pulled up my 
 hand hastily, and to the end of my finger hung a centipede seven or 
 eight inches long. I shook the creature off in a hurry, not as Paul did 
 the viper, into the fire, but upon the ground. At first I did not know 
 what it was, I had never seen a centipede. I lifted my pillow, and 
 there were several very large ones crawling about; I lifted my sheet, 
 and there were several more of the disgusting looking centipedes, which 
 had been reveling around and over me in the night. I was thankful 
 that I had not been bitten by them.* 
 
 While breakfast was being prepared, we saw a great cloud of dust 
 moving toward us, from the bush east of us, and presently we heard 
 the sharp report of a rifle. We were startled by such an unusual sound 
 in these vast solitudes. As the cloud came nearer, we discovered a 
 great herd of cattle and sheep, apparently without number, which had 
 been brought overland from New South Wales. As I stood looking at 
 these wild animals tramping down everything before them, bellowing, 
 and lashing their gaunt sides with their great tails, I wondered how the 
 
 *Scolapendra is the generic name of centipede. They are venomous, but ex- 
 cept with diseased persons and children, their bite is not fatal. Their body is 
 long, and divided into rings, and each ring has a pair of feet. The number of 
 their legs or feet depends on the length of the body and the number of rings. 
 They are like worms with a great many legs. Their heads have two antennae and 
 two eyes. They chew their food.
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 137 
 
 way-worn and weary stockmen could manage such uproarious creatures; 
 but here they were, having traveled over hundreds of miles of waste, 
 howling wilderness. 
 
 Poor fellows; how I pitied them, and the sheep with their pattering 
 feet, raising clouds of dust enough to blind and smother them. The 
 poor men must have suffered great and many hardships ; but so it 
 must always be with explorers and pioneers. 
 
 We bought two sheep and sailed away. This day being Saturday 
 we landed early, killed the sheep, and what was not dressed for din- 
 ner was hung high up in a tree to preserve it, as the day was very hot, 
 and the flies troublesome. At the altitude of twenty or thirty feet, 
 meat could be kept fresh any length of time, but near the ground, it was 
 ruined by the large blue fly, even while it was being eaten, if not 
 carefully watched. 
 
 "Wiregauze covers are absolutely necessary at table to keep the 
 meat from walking away," said some one, and it is true, or nearly so. 
 
 The morning of Sunday broke upon our encampment in the very 
 extreme of Australian beauty. All nature was at peace. The river 
 was like a beautiful band of silver bordering a mantle of dusky hue. 
 It contrasted beautifully with the brown appearance of the country 
 through which it was silently flowing. Our encampmant was to enjoy 
 a day of rest in the wilds as in the city. His Excellency never trav- 
 eled on Sunday willingly. The whole company were assembled in 
 the dining marquee, to join in divine worship. There we were, a 
 silent group, listening to the Christian soldier and warrior conducting 
 the Church of England service, and another soldier. Captain Sturt, 
 reading the responses. There was something in our situation that 
 rendered the service very imposing and impressive, without altar or 
 organ. This was the first assembly which had ever met together here 
 for the high and holy purpose of worshiping the true God. We 
 were far away from the habitations of civilized men, in the midst of a 
 wilderness, where the savage roamed in ignorance and moral debase- 
 ment. The calm dignity of the Governor's demeanor, while conduct- 
 ing the service, the time, the place, the circumstances in which we 
 were placed, all added to the grandeur of the scene. It is painted on 
 my memory as in rainbow tints. 
 
 Early the next morning we were again afloat on our watery way. 
 We put in at a little nook for breakfast, and while tea and damper 
 were being jjrcpared, I was standing near by an interested spectator. 
 All at once I screamed out, Oh, oh ! and ran off to the tent, holding
 
 138 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 my dress tight around my knees. The cooks laughed heartily at my 
 hurried retreat. I felt as if a score of lancets had pierced my skin. 
 I had un wittingly ^stood upon an ant-hill, which was owned by a gar- 
 rison of the fiercest soldier ants. I invaded their territory, and they 
 resented my intrusion upon their domain by marching up to, and sur- 
 rounding my limbs, and from my ankles to my knees, they bit me in a 
 savage manner. I had ten bites on one limb and seven on the other. 
 Where these ants bit they left a small red spot, and round this spot 
 the skin grew black all over my limbs, and the pain I felt was excru- 
 ciating. Mrs. Sturt took some lotion from the Captain's medicine 
 case and bathed my wounds.* 
 
 In the evening time, when the tents were being pitched and the din- 
 ner preparing. Miss Julia and I would indulge in a quiet walk up or 
 down the river bank. On one occasion, as we were taking our accus- 
 tomed walk, our conversation turned upon our respective fathers. I 
 thought, had my father lived he would be kind and indulgent as hers. 
 We were talking of what might have been. I had the comforting 
 knowledge that I had a heavenly Father if not an earthly one. We 
 were in quite a sober mood; but we were suddenly startled out of it. 
 The ground was undulating, and we were passing through a copse of 
 stunted banksias, just out of sight of the camp. We had terminated 
 our walk and were about to return, when up sprang a black savage, 
 painted in red war paint, from under a banksia. We turned from the 
 hideous sight of this nude savage, only to see another jump up, and 
 another, and another, from under the bushes, where they were am- 
 bushed. We were surrounded by eighteen or twenty of these savages, 
 glistening in grease and war paint, and armed with war weapons. I 
 
 ®The labors and policy of the ants are very wonderful. Their nest is a city, con- 
 sisting of dwelling-places, halls, streets, and squares into which the streets open. 
 In general, the larvae dig in the earth a number of galleries. Chambers are 
 arranged in stories, and in carrying out the dirt they often raise hills ten or 
 twelve feet high. In the interior of these hills, the little workers form new 
 stories like those below. The chambers on each side of the streets, or galleries, 
 are where they store their winter food. Ants are carnivorous; they do not 
 themselves eat the grain that they are often seen carrying to their city; they eat 
 animal food and honey. They have a little insect they keep imprisoned in one 
 of their cells, which makes for them the honey they use in return for the grain 
 they provide for her. I have had large snakes after being killed put on an ant's 
 hill, and in a few days the flesh would be entirely eaten oft the bones. I have 
 also had the top of a hill shoveled off", and laid open the chambers filled with 
 white and tempting looking snake's flesh, ready for a rainy day. "Go to the 
 ant, thou sluggard," and learn a lesson of industry. 
 
 The soldier ants, who so bravely defended their fortress, were over an inch long, 
 stood over half an inch high, were bright red with a spot of black in their heads. 
 They were warlike and fierce. ♦
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. I39 
 
 grew faint and sick. Julia grasped my arm, and, in a suppressed 
 whisper, said : 
 
 "Let us run." 
 
 "No, no, 1 can not," I said. 
 
 "What shall we do?" again she whispered in agonized tones. 
 
 "I do not know," I said. 
 
 But in that moment of utter helplessness and terror, I remembered 
 that I had a Father in heaven, Almighty to save, whose arm could 
 shield us. Thoughts as quick as lightning flashes passed through my 
 brain; first I feared being killed and eaten; then, O horror! I 
 thought they might not kill us, but what would be a thousand times 
 worse than death, they might carry us away and hide us. 
 
 "O God, my Father," I mentally exclaimed, "save us from being 
 carried away." 
 
 In a moment I felt that whatever befell us we were in His hands 
 who doeth all things well. As I looked at the grinning, painted sav- 
 ages, I felt horrified at our helpless state, but I knew that if God did 
 not permit these monsters to harm us, a hair of our head would not be 
 injured, but if God allowed them to kill us, we were still in his hands. 
 I felt secure under His protecting care. I then had no fear, though 
 we were only two helpless girls completely in the power of these painted 
 demons. I felt also that God was very near to protect His poor help- 
 less children. Julia pressed my arm now, and said: 
 
 "Let us run." 
 
 "No," I said, "we can not yet." 
 
 "I am afraid," said she, and shook like an aspen leaf, whilst her 
 face was blanched. 
 
 "So am I afraid; but I have prayed to God to take care of us, and 
 He will," said L 
 
 Meantime one of these panther-like monsters came close up to me 
 (they had never seen any creatures like us before, and their curie sity 
 was excited) and took my hand, pushed up my sleeve, and put his 
 great horn)^ hand and arm close to mine. His touch made my flesh 
 creep. He then pushed my bonnet from my face, and ]nit his face 
 close to mine, and looked at my neck. The close proximity of his 
 great jaws and gleaming teeth made me shiver, but when he pulled 
 the dress off my feet to look at them, I gave him a push which drove 
 him from me staggering to a distance, and he nearly fell. This made 
 all the uncouth savages relax and yell most hideously. While Julia 
 and myself were beinjj examined by two of tliese horrid men, all the
 
 140 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Others were grinning and looking on deeply interested in the investi- 
 gation. Julia again pinched my arm, and the burden of her cry was 
 still, 
 
 "Let us run." 
 
 This it was impossible to do with safety. Had we attempted to run, 
 or shown signs of fear, our destruction was certain. We were sur- 
 rounded by these horrible-looking men, their mouths wide open, and 
 their tongues hanging out of their huge jaws, as if they were ready to 
 devour us, their eyes fixed and glowering at us with a most horrible 
 gaze. They presented a horribly sickening sight; but when I drove 
 the fellow from me, the scene changed from rapt attention to hideous 
 gesticulation. The violence of their movements was awful. I dared 
 not cover my eyes to shut out the sight. I made signs to the danc- 
 ing demons at last to sit down a la Tare on the ground, which they 
 did. Julia and I had a piece of paper and a pair of scissors between 
 us. I showed the paper to the blacks, and they looked at it with 
 open mouths. I showed them the scissors, and then I snipped the 
 paper. This brought them all to their feet around me. I had to sign 
 to them again to sit down in a semicircle, with their faces toward the 
 camp. Then I began at the first man so that he could see it well, then 
 to the next, and so on to the end of the row, then back to the fi-rst, 
 till the paper was hung in shreds. What was to be done now ? I had 
 nothing more to show, and these hideous-looking creatures were all in 
 quiet expectancy. While I was cutting the paper, every snip I gave was 
 responded to by yells and beating of waddies on the towerangs at a 
 most furious rate. Now I was at a standstill, but this must not last, 
 for these demons would be up and around us again. On the instant, 
 I resolved on a bold step. It may cost me my life I thought, but 
 something must be done. Life and death were in the balance. I 
 went up to the first savage in the row. It is needless to say how I 
 felt. I looked at him, and by signs pretended to cut hair from my 
 chin, and then I took hold of his beard and held the scissors close to 
 it, and asked if I might cut his beard. He nodded assent, and I 
 snipped a piece off, my pulses beating fast and furious, and the yells 
 were raised to a higher pitch than ever. I started back in alarm and 
 disgust, but I had nothing to fear from him whose beard was cut, for 
 he held the other side up to be cut also. This I did, and I gained cour- 
 age, and went round to all of them. I stood behind one and lifted 
 an ochre besmeared lock of his hair, and asked by signs if I might 
 cut it off. He consented to the operation. And so I went to all and
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. I4I 
 
 cut a part off their beard, or their hair off their head. Again a pinch 
 of the arm and a low voice whispered: 
 
 "Let us run." 
 
 "No, not yet," was the answer. 
 
 JuHa had not let go my arm since first we were surrounded. I 
 went back to the first man in the row, took paper, spread it on my 
 hand, took the dirty, disgusting haic and spread it out on the paper, and 
 began to roll it up. I had to go the round and let every one see what 
 I was doing. When all was done that could be thought of, I looked 
 toward the camp for the hundredth time I suppose, but no help was 
 nigh. None but God could deliver us, and to Him I now looked for a way 
 to escape. I shook my fist in the faces of these human monsters and 
 pointed to the camp. I walked a few steps from them, looked back, 
 and again shook my fist at them. Every motion of mine from first to 
 last was accompanied by yells, the most hideous and ear piercing that 
 could be imagined, and beating of towerangs with their waddies. 
 Every few steps we took I turned and shook my fist, with the same 
 demoniacal response from them. It was evident that these savages 
 expected us to return and show them something more. We reached 
 a knoll. On the top of it, for the last time, I turned and shook my 
 fist, the yells were louder and more hideous than ever. We were now 
 beyond the range of their vision. 
 
 "Now, Miss Julia, let go my arm and let us run, the time has come." 
 
 And off we bounded like two hunted kangaroos. Fear added 
 wings to our speed. On we went. We hardly touched the ground. 
 We stopped not to breathe till we reached the camp. The sun had 
 gone down, and in those southern latitudes the twilight lasts but a 
 twinkling. We reached our marquee just as darkness covered our 
 camp as with a mantle. We sat down on the ground and burst into 
 tears, and we cried most heartily. The strain on our nerves had been 
 too much. We cried till a messenger came to tell us dinner was 
 ready; but we cared not to eat. We sat still and had our cry out, 
 then we kissed each other, and embraced each other, and had (juite a 
 little scene all to ourselves. We had just had an escape from death 
 with all its torturing details, and, oh, worse than death with all its 
 horrors. This was one of those instances in which is compressed in a 
 few minutes the sensations of years of ordinary existence. Life, death, 
 eternity, bodily pain, and worse than all these, ten times told, were 
 all presented to our senses. It was some time ere we were composed 
 enough to talk. When we found speech, we exclaimed:
 
 142 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "Oh, how terrible! oh, how horrible!" and we covered our faces 
 with our hands, to shut out from our mental vision, if possible, the ap- 
 palling sight. But all was too vivid to our mind's eye to be so soon 
 shut out. That event is written upon the tablets of my memory with 
 a pen of iron, so deep, that it can not be erased while memory lasts. 
 When we were a Httle more calm, I took the hair in my hand, and said : 
 
 "Let us divide this hair as a traphy of our triumph and escape." 
 
 "Oh," said Julia, "not as my triumph, I did nothing; I was too 
 much afraid." 
 
 ' ' I was too much afraid too to do anything, till I asked God for help. 
 He put it into my thoughts to do what I did do, and deserves all the 
 praise," I said. 
 
 "Well," she said, "that may be, but I can not take the hair as a 
 memento of my triumph." 
 
 "Well, then as a memento of our providential escape," said I. 
 
 "Yes, that will do," she said, and so we divided the bristled, griz- 
 zled hair of the beards and ochred, matted heads of the worst looking 
 of all the hideous savages of the Murray, or even of the earth. They 
 belong to the lowest types of humanity. They have no idea of an 
 overruhng providence. After we had divided our trophy, we entered 
 into a covenant, and why we did so, I can give no reasons. I doubt, 
 if we had one at the time, but what was prompted by fear. We prom- 
 ised never to tell of our adventure as long as we remained in the colony. 
 In the first place, we feared a reprimand for straying so far from the 
 camp. We had no need to fear any severity; we might have been warned 
 not to go outof sight of the tent without a guard. Mrs. Sturt's good-night 
 to her husband at the tent door caused us to spring to our feet. We 
 three prepared to retire. No questions were asked about our absence; 
 I suppose we were hardly missed. I spread my sheet on the ground, 
 and lay down to sleep; but my imagination was so excited by the hor- 
 rid scenes we had passed through, that I could not sleep. My heart 
 was full to overflowing with gratitude for our preservation. I thought 
 of my orphaned state, and what would have become of me in the wilds 
 of this great land, if I had not a kind, heavenly Father to protect me. 
 O God, my refuge and defense in a perilous hour! I cried unto the 
 Lord, and he heard my heart's cry, and saved me. It is a good 
 thing to trust the Lord. Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia had long been 
 asleep, but I lay awake. Deep midnight reigned around in silence 
 and darkness; not a sound was heard, only the soft breathing of 
 the sleepers. In the midst of the death-like silence, I heard what
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. I43 
 
 sounded like a rushing, mighty wind. I saw a fierce gleam of Hght 
 through an opening of the tent. I sprang to my feet, pushed my 
 head outside of the tent, and saAv all the grass and brush around 
 the camp on fire, and our men trying to beat it back from the 
 tents with branches of trees. I heard an order given, by whom I do 
 not know: "To arms, and pursue!" and several men of our party 
 gave chase. Chase to whom? The savages who waited for Julia and 
 me to go back and show them something. They got tired waiting, and 
 came near our camp and set the grass on fire. Had it not been for 
 our watchmen, we might all have been burned in our beds. I went 
 back to my resting-place on my sheet. Presently I heard the crack of 
 a rifle or gun, then another, and another. I never knew whether any 
 of the savages fell that night. The sleepers had been aroused, and 
 sleep fled from the camp for the remainder of the night. Next morn- 
 ing we saw a new danger we had been in, from the reptiles rushing to 
 our camp. The matter was discussed, and the conclusion was, that we 
 were in a dangerous neighborhood, inasmuch as two tribes of savages, 
 one on each side of the river, were at war with each other, and the 
 sooner we moved our camp the better. So before the sun reached the 
 tree-tops on the eastern horizen, we were in our boats. 
 
 As we glided up the river under easy sail, we did not see any na- 
 tives; but ere we brought up for breakfast, we saw two bark canoes. 
 These were very simple in their construction. The bark cut off a large 
 tree and tied at each end, and a stout stick about two feet long placed 
 in the middle to keep the sides out. The savage sits flat on the bottom 
 of his canoe when he paddles it. The canoes we saw were very small, 
 and black Tommy, as soon as we landed, made for them, and, before 
 we knew what he was about, deliberately punched holes in them and 
 sank them. He was asked why he did such a thing, but he only 
 grinned and danced. We were hardly afloat again, when we heard 
 the most tremendous yells. Black Tommy did not come on board of 
 any of the boats that day, but went with the wagons which carried the 
 tents and heavy luggage. On the boats turning a projecting point, we 
 saw Tommy in full chase after a number of black women; and when 
 he got up with the flyaways, he very coolly selected one, and brought 
 her back to the boats. All this was very amusing to the white men. 
 The other women, after their panic was over, came down to the boats 
 evidently bent on revenge ; but when they saw so many white people, 
 they were afraid, and plunged into the river and swam to the other 
 shore. Tommy was compelled to let his black beauty go free. The
 
 144 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 heat was very great, and the wind died away, and the men had to take 
 the oars and row up stream, which was very hard work. 
 
 The governor, always humane, landed early when the men had to 
 row. On this evening we saw a number of cattle running wild. The 
 governor ordered one to be shot, and the skin, if branded, to be taken 
 to Adelaide, where he would advertise for the owner, and have him paid 
 for the animal. The cow was shot and skinned, but the skin, with 
 things far more valuable, were left in the desert, and never reached 
 Adelaide. Captain Pullen milked the cow after she was shot, and gave 
 me some of the milk to drink. She was cut up, and some of the warm 
 flesh prepared for dinner. The remainder was hung high up in a tree 
 till the morning. Tommy feasted on the raw entrails. His usual food 
 while with us was big, fat grubs, which he picked out of hollow trees; 
 worms were a delicacy to him. The grubs are found in the gum and 
 wattle trees, and are from four to six inches long, and about half an 
 inch in diameter. When lightly fried they taste like marrow — so said 
 one of the party who had partaken of the dainty dish. Tom ate his 
 raw. He seemed to relish a dinner off a dead dog, or iguana, exceed- 
 ingly. I was sorry when we set sail to see so much fresh meat left be- 
 hind, but we could not keep it fresh till dinner-time, so we left it for 
 the hawks and dingos. 
 
 We camped at a place where the river banks just below were high 
 precipitous bluffs, and as we passed up between them, they looked like 
 walls. Here the channel was narrow, swift and very deep. On look- 
 ing south from where we were, we saw that we had reached a higher 
 plane, and this high land stretched east and west as far as the eye could 
 reach. North, the surface was undulating. We were 200 or 300 feet 
 above the level of our last encampment, and I was greatly surprised to 
 see on this high, dry land banks on banks of oyster shells, as if just 
 thrown there in heaps; and my surprise was not lessened when, in dig- 
 ging about, I found a fossil shark's tooth. I found a variety of shells 
 besides the oyster. I, of course, could not account for sea-shells, and 
 fossil bones, and teeth of great fishes, that we found here. I asked Cap- 
 tain Sturt, and he said we were on a great fossil formation.* 
 
 *He said that he had seen, in various parts of the country, several deposits of 
 sand, like sea-dunes, which greatly changed the face of the country ; and when 
 the events, which had produced such changes in the physical structure of the 
 country, t.ook place, a current of some description or other swept over the interior 
 from northward, and that the current had deposited the great fossil bed where it 
 now rests. He could not account for such a mass and mixture of animal remains 
 being heaped up in any other way.
 
 , AN" EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 145 
 
 Miss Julia and I, in one of our very short rambles, discovered three 
 black women, each with a girl picaniny on her knee. They were un- 
 couth looking creatures. They were hidden away in a nook in one of 
 the cliffs, jabbering at a great rate, just like monkeys, which they very 
 much resembled. They were hideously disgusting. We were afraid 
 of them at first, but they did not offer to hurt us. I patted one of the 
 monkey-looking babies, and gained the favor of the mother right away. 
 She grinned, and went through some antics, which were not the most 
 graceful. 
 
 The native women do not usually rear more than four children. The 
 task of rearing their children is so severe, that they frequently destroy 
 them as soon as they are born. 
 
 On our way we passed two burial-places, each differing from the 
 other in appearance. One was formed of four tall poles stuck into 
 the ground at equal distances, like the legs of a table. On top of 
 these was placed a square piece of bark, on which was seated a painted 
 savage, spear in hand. When I asked what that savage was doing up 
 there, I was told that he was dead and buried. I laughed at the idea 
 of being buried away up in the air. Well, this was one mode of put- 
 ting away their dead. The other burying-place had a corpse lying on 
 the ground and covered with branches of trees stuck in the ground on 
 each side of the corpse and lapped over, and the dead covered with 
 these and left, as was thg sitting figure on top of the poles, to decay. 
 
 Mr. Strange, our naturalist, or rather our taxidermist, was busy prCr 
 serving all the birds which Bob and Tom brought him. Mr, Gould, 
 who was with us a part of the time, classified the birds, b£asts and 
 plants which we found. Black and white swans are indigenous to the 
 Murray River. One day Tom had climbed a tall tree with the agility 
 of an Australian Black, which agility was marvelous. He caught his 
 bird, reached the ground, and Mr. Bryan was looking at the specimen 
 ere it was handed to Mr. Strange. Here were two men between whom 
 a greater contrast could hardly be presented. In their physical ap- 
 pearance they were as distant as the poles, both had black hair, black 
 eyes and white teeth. Tom with beetling brows, deep-set, restless, 
 crafty eyes, his black hair red with ochre, and teeth a great mouthful; 
 and though he donned the four shirts after his descent from the tree, he 
 looked every inch a hideous savage. Bryan with black hair waving 
 over a broad, white, intellectual brow, nose slightly Roman, mouth 
 well-formed and fascinating when wreathed in a smile, beautiful white 
 teeth, eyes large, lustrous, speaking, sparkling, seeming to look into 
 
 lO
 
 146 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 you while looking at you; a square chin, a tall, well-formed, athletic 
 figure, handsome and noble. He often sat under a tree beside me 
 and read the poetry of. his countryman Moore. He had a fine voice, 
 and his rich, Irish accent fell on the ear pleasandy. He and an elder 
 brother brought letters of introduction to Governor Gawlor, and the 
 younger was appointed aid-de-catnp to His Excellency. So much for 
 the handsome, hapless, gentlemanly young Bryan at present. 
 
 We reached the Northwest Bend of the Murray River after two 
 weeks sailing by day on its broad and placid bosom, and resting by 
 night on its verdant banks. The heat had become intense. We had 
 not had any rain since the day we left Willunga and everything was 
 parched. Some of the islands we passed were fairy-like and covered 
 with verdure. Others were barren, rocks that divided the current of 
 the river, but all were full of interest. There was something in the 
 solitude of these spots forsaken and alone in their sterility, and weird 
 in their silence, that made the most thoughtless thoughtful. 
 
 We were at the end of our voyage, but we had a desert unknown to 
 white men to cross, and ere we parted with our marine escort, it was 
 deemed prudent to explore part of the desert over which we were to 
 pass. The governor. Captain Sturt, Mr. Bryan, and three others, all 
 mounted and armed, and a pack-horse carrying three days' provisions 
 and one day's supply of water, were to go on the short journey. The 
 object of this expedition was to find water; they hoped to find it on the 
 second day and supply themselves, and return on the third day. "Man 
 proposes, God disposes." Our whole party numbered thirty persons 
 — twelve marines and sixteen landsmen. The six explorers went off in 
 fine spirits. Mr. Bryan told me to take care of myself, and keep out 
 of black Tommy's way. I laughed, 'and said: 
 
 "I will be careful, the governor has warned me." 
 
 Away they went to search out the capabilities of the unknown land. 
 1 liked all the gentlemen of our party but two, and they were my own 
 countrymen, one a draftsman, the other a surveyor, who went with 
 the exploring party; both educated, handsome young men. I could 
 have been very friendly with them but for a very disagreeable way 
 they had of teasing me. They thought I ought to have been more 
 cordial in my manner to them; why they thought so I could not divine, 
 
 as they had never been particularly kind to me. Mr. B and Mr. 
 
 G had been particularly kind to me on our voyage up the river — 
 
 they were of the marine party — and I was grateful to them for their 
 attention. Mx- E and Mr. F of our own party were exceed-
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 1 47 
 
 ingly kind, and why should I withhold my thanks from them? They 
 were all like brothers to me. We were thrown together in our wilder- 
 ness travels, so it seemed a necessity that we should be kind to each 
 other. Mr. F. constituted himself my body-guard against the attack of 
 Tommy, and no doubt thought himself a more suitable suitor. One 
 afternoon Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia, as was their wont, retired to the 
 tent for a siesta, I to a foot of a tree to read; but I could not read. 
 My hand and book lay on my lap, while I watched the sun going west- 
 ward. He had shone out brilliantly all day, and as he sank toward 
 the horizon, which was dyed a purple hue, magnificent piles of clouds 
 were gradually rolling upward, their edges fringed with burnished gold, 
 and made more gorgeous by a crimson and orange background. The 
 trees around me raised their majestic branchless trunks to a great 
 height, like grand pillars supporting a vaulted roof, and forming aisles 
 grander than those of old and famed cathedrals. A forest is the tem- 
 ple of the Eternal. Here we can look from nature up to nature's God. 
 
 While I was enjoying the glorious scene around me, Mr. F joined 
 
 me, and in the blandest tones said he was glad to find me in so se- 
 cluded a spot, and had no doubt but my mind was full of fine senti- 
 ments. 
 
 "You are just in the place and in the mood I wished to find you. I 
 wish to say something very important to you." 
 
 I smiled, and said: "I think the place is not very secluded, as the 
 tents are but a few yards behind this tree, and as for my mood, tliat 
 you take for granted; but as the situation suits you, I shall listen to 
 the important matter you have to communicate." 
 
 With some pomposity of manner he said : 
 
 "You must have known for some time that I love you." 
 
 "Well," I said, "you are not the only one who has told me that." 
 
 "But," he said, with still more importance, "I wish to marry you." 
 
 "If I do not wish to marry you, what then?" 
 
 "O I shall make it to your interest to marry me. I will surround 
 you with everything your heart can wish." 
 
 And here followed a long list of inducements to marry him. I very 
 emphatically said: "Mr. F I shall not marry you." 
 
 "Why not," said he ; "do you object to me?" 
 
 "Without objecting to you or anyone else, I am too young to marry, 
 and I shall not marry you." 
 
 He said, with more feeing than the case required :
 
 148 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "You are the first who has ever refused to marry me when I asked 
 them." 
 
 And here followed a list of his conquests. 
 
 "You mean, contemptible male coquette, did you expect to add my 
 name to your list? I am glad I escaped the snare by disliking you," 
 
 "By h n I shall make you my wife." 
 
 I very quietly said: "Never." 
 
 "I shall compass heaven and earth but I shall have you." 
 
 I told him to try his best; and he did try. He asked Captain Sturt 
 for me after our return to Adelaide, and came to see me, but I left the 
 house when he came, and he only gave up the chase when I was be- 
 yond his reach. He was astonished that I could refuse him. I think 
 he loved himself more than he could love another. His bold assur- 
 ance and egotistical vanity roused my national pride as he again swore 
 that he would make me have him. I rose to my feet and said : 
 
 "I defy you sir." And left him in what he called a secluded spot, 
 and in no very sentimental mood. 
 
 Mr. Gerald, another of the governor's aids-de-camp, Mr. P , 
 
 Mr. B and Mr. S of the coast survey, were all exceedingly 
 
 agreeable without pomposity or egotism. They all made my days 
 pass pleasantly. The weather was fearfully hot, but we enjoyed our- 
 selves. 
 
 The brightest days have clouds sometimes; so it was wnth our*party 
 at the Bend. Pleasantly as we were situated, dark clouds were 
 looming on our horizon. Four days were over and gone and our ex- 
 plorers had not yet returned. We thought of course that they had 
 found water and were all right. On the fifth day, I as usual was up 
 early and standing at the tent-door inhaling the fresh morning air, 
 when I saw four horsemen ride into camp. Who are these? I men- 
 tally asked. I was not long held in suspense, for I heard Captain 
 Sturt' s voice. I ran to meet him as I was the only one astir in the 
 camp. How strangely the captain looked. He was swaying back 
 and forth and sideways; one hand hanging listlessly by his side, the 
 other resting on the pummel of his saddle. I saw a strange look in 
 his face. He threw himself out of the saddle and asked me : 
 
 "Where is the governor and Bryan?" 
 
 "I do not know," I said. 
 
 Then he muttered something, I did not know what. His words and 
 looks were wild; I was afraid that he was out of his mind. I ran to
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 
 
 149 
 
 awake Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia. They both dressed in a hurry and 
 came out. The captain was still calling, 
 
 "Where is the governor!" 
 
 His wife's arms were soon around his neck. Poor Julia screamed 
 out: 
 
 "Oh, where is my father? where?" 
 
 The captain tore himself from his wife, and ran to his own and the 
 governor's tent, calling loudly for the governor and Bryan; but they gave 
 no response. Mr. Pullen ordered a search-party to be got ready, to 
 go and find the missing men, and bring them to the camp. 
 
 "Great God, where can they be?" exclaimed the captain. 
 
 Many were the questions asked about the missing men, but none 
 could answer. The three gentlemen who had ridden into camp with 
 the captain were lying on the floor of the dining-tent in a state of per- 
 fect exhaustion, but were tended well by willing hands. Captain Sturt 
 was raging wild, and poor Julia, like a stricken deer, could do nothing 
 but weep and wring her hands, and call : 
 
 "Where is my father? my dear, dear father?" 
 
 I had no time to think. I went to the cook and had him make a 
 cup of strong coffee, and I gave it to the captain, and it worked like a 
 charm to quiet him. He was able now to talk coherently. Mr. Pul- 
 len said to the captain : 
 
 "I have a search-party ready to start off to look for the missing ones." 
 
 "For God's sake let them go at once, and find the governor and 
 the noble young fellow who is with him; they ought to have been here 
 yesterday." 
 
 "Where shall they go? in what direction?" was asked, and the 
 captain told them as well as he could. 
 
 The party started, but they had not gone more than a hundred yards 
 in a northwest direction, when we saw a solitary horseman approaching 
 the camp from the west. The search-party had seen the equestrian, 
 and turned back just in time to catch the governor in their arms, as he 
 fell senseless off his horse, and was carried to his tent, where he re- 
 ceived the needed attention. They gave restoratives, but his mind 
 was wandering. He did not know where he was; he could tell noth- 
 ing of poor Bryan; did not know where he left him. Captain Sturt 
 ordered the search-party to proceed on their search for Bryan, and off 
 they started toward the west, the direction whence the governor came. 
 We had harrowing accounts of the sufferings endured by the explorers. 
 They found no water the first day out, as they had e.\i)ected, and their
 
 1 5© THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 water only held out to the second day. Still hoping to find water, in- 
 stead of returning, as they ought to have done, they continued their 
 search, but it was fruitless. They went still farther inland, till their 
 food, as well as water, was exhausted; then they began to retrace their 
 steps. The governor showed signs of great suffering; his tongue be- 
 gan to swell and turn black, his head was affected. The captain be- 
 came alarmed when he saw these signs, and he told the governor that 
 he had better ride with all haste to the camp. He was incapable of 
 taking care of himself, so Mr. Bryan accompanied him, and they both 
 started straight for the camp, and ought to have been in more than a 
 day before the others. After the two left, the others were still diverg- 
 ing from the direct route in hope of finding water. The heat was 
 fearful; the glare of the sand was blinding. The horses were showing 
 signs of "knocking up," as they say. Their tongues were hanging 
 out of their mouths and dreadfully swollen for want of water. One 
 very valuable horse, worth $700, fell exhausted. The sufferings of the 
 men were so terrible, that they fell from their horses, and my two 
 countrymen wished to be left in the desert to die; they said they could 
 go no further; they became delirious. Captain Sturt felt the symptoms 
 of delirium coming on himself, his tongue was beginning to swell; and 
 as he desired to save the others if possible, he cut the throat of the dy- 
 ing horse, and gave each of the men a quart of the blood to drink. 
 This they drank, disgusting as it was, and it saved them. It acted as 
 an opiate, and they all slept a long sleep, and awoke refreshed, but 
 with singularly wild feelings. Their half-dead horses could hardly 
 bear them to the camp. The poor horses suffered dreadfully. A little 
 water at a time was given them, their feet and legs were well bathed 
 with water, and then they were fastened up to keep them from the 
 river. One of the finest of them went mad, broke away from his fas- 
 tenings, ran to the river, rushed in, looked around in triumph, then 
 began to plunge, and finally to drink, and drank, and drank, and then 
 fell dead. Poor Georgie! Our provisions were getting low; we had not 
 all we needed, but we could get no fresh supplies. Meantime, the 
 governor was as well attended as he could be under the circumstances. 
 Only at times was he rational during the first day. His invariable 
 answer to the question, 
 
 "Where did you leave Bryan?" was: 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 By close questioning at the right time, it was ascertained that as soon 
 as the governor and Bryan left the party, the governor grew worse, and
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 151 
 
 fell from his horse. Bryan did everything he could to help him up, 
 and en his horse again; but the horse, as well as the rider, was show- 
 ing signs of exhaustion, and Bryan, fearing lest the governor should 
 die, insisted on an exchange of horses, Bryan's being the stronger and 
 fresher. The exchange was made, and the last that was seen of Bryan 
 was, when he told the governor to hurry to the camp while the horse 
 had strength to carry him. 
 
 "I looked back when I left Bryan, and saw him walking slowly, 
 leading my poor, sick horse; but I do not know where that was. Soon 
 after I left him, I fell from my horse again, and became unconscious, 
 or slept, I know not which, and how long I lay I do not know. When 
 I returned to consciousness my clothes were very damp. !My horse 
 was quietly standing by me, and my arm through the bridle. I suc- 
 ceeded in getting on my feet, and I tried to call for Bryan. I thought 
 he could not be far from me. I cooeed, and cooeed, but received no 
 answering cooey. How long since, or where it was, I can not tell." 
 
 When this exciting day drew to a close, all were anxious for the re- 
 turn of the search-party. When it came in sight several ran to meet 
 the men, and see or hear of Bryan, but there was no intelligence; he 
 could not be found. Captain Sturt was nearly frantic. He said he 
 would go himself, and search for the youth till he was found; but he 
 was prevented from making the attempt. He ordered another party 
 to be formed, and to start in another direction, and to search and find 
 Bryan, dead or alive, and bring him to camp. The party started be- 
 fore sun up, taking black Bob and Tom to follow up Bryan's trail, if 
 they could find it. They could follow a trail over a naked rock. They 
 had the sight of the grayhound, and the scent of the bloodhound. We 
 were all hopeful that Bryan would be brought to camp tliis day. They 
 got up to where the governor parted with Bryan. They tracked Bryan 
 in a different direction from the track the governor took to get to the 
 camp. Another day of anxious suspense passed, and the party re- 
 turned, bringing with them a slip of paper, on which was written these 
 words in pencil: "I take a southeast direction from this place." 
 
 They had found this paper stuck in the saddle that Bryan had taken 
 off his horse and left on the ground, with bridle and blanket and tin 
 pannikin. His linen coat, vest, necktie and socks were folded and 
 placed beside the saddle. They saw the horse's tracks, where he had 
 been turned loose, going one way, Bryan's going another. It was 
 asked why they did not follow uj) the youth's track? They answered: 
 the day was far spent when they found the things, and they had
 
 152 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 neither food nor water Avith them. Another party started off early 
 next morning for the spot where the paper was found, with orders to 
 take a southeast direction till the river was reached. Another party 
 was dispatched down the river, to where the two parties would form a 
 junction, and they both were to search all round the country for the 
 missing youth. Sundown brought them all to camp without Bryan or 
 any tidings of him. His saddle, bridle, blanket and other things were 
 brought to camp. The Blacks tracked him through scrub and brush, 
 till they came to a great sand-flat, but beyond this not a vestige of 
 poor Bryan was ever seen. With the instinct of hounds. Bob and 
 Tom crossed and recrossed the sand-flat, and went round it, but beyond 
 it no trace could be found. For one week parties were sent out every 
 day in different directions, but all efforts put forth to find the lost one 
 were futile. Conjecture was busy at work. Where could Bryan have 
 gone ? As far as the sand-flat, he had followed the direction indicated 
 on his paper; the same direction would have taken him to the river; 
 but beyond the sand-flat, there was no trace of him. There was no 
 quicksand in the flat, or he might have disappeared in it. If the 
 savages had got hold of him and killed and ate him, we should have 
 found his bones and vestiges of fire. Twenty-four hours after he 
 parted from the governor, he could not have lived without water, and 
 if he died for want of water, we ought to have found his body. 
 Whether his grave was in the stomachs of the savages or elsewhere 
 was never known. His end was shrouded in mystery. His spirit had 
 flown to God, and none but God knew where his body lay. It would 
 have been a mournful satisfaction to us all could his body have been 
 found, and more especially to his brother, his only relative in the colo- 
 ny. He was good and brave, but he fell a sacrifice to government 
 policy. The young, handsome, noble youth sleeps a dreamless sleep, 
 which will last till a better day dawns. When poor Bryan was lying 
 faint and low on the burning sands, with swollen tongue and closing 
 throat, praying for water, we in camp, all unconscious of his despair- 
 ing cry, were full of enjoyment. While his poor body lay blistering in 
 the sun, his eyes starting from their sockets in mortal agony, we were 
 talking of the time when we should all be in Adelaide recounting our 
 travels. His brother was devoted to him, and for months party after 
 party was sent in search of the lost one, but all to no purpose. The 
 horse he rode was found three months afterward alive and well, but 
 very thin. 
 
 We had been looking after the dead, now the living had to be looked
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 1 53 
 
 after. Our provisions, which were intended to last us three weeks, had 
 lasted four, but now they were exhausted, all but a few pounds of green 
 tea and a few pounds of salt pork. The marine party, having been longer 
 out than was expected, had also run out of provisions, and with them 
 we had to divide our little to help them on their voyage down the 
 river. We of the land party had the waterless desert to cross in which 
 our unfortunate explorers had suffered so much. Black Tom v.as se- 
 cured and put on board of a boat, with orders to keep him secure till 
 he reached Lake Alexandrina. A courier was sent to Adelaide to the 
 Government Commissariat to send provisions to meet our party. We 
 had lost three fine horses, and consequently had to lighten our loads. 
 I left my trunk and some of my clothes on the banks of the Murray, 
 not to mark the spot to future travelers, but because I could not carry 
 them. We had no provisions to pack, but we filled every vessel we 
 could with water. The cheerless prospect of nine days' travel across 
 a trackless, waterless desert was gloomy indeed, but we must cross it 
 if possible. The sad, sad events of the last week rested like a pall 
 upon our spirits. Whether it was our prospect or our retrospect that 
 we considered, our burden of gloom was heavy enough. We struck 
 our tents, had them packed on wagons, and I was perched on top of 
 a wagon full of tents and mattresses; I had no horse to ride. We 
 turned our backs on the great Northwest Bend a sad and silent party. 
 I was greatly oppressed and cast down. I felt as if our troubles were 
 not over. None but God could give us strength to endure what I 
 feared was still before us. 
 
 "Let not your heart with anxious thought be troubled or dismayed, 
 But trust in God your Father's care, and trust my gracious aid." 
 
 The first day we crossed a level plain a few miles wide. Its surface 
 was composed of red sand and clay, with a mixture of calcareous 
 limestone nodules. The very nature of this soil was hot, and nothing 
 could grow on it. We reached a spot where grew a few stunted 
 bushes here and there. The day had been fearfully hot, and man and 
 beast were exhausted. Here we encamped for the night. The salt 
 pork was cooked ; we had no flour, so we could have no damper, but 
 the tea was boiled. I drank some of the tea, but felt no inclination to 
 eat the pork. A hot wind, fierce as the breath of a furnace, blew in 
 gusts that made the flesh shrink as if touched by ahot iron. No one who 
 has never felt it, can conceive the withering effect of such a heat. We 
 retired early, but I could not sleep. I arose before the sun and walked
 
 1^4 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 forth a short distance. I ascended and took a seat upon a high cHff 
 which overlooked the camp; I wished to see a sunrise in this arid 
 region. I watched the young Hght wax stronger, and its radiance in- 
 crease, till it filled the whole heaven. Then the sun showed his upper 
 rim above the horizon, and rolled a globe of fierce splendor into space. 
 Everything looked still and solemn, as if the spirit of the air was ly- 
 ing in quiet along the face of the earth; but suddenly a rushing, mighty 
 wind beneath me swept over the camp, overturning tents and tarpau- 
 lins, and everything that offered any resistance to its impetuosity. 
 Our marquee was tilted over as if it had been a paper tent, and Miss 
 Julia in her terror started from her bed and ran about in her night 
 dress, and did not know where to hide. I called to her to lie down 
 and cover herself with the sheet. I rose from my seat to run to her; 
 had the cliff been less high I might have leaped down and been with 
 her in a minute, but I had to go back and descend the way I came. 
 • As I was running down the hill, I met the governor coming up. His 
 greeting was always pleasant. 
 
 "Why so early on the brow of the cliff?" he asked. 
 "I wanted to see the sun rise," I said. 
 
 He asked if Julia was up. I described the scene I had witnessed 
 from the top of the cliff, and said : 
 "I am now going to her assistance." 
 
 "Good girl," he said; I shall go with you, and see if she is hurt." 
 When we reached the marquee, Julia was cowering on the ground, 
 and Mrs. Sturt struggling under the canvas. We liberated Mrs. Sturt, 
 and while the governor went for assistance to raise the tent, I hunted 
 up some garments, and helped to dress the two frightened ladies. As 
 we had no cooking to do, we were soon en route. Soon after starting 
 we entered a dense brush of cypress and eucalypti, growing in pure 
 sand; through this it was impossible to take a direct or correct course. 
 A road had to be cut through, and when it was cut and cleared for a 
 short distance, the wagons sank deep into the loose sand in which 
 these trees were growing. The toil and labor and delay of cutting 
 through this belt of sombre cypress and pines and acacia were dread- 
 ful. We had no fresh water that day, our supply ran out, and all were 
 suffering. I had not tasted food for two days. I did not feel hungry, 
 but I did feel light-headed. Ere we halted for the night, we came 
 across a party who had come overland from New South Wales with cat- 
 tle. Their provisions were nearly exhausted, but they shared with us 
 what they had, a little flour, enough to make a damper, some rum, and
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 155 
 
 a few raisins. The men found a water-hole; I was greatly rejoiced at 
 the discovery. A glass of this precious liquid was handed to me to 
 drink, and I was so eager to have it that I swallowed a great mouthful 
 of it ere I discovered that it was bitterly salt. I dashed the glass to 
 the ground in my disappointment. I was made deathly sick by what 
 I had swallowed, and vomited till I was completely exhausted. I could 
 not undress myself, and lay down on the ground. All night I suffered 
 horribly. The salt-water did not seem to hurt the others. Next morn- 
 ing I had no toilet to make, so was ready to start as soon as I rose from 
 my pallet, and this was Christmas morning. Our flour and raisins 
 were saved to make a raisin damper for this day. The last of our tea 
 had been boiled, and the damper, dotted with raisins, looked very 
 much like the one I had first seen made at Currency Creek, but not so 
 palatable, inasmuch as this was made of salt-water, and the other of 
 fresh. I remembered the cook's wish, that I might be glad to eat a 
 worse damper than he was then making. That time had come. Tears 
 started to my eyes when I thought how I had scorned the first damper. 
 Here was a damper filling a large space, heavy, and not half cooked, 
 and some green tea boiled^ with salt-water, and drunk without milk or 
 sugar. These dainties were placed before fifteen hungry men and 
 women, who did ample justice to the Christmas breakfast. The sugar- 
 less salt-water tea .to me was simply poisonous, to taste it made me sick. 
 Some rum was put into the salt-water, and given to me to allay the 
 sickness, but that was equally sickening. Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia 
 ate of the damper, drank of the tea, and also of the rum and water, and 
 were not made sick by them, and, consequently, they felt stronger than 
 I did. The Christmas day before, I was lying in a hospital burning 
 with fever. Now I was in a inhospitable region — a burning desert — 
 without food or water, a strong, hot wind driving clouds of red dust 
 around us, and flies innumerable tormenting us. The Australian hot 
 winds are as dry and hot as the breath of a furnace. One's head reels 
 from the intensity of the sunshine. It occasioned us intense thirst, 
 which, alas, we were not able to quench. The blistering heat had 
 broken all our combs and brushes, so we had to go unkempt. We had 
 no soap, and when we washed in the salt-water, the red dust was firmly 
 caked on our skins, and the heat baked it and burned it in; so we were 
 masked in red clay. I had only one dress, and it was wearing ofl" my 
 back in pieces. I had left all I could not carry at the Bend, and I 
 could not make a change. After wc had eaten our Christmas dinner, 
 we resumed our toilsome journey. The equestrians were mounted, I
 
 156 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 was lifted to the top of the wagon, and hud on a mattress deathly sick, 
 and there I lay blistering in the sun all day. In the afternoon, my at- 
 tention was directed to a single horseman, riding as fast as his weakened 
 horse could carry him. I wondered who it could be, as our equestrians 
 always rode ahead of the wagons. I raised my head with great effort. 
 We were just emerging from the densest part of the wilderness, but 
 keeping near the trees for what shade they could give us. I wished to 
 see the horseman, but my head came butt against the limb of a tree, 
 and nearly stunned me, and tore my chip bonnet all to pieces. Had 
 my head been raised an inch higher, my neck must have been broken 
 or dislocated. The horseman rode up to the side of the wagon, hat in 
 hand, and his bare head exposed to the sun's fierce heat. He handed 
 the hat to me. I had had such a blow on the head, and felt so stunned, 
 that I could hardly speak to Mr. F , who had ridden a long dis- 
 tance out of the way, to where black Bob said he knew a kind of fruit 
 grew, to get some for me. He thought I was going to die, and to save 
 me he had exposed himself to sunstroke and sudden death, that he 
 might carry the fruit in his hat. The fruit was a small, bright, crimson- 
 colored kind of peach or apricot. It was the fruit of the quandong, a 
 tree that grows only in the sandy plains of the interior. It had a string- 
 ent, pungent taste. I would not prefer it to a peach or apricot, had I 
 a choice. As it was, I took the little red things as a godsend. I ate, 
 and was refreshed. I kept some for Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia, when 
 we should meet at camping time. ' ' The young lions do lack and suffer 
 hunger, but they who seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." 
 Like the young lions, I was suffering hunger, and, worse than hunger, 
 thirst. But the Lord was kind; he gave me strength of mind to sup- 
 port my sinking body. I felt so completely in his hand, under his pro- 
 tecting wing, I had neither fears nor anxieties. Now in my weakened 
 
 state, he put it into Mr. F 's head to bring me quandongs, that for 
 
 the time refreshed me. The quandong I had never seen or tasted be- 
 fore that time, nor have I seen or tasted it since that memorable day. 
 
 I felt truly grateful to Mr. F , as an instrument in God's hand, for 
 
 bringing me the berries, at the dreadful risk he ran to himself. Our 
 traveling was very slow. The poor horses were very weak ; they could 
 hardly walk, and their feet sank in the sand at every step. The 
 wagons also sank deep, so that it was almost impossible for the poor, 
 dumb, patient, weak horses to pull them. We encamped as the sun 
 went down. There was silence in the camp; there was no more busy, 
 bustling preparation for dinner; we had no food, no water. Our tents
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 157 
 
 were pitched, and we lay down. I would not have given "my king- 
 dom for a horse," but I would have given all I possessed for a drink 
 of water. Our bullocks strayed away in the night looking for water, 
 and delayed us a long time looking for them. Thus far our party kept 
 pretty well together. If we scattered somewhat in the day, we always 
 mustered at sundown. 
 
 The heads of the party held a consultation, and it was decided to 
 divide into four companies. His Excellency with his aid-de-camp and 
 orderly were to go one way. Captain Inman and a mounted trooper to 
 go another, and Captain and Mrs. Sturt and Miss Julia to go another. 
 The wagon that I was on was given in charge to my two disagreeable 
 countrymen. All were to look for water, but to press steadily on. 
 We were to follow in Captain Sturt's trail, the small feet of Miss Julia's 
 pony were to guide us, and we were all to meet at a certain place at 
 sundown. The agony that I suffered that day was fearful. When 
 Miss Julia kissed me good-bye, and mounted her pony and rode off, I 
 said farewell with a feeling that we should meet no more on earth. I 
 was realizing what dying in a desert for want of water was. I was 
 lifted upon the wagon more dead than alive. I had a raging headache. 
 My brain seemed as if it were boiling. I turned on my face. I was 
 perfectly quiet. I thought my moments were numbered. On all sides 
 the desert — the hot, burning desert, the lonely, silent desert, the shin- 
 ing, waterless desert. This was what we were passing through. My 
 two countrymen had gained some experience on the trip they had with 
 Captain Sturt. They were able to endure more now than they could do 
 
 then. Mr. King had lost his horse, and Mr. C put his as an 
 
 extra horse to the wagon to help it along, and the two gentlemen 
 walked. A hot wind was sweeping over the plain, uninterrupted by 
 hill or tree, and we felt all its fury. What suffering I endured that 
 day no tongue can tell. Nothing passed before our agonized vision, 
 no sound fell upon our ears. Indeed, every sound of insect, or song 
 of bird, would have been strangely out of harmony in such a place. 
 Everything had retired from the withering heat and blinding glare. 
 Silence, the most profound and death-like, reigned — a fit companion 
 for such desolation. It was terrible. We journeyed on that day — a 
 day never to be forgotten — heeding not the smiting sunlight, nor heat, 
 nor hunger, nor thirst, nor fatigue, nor danger, thinking that death 
 would soon release one at least of the gasping, weary wayfarers. The 
 plain over which we were passing seemed interminable. We came 
 across a tent which belonged to a party who had come from New
 
 158 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 South Wales with horses and cattle. They had seen trouble by the 
 way. Their provisions were all gone, but they had wine and spirits. 
 
 Mr. C asked me if I could take anything. I answered, with great 
 
 effort : 
 
 "Fresh water." 
 
 They had none. Would I take wine ? I shook my head. Would 
 I take a little spirits mixed with the salt-water ? I shook my head. 
 My tongue was cleaving to my mouth. I could not speak. They 
 brought me a pint pannikin full of porter; it was not fiery or salt, and 
 when once I had put it to my mouth I drank it all up, and wanted 
 more, but they were afraid to give me more ; they feared that I had 
 taken too much already. I was beginning to be out of my mind, and 
 could I have got it, I should have drunk a gallon. Of course, it 
 would have killed me, as water killed the poor horse Georgie. I was 
 incapable of the least exertion. Fearful were my sufferings; they 
 thought I was about to die. I called for my mother, and then lay 
 down again on my face. I lay more dead than alive. The day was 
 far spent, and we had not overtaken the captain, as we ought to have 
 
 done before that time. Mr. C and Mr. R were talking in 
 
 deep, earnest tones, and in alarm. One of them called to me. I tried 
 to raise my head, but the effort was dreadful. He pointed to the sun, 
 which was far out on his western journey. I saw his broad and lurid 
 face approaching the horizon, which seemed to be an ocean of fire. I 
 laid my head down again ; I could not hold it up. These two brave 
 young men seemed to be in great trouble about something, but I took 
 no interest in it, or in anything. Finally they told me they were lost. 
 
 "Lost!" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, lost," they repeated. "We have followed the pony's tracks 
 till we find it is not with the horses, and we can find nothing of Cap- 
 tain Sturt's tracks at all, nor any of the other parties, which were all 
 to meet ere this time. What shall we do?" 
 
 I was asked this question by Mr. R . I had no answer to give, 
 
 for I knew not what was to be done. Lost ! lost in a desert drear, 
 alone with seven men. I could not realize the situation, though I 
 heard all that was said. I felt that I must die in a very short time, 
 and it was of very little consequence where I was. The young men 
 asked me what they should do ; if I said the word, they would travel 
 all night, or if I wished, they would camp at once by a clump of trees 
 they saw in the distance. I told them, as well as I could, to do what 
 they thought best; I could not tell them what to do. This did not
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 
 
 ^59 
 
 suit them; they were evidently very uneasy. They explained and 
 said, that if they were out of the right course, as they feared they 
 were, if they went on all night they might never get back to the right 
 course, but if they halted now, they could retrace their steps in the 
 early light, and try and find the lost tracks of the others. 
 
 "But you must give the order to halt or proceed; you are a great 
 responsibility to us, and were anything to happen to you we must take 
 the consequences, and we fear," said Mr. R . 
 
 I could not understand their fear, or their responsibility, when that 
 morning everybody thought that I must die before night, and what 
 did it all amount to? But they urged me to say what was to be done, 
 and I said: 
 
 "Halt at the first convenient spot." 
 
 And when we reached the clump of trees we halted. I was lifted 
 very carefully to the ground and covered with a cloak as with a pall, 
 and he who covered me thoil^ht that that cloak would be my winding- 
 sheet, and he covered me very tenderly, as a kind nurse would cover 
 
 a sleeping child, to be left there till the resurrection morn. Mr. S , 
 
 our taxidermist, and Mr. R were putting up the marquee for me, 
 
 while Mr. C had taken a gun in hand to see if perhaps he could 
 
 shoot a parrot or cockatoo for supper. Isaac, who drove me tandem 
 the first two days out, went to make a fire to give a light to the camp. 
 The bullock drivers were all busy with their beasts ; poor, thirsty, tired 
 things, they slaked or tried to slake their thirst at a little mudhole 
 the size of a man's hand, from which salt-water oozed. While all 
 this was going on, I was thinking, or imagining, that I was at home 
 with my mother; I was sick and she was nursing me, oh, how ten- 
 derly. Then she thrust me from her, and I did not know' where I 
 was, and presently I would hear men's voices as if in a dream. Then 
 I would try and call, 
 
 "Oh, mother." 
 
 But no mother's ear was near to hear the dying cry; no kind nurse 
 even to smooth my pillow — I had no pillow — not even one of my own 
 sex near to close my eyes. To die alone in the desert, far, far away 
 from home ! What would my mother think, did she know that her 
 child perished in the wilderness for want of food and water. To die 
 so young, well, that is well; but if I could only see my mother; and 
 I sobbed aloud. My mind wandered back and forth. I was weary 
 and committed myself to God, and was composed. As I lay there, a 
 promise, by whom written, or where recorded, I knew not, entered
 
 l6o THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 my mind and remained there. It was: "Thy bread shall be given 
 thee, and thy water shall be sure." Here am I dying in the wilder- 
 ness for want of bread and water, and this new thought haunts me. 
 Surely God has sent this thought to give me hope. Long after that 
 night I read in the 23d chapter of Isaiah, i6th verse: "Bread shall 
 be given him, his water shall be sure." I became inspired with the 
 idea that I should not die for want of bread and water. This thought 
 clung to me. I heard a tremendous report as if a gun had been fired 
 over me. I uncovered my head, and to my great horror saw poor 
 Isaac crawling toward me on his hands and knees, with blood pouring 
 from his face. Mr. C , with gun in hand, was standing near by. 
 
 "Oh," I exclaimed, "C has shot Isaac through the head." 
 
 Where the strength came from I know not, but I sprang to my 
 
 feet and was at Mr. C 's side in a twinkling, took hold of his arm, 
 
 and cried : 
 
 "Oh, Mr. C , have you shot Isaac?" 
 
 Just as I laid hold of his arm, I heard him exclaim ; 
 
 "Good God, what was that?" 
 
 I left him, and went to poor Isaac, who was still crawling toward 
 where I had lain. I took him by the shoulders, and pulled him back 
 upon his back on the ground, and bent over him, and took one of his 
 eyeballs, that was lying on his cheek, into my hand, and put it into its 
 socket. His face was all torn, his nose split, and his right cheek torn 
 right off; he was dreadfully mangled. Just then I felt strong arms 
 
 around me, I was lifted right up, and carried by Mr. R to where 
 
 I had been lying, and again laid down. 
 
 "That is no sight for you, miss," he said. 
 
 I felt all the strength leave my body, and was as weak as I had been 
 a short time before. The supernatural strength, that for a minute or 
 two had been lent me, was gone, and I was perfectly helpless. Mr. 
 
 C asked me to let them have the rum to wash Isaac's wounds. I 
 
 told them to take it, but I did not know where it was. They knew, 
 but wanted my permission. Isaac had been about to make a fire; 
 struck a flint, and was pouring some powder from a flask on the 
 spark, when it ignited, burst the flask into shivers, and sent powder 
 and bullets about Isaac's head, chest and arms with terrible force. His 
 wounds were dressed as well as the circumstances would allow, but he 
 
 could not live till morning, so thought all the party. Mr. C asked 
 
 me if I would let them lay Isaac in one end of the marquee, as they 
 did not think he could live many hours. Of course, I allowed them.
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. l6l 
 
 They thought that when they started next morning, they would have 
 two corpses to leave in the desert instead of one. The poor fellow was 
 carried into the shelter of the tent. The man who had made the Cur- 
 rency Creek damper had never forgiven me for despising his work; he 
 was vindictive, and he sat at the camp-fire, the very incarnation of 
 malignity. While he thought that I was helpless and dying, he was 
 indulging in coarse jokes. 
 
 "The dainty miss would be glad of a piece of my damper, but she 
 may die without it. She wont be able to help herself to-night, as I go 
 in and out of the tent. Ha! ha! I have a grudge against her. Ha! 
 ha! " and the fiend laughed. 
 
 **0 God, spread thy covering wing around me, and take me home 
 in peace, and save me," was my mental cry. 
 
 The wretch did not know I heard him, nor did he know another 
 
 heard him, till Mr. R like lightning sprang from the tent door and 
 
 confronted the caitiff, with his handsome face all ablaze with anger, and 
 his eyes glowing like coals. He took a most threatening attitude, 
 and said : 
 
 "At your peril, enter, or attempt to enter, that tent to-night, and I 
 will shoot you dead on the spot." 
 
 "Oh, sir," said the craven, "I was anxious to wait on Isaac, for you 
 know he ought to be waited on." 
 
 "Mr. C and I will keep watch and ward, one inside and one 
 
 outside, all night," said Mr. R . 
 
 At that moment a pony ran past us, then doubled on its track and 
 ran round the tent, with a broken bridle trailing on the ground, and a 
 saddle hanging under its body. When I saw the pony running fran- 
 tically past, I cried out: 
 
 "Merciful Father, that is Julia's pony, and she is killed. What is 
 to become of us all? And Mrs. Sturt, where is she ? She has no tent 
 to cover her. Oh, dear Julia, I thought you would be restored safe to 
 your mother's arms, who would have been happy to receive you. She 
 will regret giving you for a sacrifice to government policy." 
 
 I thought of my mother, and groaned. Oh, what mental agony and 
 physical pain I had to endure that night. When all had parted with 
 me the previous morning, they thought I must die, and I was indiffer- 
 ent as to life or death; I thought all was well with me any way. But 
 a rush of events had come thick and fast since noon, and it seemed to 
 be impossible for me to be indifferent, or insensible to the fate of others. 
 I had often heard it said, that troubles do not come singly, but in 
 II
 
 l62 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 troops. This may be a wise ordination of Providence. One great 
 trouble unhinges the springs of the mind; another, and another comes, 
 and we are compelled to think, and through thinking and suffering, we 
 regain our equilibrium. I did more thinking that night than I had 
 done for some time before. First I thought of being lost in a vast 
 desert, alone with seven men, without food or water; then I saw evi- 
 dent consternation in the officers of our party at our condition, which 
 was most painful. In addition, was the horrible spectacle of poor 
 Isaac; and again. Miss Julia's pony rushing by, and her uncertain 
 fate. Indeed, the uncertainty of the whole party, and then the mean 
 craven by the camp-fire with his coarse speech, and the sudden 
 transformation of a man from being disliked, because of a light, jeering 
 tone he had always used toward me when I was surrounded by friends, 
 to a very guardian angel, a protector and a friend, when I most needed 
 one. When sick, helpless and alone, surrounded by danger, he stood 
 forth a noble character between it and me. My heart thanked God 
 
 for his protecting care. Mr. C spread my mattress, and Mr. 
 
 R carried me to it, and laid me down as gently as a tender mother 
 
 could have done. He untied the strings of my torn bonnet, and took 
 it off my head, and he untied my worn boots, and covered me up, and 
 left me to sleep or to die; but I did neither. The pony was caught, 
 and a gentleman's saddle was found hanging to it; so it was not Julia's. 
 
 I lay on one side of the tent, and Isaac on the other, in the dark- 
 ness. After a while, R and C came into the _glooni with a 
 
 shaded light, and sat down on the ground beside the dying man. One 
 asked him if he were afraid to die. The answer came faint and low, 
 but in earnest tones: "I fear not to die." Another question: "Do 
 you think you are going to die?" "I fear I am." "Are you pre- 
 pared to die?" "I do not know," 
 
 Mr. C went to watch outside, while Mr. R took from his 
 
 pocket a small, well-worn Bible, a mother's gift, and began to read, 
 both from the Psalrris and the New Testament, and prayed for the dy- 
 ing man. The tones were tremulous, but full of pathos. No poet, no 
 painter, could color to the mind or eye a brighter or darker picture 
 than was the reality before me. One man, lying on his back on the 
 ground, with clasped hands reverently raised, his head entirely envel- 
 oped in bandages, moaning hopelessly, nothing bright in the future of 
 time, or eternity for him. On the floor stood a dim light between him 
 and another man in the strength and beauty of young manhood, kneel- 
 ing with bowed head, supplicating the Divine Father, to prepare the
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 1 63 
 
 Other for death, and to give him peace and hope ere his lamp of life 
 went out. 
 
 I, on the other side, in deep shadow, bowed in spirit before my 
 heavenly Father, asking him to shelter my soul, and give me a cheer- 
 ful hope in passing away. Mr. C now took his turn to watch in- 
 side beside the wounded man, while the other went out. Neither of 
 these two looked toward the darkness wherein I was shrouded. They 
 knew they could do nothing to help me, and their delicacy prevented 
 them speaking to me. They both knew how heartily I had disliked 
 them for their teasing propensities, and they did not now intrude on 
 my silence. They did not know what a revolution had been wrought 
 on my heart and mind toward them in the last few hours. I now 
 looked upon them as friends, and brothers, and guardians, for the time 
 being. I saw them in their true character now. As the night advanced, 
 I felt no inclination to sleep, and I felt less like dying than I did the 
 last three days. I thought of all God's mercies to me in the midst of 
 perils. He did not cleave the rock that water might flow for me 
 to quench my burning thirst, but he gave me strength to bear it with- 
 out repining. ' ' Thy bread shall be given, and thy water shall be sure, ' ' 
 again and again rang through my thoughts. I have often wondered 
 why I did not die that night. Day dawned; Isaac and I were both 
 alive, and, wonderful to relate, were both able to rise without help. I 
 fastened my worn boots on my feet, and my torn bonnet on my head, 
 and my toilet was complete. I stepped out of the tent to the great 
 surprise of all, and especially of myself. My two new made friends 
 were delighted to see me on my feet again. The sun, as he shot his 
 rays above the eastern horizon, promised no mercy from his blinding 
 glare or scorching heat. My prayer, as I stood at the tent door next 
 morning, was, that God might give me strength to endure whatever was 
 before me on my journey. 
 
 The tent was taken down, and was being packed, and I was ready 
 to be lifted to my place on top, when we found that the bullocks had 
 strayed away looking for water. While waiting for them, I saw two 
 black specks in the distance. They were moving; they came nearer 
 and nearer to us, and, Oh, joy ! I discovered Captain Sturt as one of 
 the objects, but could not run to meet him ; the other was a savage. 
 Both were mounted. As soon as they came near enough to speak. 
 Captain Sturt's salutation to the officers of the party was: 
 
 "Where the d— 1 have you been since yesterday morning?"
 
 164 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 They explained how they had lost their way in following a wrong 
 track. 
 
 "Eliza," and the irate captain looked straight into my eyes while 
 he spoke; "Did these men lose their way designedly, or accidentally?" 
 
 I had no hesitation in saying accidentally. Again he asked : 
 
 "Were they drunk or sober?" 
 
 "Perfecdy sober," I responded. Again he asked: 
 
 ' ' Are you perfecdy satisfied with their conduct toward you since we 
 parted?" 
 
 I thought for a moment of the craven who sat by the fire, and won- 
 dered what I should say of him. The captain thought I hesitated, and 
 he thundered out: 
 
 "Answer me, child.'' 
 
 I thought of my two brave protectors, and answered fearlessly : 
 
 "I am satisfied; a sister could not have been better cared for." 
 
 "That is well, I am glad to hear it," said the captain. Looking at 
 
 Mr R and Mr. C , "It is well for you that it is so; had it 
 
 been otherwise, it would not have been well for you." 
 
 Captain Sturt lost his way the day before, and did not meet the 
 others at the rendezvous appointed, and he had met with a frightful 
 accident. His horse threw him against a tree with great violence, he 
 was stunned, and his face cut and bruised in a dreadful way. His 
 head was bandaged, both eyes were black and swollen; he did not 
 look himself at all. His rough salutation was so sudden that I had 
 had no time to remark on his appearance or Isaac's misfortune, or how 
 I had been resuscitated to life, such as it was. Captain Sturt laughed 
 incredulously when I told him that I put Isaac's eyeball into its socket. 
 
 "If I had done that, the sight would be gone," he said. 
 
 "It is so then, for assuredly I put it in," I said. 
 
 He affected not to believe that Isaac was so much injured. 
 
 He said the ladies and himself had a terrible day, but toward night 
 they had met an overland party, who had plenty of provisions, and 
 who had given up a tent for the use of the ladies, so they were as well 
 as they could be under the circumstances. 
 
 "But they were so anxious about you that I borrowed the over- 
 lander's black boy to track you and find you dead or alive, dead we 
 expected. We sent Bob back on our own tracks to where you left 
 them, and made a pretty fair calculation where to find you. We 
 ■crossed the country seven miles." 
 
 The bullocks were found, and I was lifted to my seat on the wagon.
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 165 
 
 I was able to sit. The captain asked how I came to be so much bet- 
 ter, had I had any food ? I said I had not eaten anything, but that I 
 drank a pannikin nearly full of porter. 
 
 "You little goose, that is impossible in your weakened, starving 
 state; that much porter would have killed you." 
 
 "But," I said, "it did not kill me, for I am living and better than I 
 was yesterday." 
 
 "You are a most extraordinary girl. You are imagining all sorts of 
 things this morning, but we will soon be where you can get food, poor 
 child. You have had a hard time." 
 
 The captain thought my mind was wandering, but it was not. 
 
 After seven miles' travel I saw a large tent, out of which ran Julia, 
 and she was ready as soon as I alighted to throw her arms round me 
 and kiss me, and we both cried. 
 
 "Oh, Eliza, I though you were dead! I am so glad you are alive! 
 Where have you been? I have not seen Pa yet. We were all lost, 
 and we were all so anxious about you; I am so glad to see you." 
 
 She certainly seemed glad to see me, but I could not stand long on 
 my feet, so was taken into the tent. I was asked what I would have ? 
 
 "Fresh water," was my answer. 
 
 Water was given to me, but it was brackish, and I could not drink 
 it. They gave me tea made of it, but it made me sick to drink it. I 
 tried to eat a piece of half-cooked kangaroo, but I lacked strength to 
 tear it with my teeth. I did not feel the pangs of hunger half as much 
 now as I did three days before. Water was my great need. The 
 captain laughingly told his wife that I imagined that I had drunk a 
 pint of porter yesterday. 
 
 "Impossible!" cried both ladies at once. 
 
 "W^ell, I know I drank a pint pannikin nearly full, and I am better 
 now than I was before I drank it." 
 
 Isaac came in view with his head tied up. I was asked what had 
 happened to him? I told them the circumstances, with the addition, 
 that Isaac would never recover the sight of the eye. At this the cap- 
 tain gave me a very sharp rebuke. I was silenced for the time ; but 
 poor Isaac was a disfigured man, and blind of that eye all his days, 
 which were not many after that. 
 
 Since we left the Murray the thermometer had stood from 149° to 
 152°. We entered upon a hilly country. We crossed a ridge or 
 range of hills very singular in appearance, being formed of great slabs, 
 piled one on top of another. High mountains were seen in the dis-
 
 1 66 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tance. The equestrians as usual led the van, and took a wider range 
 than our party; they were looking for the governor. We espied a 
 tent; we were crossing the trail of an advance party of overlanders 
 from New South Wales. We found this tent, and the one Captain and 
 Mrs. Sturt occupied the night before, belonged to the same party. I 
 was asked to alight and rest under the shade of a tent for a while. 
 This I did, hoping to get some water. It was a vain hope. I saw a 
 gentleman's shaving-glass hanging against the tent-pole. I had not 
 seen my face for a week, as our glasses were all broken. My curiosity 
 was so great to see how I looked, that I reached up for the glass and 
 brought it to the level of my face. Whether from weakness or fright 
 at my own gipsy-like appearance, I will not say, the glass fell from my 
 hands at my feet in a thousand pieces. In the glass I did not recog- 
 nize myself I was so brown. My hair hanging in tangled strings ; I 
 had neither combs nor hair-pins. My bonnet was dangling over my face 
 in strips of chip, and I had no needles or thread to mend it. My 
 clothes were very untidily put on, for I had no pins to keep them in 
 place; they were tied on the best way they could be. I was never 
 pretty, so my mother had always said, so I do not think vanity 
 prompted me to look at myself. But that very day one of my new- 
 made friends, my handsome young countryman, told me, of all the 
 girls he ever saw, he admired me the most, yea, that he loved me 
 more than he could tell, and above all things he would like to have 
 me for a wife. All this from him was quite unexpected. I wished to 
 see what had attracted him so suddenly, for till we left the river we 
 had never spoken a pleasant word to each other. I was shocked at 
 my own appearance, so I could testify that no outward attraction 
 prompted the proposal. I could not replace the glass in the desert, 
 but I promised to replace it when I reached Adelaide, if ever I reached 
 that city. We journeyed on long after sundown. We had the light of 
 the moon to travel by, and the parties were to rendezvous at Gawlor, a 
 town thirty miles from Adelaide, if possible, that night. When our 
 party reached the camping-place, we found all the parties, not one of 
 which had not lost his way and suffered considerably. I was weak 
 and weary, and lay down on the ground. Captain Sturt came to me 
 with a little milk and water, and gave me a few sips from a teaspoon, 
 I told him I wanted a big drink, for a large stream of water ran by, 
 not far from the camp, but he said I must only sip a litde at a time. 
 He had to watch me, or I should have drunk too much, at least would 
 have drunk till satisfied. Our tents were struck before the sun rose
 
 AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 1 67 
 
 or jnounted the hills we had crossed. We had now a level plain of 
 thirty miles to cross. This plain is bounded on the east by a range 
 of hills, and on the west by the Gulf of St. Vincent. Fresh horses 
 were obtained at Gawlor town, and the equestrians rode off, my party 
 bringing up the rear. I had not strength to ride horseback, so I took 
 my old place on the wagon. The bullock dray on which Isaac rode 
 broke down, and I was asked to let him ride in the wagon with me, 
 which I did. We traveled to within a mile of Adelaide, when the 
 wheel of the right side of the wagon broke all to pieces, and we had 
 a let-down, and the horses began to prance and showed signs of fear; 
 so I was lifted to the ground in a hurry by the strong arms of Mr. 
 
 R , while Mr. C took hold of the horses. Thanks to a kind 
 
 heavenly Father we were nearly home when this last accident befell 
 us; but short as was the distance, how were we to travel it? I was 
 weak and could not walk without support. Isaac was blind and could 
 not see, so I took his arm and said : 
 
 "If you will support me, I shall lead you into town." 
 
 And so we walk away, the weak leading the blind. The sun had 
 been down some time, the moon had not yet risen, but our paths was 
 lit up by the city lights. ^Miat a contrast was our return to our start- 
 ing out five or six weeks before. Then a brighter, happier party could 
 not be found than we were; now we were broken down, wayworn, 
 and minus one of the brightest young men of the party. The heads 
 of departments say that much good to the colony will result from this 
 exploration. Time will tell. 
 
 As soon as we reached Government House, Isaac was taken charge 
 of by those of his own department. Mrs. Gawlor, who was expect- 
 ing me, and had been waiting for me, wished me to stay at Govern- 
 ment House all night, as there was no carriage or driver who could 
 take me home; but I asked for water and permission to walk home. 
 I had a superb draught of fresh water. Oh, it was grand, and I felt 
 strong to walk another mile. I said good-night, and started toward 
 home. Never in all my life had I enjoyed a draught of fresh water, 
 or did I know its value, as I did that night. I had no appetite for 
 eating, but no hart ever panted for water more than I did. I won- 
 dered if ever I could have enough of the limpid liquid to drink. 
 
 That last mile that I had to walk was long and dreary. I passed 
 here and there a house; here and there a store or shop; here and there 
 an open space. It was Saturday night, and I passed a shop where men 
 were busy atVork. I was utterly exhausted, and I leaned up against
 
 1 68 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the side of the door, and asked for a drink of water, which the master 
 of the estabhshment politely gave me. I knew him, but he did not 
 recognize me. My brown face and brown, gloveless hands, my torn 
 bonnet hanging dangling over a mass of tangled hair, a little black 
 Thibet shawl crossed on my breast and tied behind, to hide my ragged 
 dress, which was literally torn off my back. My boots were tied round 
 my feet, to keep soles and uppers together. My feet were cut and 
 bleeding. I was unable to move from the sidd of the door, lest I should 
 fall. I was not able to proceed, and I had the fourth of a mile to walk 
 yet. The gentleman who had given me the water noticed that I still 
 stood, and he asked me if he could do any more for me. I asked if he 
 did not know me. He just then recognized my voice. 
 
 " Oh, come in, and sit down," and here followed apologies for not 
 knowing me sooner. 
 
 "Take me home, please," I said; "I am so faint and weary I can 
 not walk alone." 
 
 He gave me his arm at once, and supported me home. I told where 
 we had been. When I reached home, I went into Mrs. and Captain 
 Sturt's bedroom, where they lay enveloped in everythmg pure and 
 clean and white. They laughed heartily at my gipsy-like appearance. 
 They told me that I should find everything in my room that would 
 make me comfortable, and to hasten thither. My room and bed looked 
 very inviting; but, oh, the pitcher and bath-tub full of fresh water de- 
 lighted me. I drank till I was satisfied, then had a refreshing bath, 
 ate a few mouthfuls of a dainty supper, and returned thanks to God 
 for all his mercies, not the least of which were bread and water. ' ' Thy 
 bread shall be given, and thy water shall be sure." Here and now 
 I realized the fulfillment of the promise, that came to me like an in- 
 spiration, when I was laid down in the desert to die for both. There 
 was neither bread sent down from heaven, nor water given from a 
 smitten rock; but we were led the right way to the city of our habita- 
 tion. My heart was full of gratitude. " It is a good thing to give 
 thanks to God." I laid me down, and slept soundly and well, and 
 rose late, perfectly refreshed, but brown as a berry. I dressed for 
 church, to the great astonishment of Captain, Mrs. Sturt and myself. 
 "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." 
 Several righteous men had been praying for me, that I might return in 
 safety. In answer to their prayers, I presented myself at church. My 
 return was hailed with joy. 
 
 So ended this exploring expedition. It was a chapter of accidents 
 and adventures from beginning to end.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 
 
 Who can estimate the perils of youthful maidenhood? With a heart 
 brimful of love to God and all created things, animate and inanimate, 
 looking up to man as the grandest of created beings, I was enthusias- 
 tically confiding, and of a happy disposition. I was driven out to bat- 
 tle ^vith a cold and treacherous world; and, though my pathway lay 
 not in the fierceness of public temptation, at least, it was the path of 
 solitary and secret struggles. Oh, with what bitterness of spirit was 
 my pride and modesty pressed back unspoken into my inexperienced 
 and enduring heart, when the libertine addresses were spoken sofdy, 
 
 tenderly in my unwilling ear, by E n S 1. We were walking 
 
 toward home, through a natural avenue of forest trees in the center of 
 the city, when he dared to whisper words which cut like a dirk. I 
 was mute from surprise, fear, wounded pride, and insulted modesty. 
 I looked straight toward home; then darted from his side like an arrow 
 from a bow, and made for home with the fleetness of a hunted deer. 
 My nature shrank from the very idea of any one daring to think a dis- 
 honorable thought, or speak a dishonorable word to me. I thought 
 the sacred name of orphan would be a protection. I was made to feel 
 that the wiles of the wicked tempter had no regard to the sacred name. 
 I greatly feared this soft-toned, smooth-faced young gentleman ever 
 after. When he came to the house, I fled from his presence, as if he 
 had been a serpent. I was ashamed to tell Captain Sturt of his younger 
 brother's insulting language to me: had I done so, a severe reproof at 
 least would have been administered to the audacious offender. Had 
 I told Mrs. Sturt, she would have been slow to believe that her darling 
 could do wrong. So I had to keep silence, and nurse my wounded 
 feelings. "The Lord, to whom I looked, was my shield and protector. 
 He made me to dwell in safety." E n S 1 took sick, or pre- 
 tended to be sick, at our house. (He lived at a hotel while in the 
 colony.) His sister was most attentive to him, setting me an example, 
 for she wished me to nurse him well also; but this I resolved I should 
 not do. She gave me something to carry to him once, but I did not 
 
 (169)
 
 1 7© THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 take it to him; I sent it. I was again sent to his room. This time I 
 told Mrs. Sturt that I had not been, nor did I intend, to wait on Mr. 
 
 S . She demanded a reason; I gave her none. This was put 
 
 down to the score of rank disobedience. Captain S was informed 
 
 of my willful conduct, and he asked me : 
 
 * ' Eliza, why do you not put your best foot foremost to oblige Evy, 
 as you used to do?" 
 
 With illy suppressed tears in my eyes, I said: "I do not wish to do 
 anything for him at all." 
 
 "Well," said the kind captain, "You shall do nothing for him, if 
 you do not wish to do it." 
 
 Thus I was released from a disagreeable position, but I had much 
 to endure from Mrs. Sturt' s harsh temper. I bowed my neck to the 
 yoke, and struggled on. 
 
 The / P arrived, and the master brought my trunks; and 
 
 so careful of them was he, that he brought them in his own cabin, for 
 which courtesy Mrs. Sturt told him he had taken too much trouble. 
 
 Said Captain (captain by way of courtesy) : Oh, no; not too 
 
 much trouble, madam, I should like to take more on myself; and, if 
 you do not object, I shall carry the trunks, with their owner, back to 
 Sydney with me. I should like to have Eliza for a wife, and, if you 
 will allow, I shall address her." v 
 
 Mrs. Sturt was quite taken aback by this speech and proposal, and 
 before Captain Sturt could say one word, she said she positively ob- 
 jected to Captain addressing me at present. She said I was too 
 
 young, too thoughtless, and the fact was, she could not spare me then. 
 
 "Well, I shall wait till my next voyage is over, then I will ask her 
 to be my mate," said Captain . 
 
 He left the colony, and though he did not address me, I thought he 
 had a preference for me. But this was to me only a proof of kindness 
 and friendship, and, as a friend, I esteemed him. Weeks, months 
 passed, / P was again expected. Mrs. Sturt told me Cap- 
 tain was going to be married to a lady in Sydney. I said, I 
 
 wished him all happiness, I thought he deserved to be happy. He re- 
 turned to the colony unmarried, to claim me from my guardians, and 
 he was told that on the morrow I was to be led to the altar by another. 
 I shall not describe what followed this announcement. When Cap- 
 tain left, I heard Captain Sturt chide his wife more severely 
 
 than I ever heard before. He said:
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 171 
 
 ''Why did you not allow Captain to address Eliza? You 
 
 know how he loved her, and the match was eligible." 
 
 "I care not for the eligibility of the thing," said his excited wife, 
 "I had determined that they should not marry." 
 
 "What," said Captain Sturt, "if Eliza loves him, as we know he 
 loves her? You make two persons unhappy by your intriguing." 
 
 "I tell you, Charles, I had determined that they should not marry, 
 and I care not whether they be happy or not," said his angry wife. 
 
 Then for the first time I knew the petty perfidy that had been prac- 
 ticed on me. I had no desire to alter matters now. But had this 
 woman been like her husband, and, without intrigue, let matters take 
 their natural course, it might have been better for me, God knows. 
 As it was, I never had a preference for anyone. I was so circum- 
 vented by Mrs. Sturt that I could not but accept Mr. Davies, though 
 I had refused him on the night of my arrival from the Murray, when 
 he walked home with me. He was Mrs. Sturt' s choice for me, and if 
 I did not love him with all my heart, I certainly loved no one else. 
 Mrs. Sturt had told me that I loved and wished to marry some one 
 else. I told her there was no truth in this assertion, and she knew 
 that I did not wish to marry anyone at all, but she persisted in her 
 unjust assertions. I said to her : 
 
 "How can I prove to you how unjust you are?" 
 
 "By marrying the first man who asks you," she answered. 
 
 "Oh," I said, "that will be doing the very thing I do not wish to 
 do." 
 
 "So you can not prove it by this. Ha! ha!" 
 
 Her taunting manner I could not brook, and my inexperienced 
 youth was no match for her intriguing French ways. I told her I 
 could prove to her that she was wrong, and I would by doing as she 
 wished, though I did not wish it myself. That day she sent for Mr. 
 Davies on business, then he called for me and asked me to be his 
 wife. I was so astonished at this that I could give him no answer at 
 the time, though he was very urgent. He gave me one day to think 
 of it; any respite was a relief. I told Mrs. Sturt. 
 
 "You will marry him of course," she said. 
 
 "I refused him once, and I do not like to accept him now; I have 
 not changed my mind concerning him," said I. 
 
 "Then you must marry him, you said you would marry the first 
 who asked you, and he is in every way suitable for you; he is at the 
 head of a flourishing business, has money and property, and though
 
 172 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 young, he is older than yourself, he is nearly*twenty-one years of age." 
 
 I was completely entangled in her net. I told her I had nothing 
 against her favorite, only I disliked the idea of marrying a man I had 
 so positively refused. She laughed at this. 
 
 It had been written : "Be not unequally yoked with unbelievers." 
 I did not know whether Mr. Davies was an unbeliever; if he was, I 
 would refuse him again, even in the face of taunts and jeers. Mr. 
 D satisfied me that he was not only a believer, but a good Meth- 
 odist. I told him I did not think I could go to the Methodist Church 
 with him. He said that made no difference, for he intended to go 
 with me, as he had a great respect for the Baptists, and that nothing 
 should ever be put in the way to*prevent me discharging my church 
 duties. These preliminaries settled, I consented to be his wife. 
 
 "When?" I was asked. 
 
 I had consented to marry, and I was indifferent as to the time. In 
 three weeks my fate was sealed. I little thought of rushing into 
 matrimony when Mrs. Sturt forced me into saying I would marry the 
 first who asked me. She had determined that I should marry Mr. 
 D . I was pressed down and hedged in so that escape or re- 
 treat was impossible, even if desired. I went through the pro- 
 cess of preparing for the important event as one in a dream. Though 
 I was one of the chief actors in the drama, I did not know my part. 
 On the last night of my stay at Captain Sturt' s house, I retired early 
 and took a retrospective view of my whole life while under its shelter. 
 The captain had been uniformly kind and considerate; had taken a 
 fatherly interest in me and care of me. He never knew why I shunned 
 his brother, otherwise a severe reproof would have been administered. 
 Mrs. Sturt had not always been kind or even just, but I was going to 
 leave her, and I forgave her all ; I was going to the shelter of another 
 house, which would be my own. This seemed so strange to me, and 
 still more strange, the idea that I was to be married and have a strong 
 arm to lean on for support and protection evermore. Was this all? 
 No ; I had a part to perform, and I was totally ignorant of that part. 
 The duties of a new life were thrust upon me, and I was totally igno- 
 rant of their import. In my ignorance and helplessness, I kneeled 
 down to my heavenly Father and prayed to him for help to know my 
 duties and responsibilities, and to give me a willing mind to perform 
 them faithfully in every particular, omitting nothing. I longed for a 
 mother's breast to sob out my difficulties on; but no mother was near 
 to sympathize in my struggles. I wept and prayed and sobbed myself
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 73 
 
 asleep. My bridesmaids dressed me for the marriage. I felt perfectly 
 quiet. My fine dress did not interest me ; I was thinking of the re- 
 sponsibilities of the new relationship into which I was about to enter. 
 I was oppressed with a weight I could not shake off. In wisdom, the 
 Almighty hides the deep secrets of futurity from mortal ken. Tremb- 
 ling like an aspen-leaf, and tears blinding my eyes, I was lead pas- 
 sively to the altar, where Rev. Mr. Howard, the Colonial Chaplain, 
 performed the ceremony. As I knelt at the altar, never in my life 
 had I sent up to the throne of God a more earnest heart-prayer than 
 on that occasion for grace to enable me to do my duty. Were "com- 
 ing events casting their shadows before?" How my heart would have 
 shrunk from saying, "for better, for worse," had a knowledge of the 
 "worse" fallen on it at the time. The imposing ceremony was over, 
 the witnesses' names recorded, and the whole party proceeded to the 
 
 Botanical Gardens. Mr. J , who had charge of them, was an 
 
 acquaintance of Mr. D 's, and conducted us over the grounds. 
 
 The party was as merry as such parties usually are; they gathered 
 round a litde sensitive-plant, and were enjoying a joke perpetrated by 
 
 Mr. J . Some one called me and asked me to touch the plant. 
 
 Another said : 
 
 "Do not touch it; it tells tales." 
 
 I touched it, and the little thing trembled all over. 
 
 "What is the tale it tells?" I asked. 
 
 "You have kissed your sweetheart within the last twenty-four hours," 
 they said. 
 
 This was all meant for a little fun; but I exclaimed: 
 
 "Your mimosa is a false tell-tale, for I never kissed a man in my 
 life." 
 
 I was not able to enter into the spirit of fun that day. In the even- 
 ing we dined at Mr. D 's, my future home. Wine circulated 
 
 freely. I saw Mr. D drink; at this I was surprised. All seemed 
 
 happy; I was perfectly quiet. I could not realize my situation. I 
 
 tried to be cheerful, but it was a great effort. Looking at Mr. D 
 
 once, I said mentally : 
 
 "I hope he will be kind to me, for I intend to make him such a 
 good wife." 
 
 Just then our eyes met, and oh! what a demon lurked in his eye; it 
 made me shudder with a strange foreljoding. I shuddered visibly; a 
 mountain weight of sadness lay on my heart. Mr. J tried to rally
 
 174 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 me on my sober looks. I wondered at him doing so, for I had heard 
 him whisper to his wife : 
 
 "That girl has not much chance for happiness." 
 
 I was perplexed; terror took hold of me. I knew not whether it 
 
 was ignorance of my duties or fear of Mr. D that troubled me, 
 
 or both combined. But my situation was not an enviable one. 
 
 Days passed. I began to feel a true and sincere affection for Mr. 
 
 D , without any powerful passion. I went to my Bible daily for 
 
 instructions. Paul, in writing to the Ephesians, says: "Wives, sub- 
 mit yourselves to your own husbands," etc. I resolved that nothing 
 on my part should be wanting to make our home happy. I took the 
 Bible, with my newly found instructions, to show him what they were, 
 and that I intended to follow the Divine instructions to the letter. I 
 said somewhat timidly : 
 
 "Mr. D , here are instructions for you also." 
 
 He closed the book rather abruptly. 
 
 Mr. D had three friends: Mr. E , an Irish Barrister, tall 
 
 and handsome, with an insinuating address ; Mr. S , a hardy Scot, 
 
 who was at the head of a large bakery, and whose sister sold the fancy 
 bread in a shop fitted up for that purpose, and Mr. L , an English- 
 man, who was a squatter. These four young men had left their native 
 land with plenty of money, which they invested in colonial property 
 with various results. They were often entertained at our house. They 
 were exceeding polite to me, but I did not like to see them drink so 
 
 much at the table. I told Mr. D that I did not like to see him 
 
 drink so much, if the others did. He gave me one of those strange 
 looks, which made me shrink from him; he then caught me by the 
 arm with a grip like a vise, and with a fascinating smile, asked me 
 what had frightened me. 
 
 "That strange look you gave me," I answered. "Please let go my 
 arm, you hurt it so." 
 
 Instead of which, he pinched me more tightly, till the pain brought 
 tears to my eyes, then he kissed me, and bowed himself, all smiles, 
 out of the room. This he did often. My arms were sadly discolored 
 by these dreadful grips. I was sorely puzzled to know what this all 
 meant. I wondered and pondered, but could not solve the riddle. 
 
 The Queen's birthday came just five weeks after our wedding. On 
 this day the aborigines, whose lands were being occupied by the 
 white man, were assembled on the Government House grounds, to 
 receive each a blanket to cover them when they came within the
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 75 
 
 white man's domain. It was amusing to see some of the Lubras when 
 they would have a dress given to themj they did not know how to put 
 it on. The women would push their feet through the sleeves and 
 gather the bottom of their skirt round their neck, and the men would 
 
 hang the pants round their shoulders. Mr. D took me to see the 
 
 Blacks feed, as he termed the feast which was spread out on the grounds 
 for them from the Government stores. We were sauntering along on 
 the terrace, I wondering whether these savages were better or worse 
 than those of the desert, when an elegantly dressed young gentleman 
 accosted me : 
 
 "How do you do. Miss Eliza." 
 
 For a moment I did not know who spoke to me; but I soon recog- 
 nized one of my fellow-voyagers of the Murray party. He was so glad 
 to see me he said; I shook hands with him, and was as glad to see 
 
 him. I introduced him to Mr. D . As I looked up to Mr. D 's 
 
 face, I saw the lurking demon in his eye; but immediately his face 
 was wreathed in smiles, and his manner charming. I trembled as he 
 aflfectionately drew my arm within his, with a pinch that made me nearly 
 
 scream. I was glad when Mr. B bowed good-bye. We walked on in 
 
 silence for a short time, when Mr. D met one of his friends, and 
 
 invited him home to dine with us. Every affectionate epithet was 
 showered on me on my way home, and he was attentive to me at home. 
 
 Mr. L remarked that I was very quiet. I said I was rather tired 
 
 with my long walk. Mr. D said, "as my little wife is tired, let us 
 
 take a walk." I begged them not to go out on my account. I wished 
 
 Mr. D to stay at home with me; I had a strange feeling of unrest. 
 
 My little maid had gone home to see her mother, and I was entirely 
 alone. I did not think I was afraid, but I could not account for the 
 
 strange sensations I felt. It was very late when Mr. D returned. 
 
 I was sitting in my room reading my Bible, when I heard a soft footfall 
 
 coming toward my room. How thoughtful of Mr. D to take off 
 
 his heavy Wellington boots; he thinks I sleep, and he does not wish 
 to'disturb me, I said mentally. I rose with a glad smile to meet him 
 as he came into the room, boots in hand, and the demon dancing in 
 his eyes. He, with a strong, outstretched arm, pushed me back to 
 my seat, and without one word spoken, or warning given, he struck 
 me several heavy blows on the head with his hea\'y-heeled boot. I 
 thought my brains were being knocked out. I gave one cry for mercy 
 from the infuriated man, but he had none. I cried to God to save me. 
 The boot that battered my head to jelly almost was caught in the window
 
 1 70 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 curtain, as it was raised with a fearful oath to give the finishing stroke. 
 The curtain was torn down, and flared out the hght, and we were in 
 total darkness. I sat with the curtain in my mouth to smother my cries, 
 but these cries were heard by one, who testified to the fact long after. 
 
 Mr. D threw himself on the bed exhausted with his fury. In the 
 
 morning, when he rose, he found me sitting where he left me, covered 
 with blood, my head fearfully cut and bruised. I sat all night long in 
 great bodily pain, my head throbbing fearfully; but my amazement was 
 
 still greater. My dread of Mr. D was agonizing. What had happened 
 
 to me? where could I flee for safety? Alas! alas! There I sat in the 
 midnight gloom with my tortured head and heart. Oh, mother, mother, 
 if you could only know what I am suffering! O God, help me to think 
 
 right, and to do right. Just five weeks since, Mr. D had promised, 
 
 at the altar before God and man, to love and cherish me as his own 
 self, my protector, my guide. O God, what have I yet to suffer? but 
 it matters little now. "What next I know not, do not care. Come 
 pain or pleasure, weal or woe; there's nothing which I can not bear, 
 since I have borne the withering blow." I knew not what to pray for. 
 "O God, if all others forsake me, do not thou abandon me in this unut- 
 terable woe." I thought, in my terror, that if I had a place to flee to 
 for safety, that I should never set foot within that dwelling again, 
 though I had resolved to make it a happy home, as far as was within 
 my power. But, alas! what could I do? where could I flee? I had 
 said before witnesses, that I would cleave only to him, through good 
 and evil report. I took him "for better for worse." Oh, the "worse," 
 how terrible! Hope almost abandoned me that night. When Mr. 
 
 D came to me, and took the curtain off my head, he started at the 
 
 ghastly sight. A great Wellington boot, with blood on it, and hair 
 lying near it, on the floor at my feet; my hair matted with blood; my 
 face and eyes blackened and swollen, but tearless. He looked so 
 sorry, and asked me to forgive him for his mad passion; he said he 
 was sorry for what he had done, and never would be guilty of such 
 conduct again. I could only forgive him, hoping that he was sincere; 
 but I could not help thinking that he had almost dealt a deathblow to 
 my earthly happiness. When I recovered, I asked him why he had 
 acted toward me so cruelly. He said he had no reason for it at all, 
 only he felt like doing it; but he said he did not know that he had 
 hurt me so badly. 
 
 Miss Gawlor called one day; she had some benevolent work on 
 hand, and she wished me to help her. She gave me a subscription
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 77 
 
 paper, and asked me to solicit subscriptions. I called Mr. D , and 
 
 told him what Miss Gawlor wished me to do. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Davies," said Miss Julia, "I know you will allow Eliza 
 to help me." 
 
 "Certainly, Miss Gawlor, nothing will give me more pleasure than 
 to make her go, if she is not willing, for lately she will not be per- 
 suaded to leave the house; she is a dear lover of home, my little pet," 
 
 said Mr. D in his blandest tones, as he patted me on the cheek, 
 
 and left the room. 
 
 His manner charmed and delighted Miss Julia. She was loud in his 
 praises. She said I was the happiest, as well as the most fortunate, of 
 human beings in having such a husband. She hoped I would be suc- 
 cessful, as Mr. D had taken such interest in her work. She left 
 
 the house with the idea that Mr. D was not only a model hus- 
 band, but a model man. There was a charm about his smile that was 
 well calculated to fascinate and deceive a stranger ; but, oh, how false 
 and hollow! Tliere was no heart- warmth, none of that open manli- 
 ness of character, which wins upon a frank and confiding nature. 
 
 Mr. D came to me as soon as Miss Julia was gone, and said, as 
 
 he sat down on the sofa beside me : 
 
 "Do you think you will go out on this fool's errand of Miss Gaw- 
 lor's?" 
 
 I said very meekly: "You told Miss Julia that you would insist on 
 my going, if I were disinclined to go, and as it is your wish that I go, 
 I am perfectly willing." 
 
 "It is my wish that you do not go out one step to ask one penny 
 for her," he said. 
 
 "But you told her to expect our help." 
 
 "She must go without our help, and you must bear the blame." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. D , do not let her think that I could treat her so, 
 
 after we promised to assist her." 
 
 He rose from his seat, and said : "I care not what she thinks of you, 
 you have promised to obey me, and I expect you to do so." 
 
 I bowed my head, and said: "I will obey you." 
 
 A few days after this, I went to the Government House, but Miss 
 Gawlor was not at home. I gave my paper to Mrs. Gawlor, telling 
 her I did not collect any money; I had only my own subscription to 
 give, was sorry, but I could do no more. 
 
 For a few weeks Mr. D accompanied me to church, but he quit 
 
 going with me, and he did not go to his own church either. The 
 12
 
 iy8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 church and prayer-meetings were to me very precious seasons; there 
 I tried to forget my sorrows and receive comfort. He laughed at the 
 idea of being missed at church. When I told him many kind inquiries 
 were made for him, he said : 
 
 "I am tired going to church, and you must give up going too." 
 
 "No, Mr. D , this I may not do." 
 
 "You must obey me; your Bible tells you so, and I shall be obeyed," 
 said the inconsistent man. 
 
 "Yes," I said, "in all and everything I shall obey you, when that 
 does not conflict with my obedience to God. In this matter, I must 
 obey God rather than man." 
 
 "Do you prefer God to me?" and with fearful oaths, he said that 
 I must give up going to church, and stay at home, and entertain his 
 friends on Sunday. 
 
 I said I would give up the week meetings, if he would allow me to 
 go to church on Sunday. This he would not consent,to. 
 
 Then I said: "In this I must disobey you, for my Bible says: 'Neg- 
 lect not the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is.' " 
 
 "If you go," he said, "you may stay, for here you shall not come 
 again." 
 
 I said, if he would come with me, he would be far happier than by 
 • staying away. He swore at me, and I went to church with a heavy 
 heart, and found, on my return, that I was locked out. I walked up and 
 down for several weary hours under a hot sun; I was nearly stifled by a 
 hot wind, and whirlwinds of dust, but the relentless man had no pity, 
 he kept the doors locked against me. Evening shades were gathering 
 round; I was ashamed to be seen on the street any longer on such a 
 day, when every living being sought the shelter of a house as a protec- 
 tion from the blistering heat. I went away behind the house, and sat 
 down on a stump of a tree, utterly oblivious to everything but my great 
 sorrow. I was stupefied with grief. I could not pray, and I wondered 
 if God had forsaken me. I wondered what I had done to deserve this 
 treatment. I wondered if my whole life was to be embittered; if so, 
 "O God, let me die soon," was my bitter cry. 
 
 Just then a rough hand was laid on my shoulder, and I was dragged 
 unresistingly to the house, my bonnet and dress torn off me, and a thick 
 rope, knotted and twisted, was whirled about my head and bare shoul- 
 ders till I had no strength left to stand up under the blows. I fell back 
 on a sofa unconscious, and there lay till the next day. Meantime Mr. 
 D went out and locked me in, all unconscious as I was. I was
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. I 79 
 
 very ill after this day's treatment. Mr. D asked me how I felt. 
 
 I told him I felt ill, and I begged him to tell me why he abused me 
 so. He said he had no reason for it, but he liked to do it, and that it 
 was a pleasure he intended to indulge in. I searched my heart to see 
 if I had in thought or word or deed done aught to cause such brutal- 
 ity being used toward me. I was not conscious of giving offense in 
 any way, only in going to church contrary to his^ wishes. I asked 
 him if he were jealous of me that he treated me so; if so, he had no 
 cause. 
 
 "No, no, lam not jealous; I have no fear of you," he said. "Do 
 you think," said he again, with such slow and deliberate accentuation 
 of every syllable of each word as to make him look like a native fiend, 
 "do you think that if I had cause for jealousy that you would ever 
 cross that threshold alive ? No; that you would not." 
 
 I shuddered and was silent. 
 
 It was midnight, and I sat alone in my room, surrounded by every 
 bodily comfort, with a breaking heart, and trembling with fear at the 
 
 least noise, yet anxious for Mr. D to come home. He -spent all 
 
 his evenings abroad. I was looking in my Bible, if in anything I 
 had come short in a wife's duties. In no point had I failed; how 
 could I, when I took God's own word as my daily guide in all things? 
 In my duty to God I might have come short, but not so to my hus- 
 band. I was the bride of a few months, and I had lived to be per- 
 secuted with the malice of a fiend by one who ought to have sheltered 
 me in his heart. Respect or deference for the Bible or religion he 
 had none. He cursed his mother's memory, because he said she 
 always took the Bible for her guide, and as I was like her in this re- 
 spect, he consigned us both to a region that shall be nameless. Moses 
 said: "Cursed be he that setteth light by his father or his mother." I 
 
 exceedingly feared for Mr. D , he was so profane, lest he might 
 
 be cut down in the midst of his wickedness. I heard him at last come 
 staggering into the house. I clasped my hands together in terror. I 
 looked up to God and committed myself to him, and quietly lay down 
 to wait. He bent over me and asked if I were asleep. 
 
 "No, Mr. D ," I said. 
 
 "Pray; for this night you must die," he said. 
 
 He left me to go for a knife. I heard him in the knife-box. I 
 did not scream, or jump out of bed; of what avail would it be? I 
 lay perfectly still, believing that my last hour had come. I asked God 
 to accept of my spirit through Christ my Savior, and to forgive my
 
 l8o THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 murderer. Every moment I expected to feel the fatal thrust. I was 
 cold with terror. What torture I suffered till he came, which was a 
 long time. At last he came and told me that he could not find the 
 right knife till morning. 
 
 "But be sure I intend to sacrifice you, body and soul," said the 
 wretched man. 
 
 Next day when he was sober, he laughed a malicious laugh, and 
 said : 
 
 "I could not find the knife last night, but I still purpose your death." 
 
 Mr. E , the lawyer, Mr. D 's boon companion, came to see 
 
 him, and in his presence, harsh, taunting, bitter words were spoken to 
 me, which drove the blood from my face- and in a jibing tone he 
 sneered at my prudery. The two men exchanged looks that I could 
 
 not interpret. Mr. D left the room, and Mr. E , in the most 
 
 insinuating way, said he was so sorry to see that his friend did not 
 seem to appreciate the good wife that he had. He said that he sym- 
 pathized with me very deeply and sincerely. He attempted to sit on 
 the sofa beside me. His words, his tone and his manner, were all 
 very offensive to me. I could not answer him, but I rose and left 
 him alone. I went and shut myself up in my own room, and did not 
 
 leave it till Mr. E left the house. I was dreadfully abused for my 
 
 rudeness. I begged Mr. D not to ask that man to the house, or 
 
 at least not to expect me to entertain him, if he did. Mr. D , 
 
 cruel man, said : 
 
 "I shall invite Mr. E— — , and you shall not only entertain him, 
 but you shall also entertain his mistress, whom I shall invite to come 
 and see you." 
 
 "Mistress!" I exclaimed. "Does Mr. E keep a" . 
 
 A severe blow on the mouth stopped my utterance. I fell on my 
 knees to this terrible man, and cried: 
 
 "Oh, do not degrade me by bringing a bad woman to our house. 
 I can not, will not, see her. I am willing to suffer any indignity or 
 cruelty at your hand, but oh, do not pollute my home by the presence 
 of such people." 
 
 He had tried every unseen agency his ingenuity could invent to rob 
 me of my good name, which was more precious to me than life ; and 
 now he wished to give the world a pretext for believing me what he 
 represented me to be, by making me associate with an abandoned 
 woman and her paramour, ' ' No, I shall hold fellowship with no such 
 .people."
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. l8l 
 
 One Sunday afternoon I was asked to take a walk, a very unusual 
 
 thing, and I gave a willing consent to go with Mr. D , as I never 
 
 left the house only to go to church on Sunday mornings, and then I 
 was forbidden to speak to any of the members. None of my friends 
 were allowed to visit me. I was completely isolated. We walked a 
 
 long distance. Mr. D was in a gleeful mood. I was tired with 
 
 my long walk, and asked him to return home. I had lost my strength 
 and elasticity, and leaned heavily on the arm that ought to have been 
 my shield. He smiled pleasantly, and said we have not far to go now. 
 I asked him where he was going. 
 
 "There." 
 
 And he pointed to a cottage near by. I asked him who lived there. 
 
 "Mr. E ," said he, "and we have been invited to spend the 
 
 evening with him and a few friends." 
 
 I started affrighted. Mr. D said, in a bland, soft tone : 
 
 "We are seen; let us go on." 
 
 Never shall I cross their threshold. My fatigue left me, and I 
 walked toward home. 
 
 "Stop," cried Mr. D , "till I go and apologize for you not 
 
 going in." 
 
 "No apology for me, please; I shall walk home." 
 
 And I did, my insulted feelings bearing me up till I reached home, 
 •where I sank down in utter helplessness. Oh, how bitter were the 
 wrongs, how galling the spirit wounds, I had to suffer, and no respite, 
 no redress. "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me," often 
 burst from my agonized heart. 
 
 It was past the hour of midnight. I was alone, and weary of life, 
 and without hope of rest only in the grave, when I heard a noise out- 
 side the door. Well I knew what it meant, and I opened the door 
 myself with a trembling hand. But oh, what a ghastly sight met my 
 gaze ! A sight that chilled my blood. 
 
 "Great Father !" I cried, "is he dead?" as two men carried Mr. 
 
 D into the house, covered with blood and insensible, and laid 
 
 him on the floor. 
 
 "No," said the men, "he is not dead, but he assaulted a gentleman 
 at the gaming-table, and he defended himself with a knife, and cut 
 Mr. D about the head; hence the blood." 
 
 The men left him to me. I washed the blood from his face, head 
 and neck. I dressed his wounds as best I could, and bandaged his 
 head, and then sat down beside him, supporting his head on my lap
 
 1 82 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 till daylight. Harrowing thoughts chased each other through my 
 brain on that night of lonely vigil. 1 could not leave the unhappy 
 man to go for a doctor, and I thought he must die. I prayed to God 
 to spare him to repent of his great sins, and not to cut him down in 
 the midst of them. Through the nights and days that I nursed him 
 he seemed very penitent. He thought he was going to die, and feared 
 to go. He asked me how I could bear all his bad treatment and never 
 complain or retaliate; how could I so patiently nurse him, who so 
 often laid me on a bed of suffering from his brutality ? 
 
 "My infallible guide tells me to love my enemies; to bless them who 
 curse me ; to do good to those who hate me, and pray for those who 
 despitefuUy use me and persecute me; and I am trying to do just 
 what he tells me. I have no one else to give me counsel," I answered : 
 
 "Do you think I am your enemy?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, I do, and you persecute me, and say all manner of evil of 
 me, and you know you have no cause. You curse me with your 
 mother, because, like her, I take the word of God for my guide and 
 rule of conduct." 
 
 "But," said he, "with all I do, you still say you forgive me; how 
 can you?" 
 
 "Because I hope God will forgive me all my shortcomings; this I 
 could not expect did I not forgive others." 
 
 ' 'I expect there is something in your religion ; for were I a woman, 
 and treated as you are, and have been, I should leave the ." 
 
 "When I married you, it was for better for worse, for richer for 
 poorer, in sickness and health; and none of your bad treatment could 
 drive me from what I thought was my duty," I said. 
 
 "If I live I shall be a better man. Drink makes me mad," he said. 
 
 "Quit it then forever, and be a man, not a demon, and God help 
 you to do right," said I. 
 
 One whole month I was comparatively happy; Mr. D for 
 
 that time did not drink. 
 
 When I dressed in white my toilet pleased him. I tried in all things 
 to please him. One day I put on a white dress that he admired very 
 much, and I went to him and asked him how he liked me in it. He 
 said gaily, that he could not like me better. I gave him a grateful look 
 for his kind words. When our eyes met, oh, horror! I saw the demon 
 lurking in his looks. I left him quietly, but ere I reached my room 
 door, a small hatchet was hurled at my head. It struck and stuck in 
 the door, one inch above my head. Mr. D followed the weapon.
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 83 
 
 laughing merrily; he encircled my head with one arm, held it tight, 
 while with his strong right hand he tore out my hair, beat my combs 
 and hair-pins into my head, till my white dress was crimsoned over ; 
 then he thrust me with such violence into my room, that I fell senseless 
 on the floor. Next morning I had to appear at the breakfast-table, but 
 hope had again died within me. I feared to speak, lest I should offend. 
 
 "O Christ, forgive me," burst from the lips of Mr. D ; "I 
 
 thought I had killed you yesterday, and if you had spoken, I should 
 have killed you outright. Can you forgive me?" 
 
 I could not speak, but I rose and put my arms round his neck, and 
 kissed him my forgiveness. Ere I reached my seat again, he, with the 
 strength of a giant, gave me a kick on the side, that deprived me of 
 breath, and nearly of life, and I fell helpless to the floor. 
 
 Governor Gawlor was about to leave the colony with his family. 
 
 Mr. D , before his last attack on me, that prostrated me so, had 
 
 said that he should like me to invite a few friends of my own to dinner, 
 as I had never entertained any of my own friends since I was married. 
 I dared not remind him, that with fearful oaths he had forbidden me 
 even to speak to them. When any of the church members called to 
 see me, he ordered me to disappear, and I had to hear him tell them, 
 that I was not attentive to my religious duties, as he would like to see; 
 I was too fond of light company, and he hoped they would take me to 
 task for my conduct; he said, he believed that if he did not insist on 
 my going to church on Sunday mornings, that I would give that up as 
 well as the week meetings; he also said that he believed that I did not 
 care to have the church members visit me. Oh, how my pulses beat, 
 and my cheeks burned, while I heard these infamous falsehoods uttered 
 so deliberately; but I was utterly helpless to contradict them, or to 
 defend myself. I thought, all will be righted at the judgment day. All 
 this, and much more, I could have alleged as a reason why I did not 
 entertain my friends, but I did not. After his last outbreak of ill-humor, 
 I was unwilling to invite my friends. I greatly feared another out- 
 burst; this he saw, and insisted that I should have a party. 1 allowed 
 him to order everything, and I made preparations. Amongst my guests 
 
 was Miss B , from Government House, who had come to the colony, 
 
 and was going to leave with the governor's family. I was abused, and 
 insulted, and taunted in every conceivable way, till I had no heart for 
 company, and then I was told to look cheerful and happy, and show 
 my friends what a good husband 1 had. 1 bore his taunting mockery 
 with a heavy heart.
 
 1 84 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The friends arrived, dinner was served, and Mr. D astonislied 
 
 me with his hilarity. His manners were perfectly captivating; he was 
 all smiles, and gracious to all. I tried to be cheerful, but fear lay 
 
 heavy on my heart; I was in mortal dread all the time. Miss B 
 
 was the last to leave : she waited for her escort to come for her. As 
 
 we three sat, Mr. D was so caressing, so devoted. Looking at 
 
 me with beaming eyes, he said : 
 
 "I hope my pet is not tired; you look fatigued." 
 
 He drew his chair near to mine, slipped his arm round me, and drew 
 my head down on his shoulder, patted me on the cheek, and said: 
 
 "Rest there, dearest." 
 
 I never knew that a human heart could cover up such consummate 
 hypocrisy. Miss B was perfectly charmed. She said: 
 
 " If I thought I could be as happy as you two are, and (looking at 
 me) that I could have such devotion as you have from a husband, I 
 should marry to-morrow, and remain in the colony." 
 
 I fairly shuddered, and mentally said: "God forbid." 
 
 "I fear I spoil my little wife, she gets contrary sometimes," Mr. 
 D said. 
 
 Astonishment kept me silent. When Miss B said, 
 
 "I never saw a happier couple than you two," I was in perfect tor- 
 ture. 
 
 Miss B left the house with the most exalted opinion of Mr. 
 
 D as a model husband, and of my happiness. As soon as we were 
 
 alone, Mr. D came near to me, and with a mocking, fiendish 
 
 laugh, said: 
 
 ' ' I fear such treatment as you had to-night might spoil you, if I did 
 not counteract it, so I intend to show you what I can do." 
 
 He poured out a tumbler of wine and drank it; he then took a razor 
 and deliberately sharpened it, saying, "I intend to cut your throat." I 
 begged for life, not that I loved it, for all hope of happiness had fled. 
 I feared not to die, for I knew in whom I believed; but I feared thai- 
 Mr. D would die a murderer's death. This thought horrified me, 
 
 and made me beg for life. Hope, love, fear, all were dead for myself, 
 I only feared for him. My earnest prayer was not to die by the hand 
 
 of Mr. D . What an experience was mine ! what a bitter cup I 
 
 had to drink ! ' ' Let me die a natural death, O my Father, that I may 
 be removed from the presence of a man who desires my death. He 
 may then repent, when the temptation in my person to cruelty is re- 
 moved." I cried for rest for my tortured heart. My reason seemed
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 85 
 
 tottering on its throne. " Oh, thou who hearest the mourner's prayer, 
 soften the stony heart, and turn aside the scowHng looks, which are so 
 full of heartless cruelty; give me a few hours of peace and tranquillity 
 to calm my troubled mind, ere I pass to the great unseen. I have 
 ceased to hope for mercy from the brutal man. Have mercy on his 
 sin-stained soul, O God." This was my prayer. 
 
 Miss Gawlor came to ask me to accompany them to Port Adelaide, 
 on their way to England. Miss Julia and I had formed a sincere affec- 
 tion for each other in our desert travels. Now she was leaving the 
 colony, and she wished me to be with her to the last. In my heart I 
 
 wished to go, but feared to say so. Mr. D was asked to go, and 
 
 take me with him. He, with all the blandishment he was capable of 
 showing, said he considered it a high compliment to be invited, and 
 would show his appreciation of the honor by being there. Turning to 
 me, he said: 
 
 "I hope you will not disappoint any one, as you know I wish to be 
 there" — he lowered his tone so as just to be heard by Miss Julia — 
 "But if you take the sulks, I do not know how it will be." 
 
 "Oh, Eliza does not sulk," said Miss Julia. 
 
 She and Mr. D bandied a few pleasant words together, and 
 
 parted good friends. I was glad, as I had a desire to go to the port 
 and see the embarkation. As soon as Miss Gawlor left, I said I was 
 glad he had arranged to go to the port. He took me in his arms, 
 swung me off my feet, then dropped me suddenly, put his hands on his 
 knees, and, with one of his demoniacal laughs, looked in my face, and 
 said: "You are not going." 
 
 "Oh, yes," I said; "you have made the arrangement, and given 
 your word that we should go." 
 
 A volley of oaths burst from him, then he said : 
 
 "I pleased Miss Gawlor that I might disappoint you, and make her 
 think you took the sulks. Ha! ha! I shall do for you there." 
 
 He left me, rubbing his hands in great glee at my amazement, for, 
 truly, I was in a maze at this new act of perfidy. I asked him to let 
 me go and say good-bye to Miss Gawlor, if I could not go to the port, 
 as she would feel the disappointment as well as myself. 
 
 "No, you shall not see her again, and if you attempt it, I shall take 
 your life." 
 
 "Oh, what is such a life worth," I exclaimed. 
 
 I wrote a note to my friend Julia, l)idding her good-bye, wishing her 
 every happiness, and a pleasant voyage home. I tried to write cheer-
 
 lS6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 fully, and told her not to think her loving friend had the sulks, for cir- 
 cumstances, over which I had no control, prevented me going to the 
 port. I gave the note to my little maid to put in the post-office. On 
 the day the governor and family left the colony, I shut myself up in 
 my room, and cried in all the abandonment of grief. While I was sor- 
 rowing, Mr. D came into my room with an open note in his hand, 
 
 and said: 
 
 "Do you know this?" 
 
 I thought it might be an answer to mine to Miss Gawlor. I asked 
 him for it. 
 
 "Let me read it first." 
 
 He read with a bitter, ironical tone, my note to Miss Gawlor. I 
 sprang to my feet, and said : 
 
 " Oh, Mr. D , how did you get that letter out of the post-office? 
 
 Julia will be gone ere it reaches her." 
 
 "This letter was never in the post-office, nor shall it ever reach Miss 
 Gawlor. Your maid brought it to me according to my instructions. I 
 know all your actions; I pay that girl to watch you." 
 I cared but little what he did now, I was weary of life. 
 
 We were invited to a party, and I must go, because Mr. E and 
 
 Mr. L were to be there, and I was told to make myself agreeable 
 
 to them. I was to pay them attention. I said I would pay them . as 
 
 much attention as Mr. D 's wife ought to pay to such men. 
 
 "Bah! Mr. D 's wife is not to make a show of superiority over 
 
 his friends." 
 
 At the party he was bland and caressing. This manner was a cur- 
 tain to cloak all sorts of perfidious, treacherous brutality, which I suf- 
 fered from him on the road home. Ere I reached home, I was one 
 mass of bruises from head to foot. I ventured to ask him why I was 
 kissed and kicked, caressed and cursed, beaten and bruised so fearfully 
 all in one hour. 
 
 He coolly answered: "Because I wish people to think I wish you 
 well, treat you well, and love. you well. Ha! ha! And you dare not 
 tell them to the contrary." 
 
 I told him I had no desire to expose him. I had prayed to God to 
 reconcile me to my bitter lot. I had no hope of change in him. I 
 had never made complaint to mortal; but I ventured to tell him: 
 
 "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord; I will repay." "You will 
 have to give an account to your Maker for your evil deeds." 
 
 All Christmas week Mr. D and his boon companions drank and
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 87 
 
 gambled, and I had the benefit of his fury. The bruises I carried 
 about with me were hard to bear, but the bruises of a bhghted heart 
 were far more unendurable. The grief that must not be spoken, the 
 weight of woe that must be borne alone, bends the spirit. Who can 
 know this, but those who have suffered ? The deadly upas-tree was 
 overshadowing my whole life. I suffered from the repeated attacks 
 at this memorable period. My lips were sealed with woe. Tears, 
 wrung from my torn heart, flowed silently. I uttered no word of 
 reproach or complaint. I hoped that God would soon release me. 
 One evening I was looking out at the door with a feeling of blank 
 despair at my heart, when a tolerably well-dressed young woman with 
 
 a child in her arms came to me, and asked if Mr. D was at 
 
 home. 
 
 "No; but if you have a message for him, I shall deliver it to him 
 when he comes home," I said. 
 
 "No, I have no message to leave with you; I shall wait for him till 
 he comes home," and she pushed past me into the house. 
 
 I asked her who she was, and what she wanted in my house ? She 
 looked at me very quizzically, and said : 
 
 "Your house? I guess I have as much right here as you have." 
 
 She left ere Mr. D came home. I told him of the strange 
 
 woman, and asked if he knew her. He said her husband was in prison 
 for forgery, and, as he was to be on the jury at the trial, she wished 
 him to get her husband clear if possible. I asked him if he knew 
 why she had said, she had as good a right to my house as I had. A 
 severe blow on the mouth was the answer. With an oath he left me 
 to go to her, to attend to her husband's business, as he said. 
 
 In my Bible-reading I came across this passage: "It is impossible 
 but that offences will come : but woe unto him through whom they come !" 
 On reading this passage a new fear took hold of me. I asked God 
 
 if I were under his curse as well as my husband's? Mr. D had 
 
 deeply offended God by his perjury, his profanity and his treatment of 
 me. I asked myself if I were the one through whom his offences 
 came ? Were I to leave him he would not have the temptation to sin 
 so fearfully. I had asked God to take me out of this evil man's way, 
 hoping that were I removed he might repent of his wickedness and 
 become a better man. If through me the offences came, would the 
 Bible sanction my leaving him? I knew not; my way was dark. But 
 woe to him through whom the offence comes. I thought I could not 
 live under God's ban. What would I not have given for one hour's
 
 l88 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 free confidential conference with a minister of the church, to expound 
 to me the word of God, and show me my duty; but this could not be. 
 I could only pour into the ear of my heavenly Father my heart sorrows. 
 I went to his word, and it was its own interpreter to me ; I had no 
 other. I read in i Corinthians vii. lo, ii: "Let not the wife depart 
 from her husband. But and if she depart, let her remain unmarried." 
 Here was a way open for me, in God's own word, to escape from dire 
 persecution. A wife was permitted to depart under certain conditions, 
 all of which I was more than willing to comply with, if the soul of 
 
 Mr. D could be saved by my going away. The Bible lay on my 
 
 lap, my finger on the passage just read, and I in a profound study 
 
 about it, when Mr. D came in and sat down beside me in great 
 
 good humor, saying: 
 
 "My dear,"— 
 
 I asked him not to use that expression, for it was the precursor of 
 evil. 
 
 "My dear," he repeated, "you have said that you would never 
 leave me, and that if I left you, you would follow me, go where I 
 would." 
 
 "Yes, I have said so." 
 
 "I wish to test you. I am going to New Zealand to open a new 
 business. I am going to take men, money and material, and when I 
 am established there, I shall send for you, and you shall come to me. 
 Meantime, you shall take charge of this business, collect the debts, 
 pay the men, and do just as I would were I here." 
 
 I was astounded at this new state of affairs, and could not answer. 
 He asked me how I should like going to New Zealand. 
 
 "Mr. D ," I said in a quiet, firm tone, "I shall not go to New 
 
 Zealand." 
 
 "Not go when I shall send for you?" 
 
 "No," said I. 
 
 "Well, if I come for you, of course you will go." 
 
 "No," said I, "I shall not go to you, or with you. I shall be quite 
 willing to do anything I can for you while you are gone. I shall be 
 faithful to your interests, but you must give me a power of attorney." 
 
 "Why so particular about a power of attorney?" 
 
 "Because you told me Mrs. , the merchant's wife, was impris- 
 oned for doing business in her husband's name and absence without 
 one, and I do not wish my services to be rewarded by imprisonment." 
 
 "You are talking in a strange way; I never heard you talk so before.
 
 SAD EXPERIE^'CE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 89 
 
 You were always glad to do just what you were told to do. Does 
 your Bible teach you to disobey me ? I see it on your lap.'' 
 
 "No, not that; but it tells me that there is a woe to those who 
 cause another to sin. I have heard you say that you took pleasure in 
 treating me brutally, and while so engaged you blaspheme the name 
 of God so fearfully, and perjure yourself, and otherwise act the fiend, 
 that I think were I to leave you, you would not commit those fearful 
 sins, and you might become a better man without me. And the Bible 
 says I may leave you without smning, and I am going to do so. You 
 have broken every marriage vow, and you need not think because I 
 submitted quietly to your perfidious conduct, that I did not feel the 
 bitter injustice, the mighty wrong, and the treachery used toward me, 
 or that I loved life when on my knees I begged for it from you. I 
 have held my marriage vow too sacred either to leave you, or expose 
 you, or have the tie loosed or broken in any way. Nothing on earth 
 would have induced me to leave you. But God's word has provided 
 a way of escape for me from your cruelty, I will not return evil for 
 evil, for God has said: 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay,' and I leave 
 you in his hand. You have cursed your mother and me because I, 
 like her, took the Bible as a guide. But I warn you that that same 
 Bible says: 'He who curseth father or mother, let him die the death.' 
 'His lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness.' I have lost all con- 
 fidence in you. When we were married, I believed you to be what 
 you professed to be, a good Methodist, or you should never have 
 mocked me at the altar with a perjurer's vows. But it is all over now, 
 and I forgive you. May you repent and be forgiven of God," 
 
 I do not know why I had the courage to speak to Mr, D . I 
 
 felt like one inspired. I did not feel afraid as was my wont. Why I 
 was listened to I know not, but so it was. He begged me not to 
 leave him; he could not live without me; he would be a better man, 
 I had no faith in his protestations. "Woe to him by whom the offense 
 Cometh" was too vividly impressed on my mind for me to compromise 
 in the least degree. My mind was fixed. Again I told him if he 
 gave me a power of attorney, I should be faithful to his interests till 
 he was settled in his new home, or till his return to wind up his affairs 
 in Adelaide, and on the day he returned I should render to him his 
 own, and give an account of what I had done, give him his keys, then 
 leave him forever. He rose up and asked if this determination was 
 final? 
 
 "Yes," I said.
 
 190 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 He said he would do all he could to alter it. 
 
 "Meantime, I shall give you a power of attorney, and I shall give 
 
 my friend Mr. E instructions to attend to you and look after your 
 
 interests. In fact, I shall leave you in his charge entirely, till I either 
 return for you or send for you." 
 
 A dirk-point could not be keener to pierce than was this speech. 
 
 "Mr. ," I said, "think of the character of that man, and the 
 
 danger you wish to place me in, by commissioning him to look after 
 me; this empowers him to come here at all times, and certainly my 
 name and fame would be soiled by such acquaintance." 
 
 "I tell you again, Mr. E shall have charge of you," said Mr. 
 
 D . 
 
 With all the energy I could muster, I said: 
 
 "My good name is all I possess, and it is more precious than gold; 
 and I tell you I shall not consent to be robbed of it. That man shall 
 not enter my house while you are gone, or if he does, that instant I 
 leave it. I shall not consult him on any business whatever. I will 
 shun him as I would the pestilence. So I pray you not to talk to him 
 of me." 
 
 Mr. D gave me one of his mocking laughs, and left me. 
 
 In the bar-room of hotel, Mr. M , the proprieter, overheard 
 
 Mr. D and Mr. E concocting dire mischief, of which I was 
 
 to be the victim. Mr. E had written out the power of attorney, 
 
 and they had put their names to it, but without the name of a witness to 
 their signing their names, the document was illegal; this was to be given 
 me to act upon : then I could be imprisoned. I would be entirely in 
 the power of these wicked plotters. The Lord did not forsake me at 
 that time. He fought for me against those who were spreading a net 
 for my feet, and digging a pit for me to fall into. They were check- 
 mated by Mr. M , the proprietor, who treated them to some rare 
 
 Constantia wine that he had lately imported. While they were enjoy- 
 ing the wine, they were forgetful of the document as it lay on the 
 
 table. Mr. M quietly removed it, put his name to it, as he had seen. 
 
 the other two sign their names, and thus made the document legal, 
 
 and replaced it unseen. Mr. D , all smiles, presented me with the 
 
 power of attorney, and said: 
 
 "Now, you have everything in your possession, act for me, and 
 when I return for you, I will reward you in a way you litde think of." 
 
 "I said I would do all I could for him, but I would not go with
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. igi 
 
 him or stay with him. I raised my eyes to his as I said this, and I 
 saw the demon again dancing in his eye, as he said : 
 
 "I will make you glad to wish to live with me yet." 
 
 I feared to answer him. The bar-room and gaming-table had crip- 
 pled his resources, but he might retrieve his losses in another colony. 
 He sailed away and left me alone, sick and weary of life. I had de- 
 cided to leave my husband, my home, without one thought of where 
 I should go, or what I should do. The Bible teaches woman her 
 whole duty to God and man. My duty seemed to stand out in bold 
 relief, and though my heart sank at the thought of facing the dark 
 and frowning world again, yet I must bear the cross and follow the 
 Savior, and he said: "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." This 
 thought gave me fresh courage to do what I had taken in hand, and I 
 set about it at once. I gave instructions to the foreman never to allow 
 
 Mr. E to pass through his domain to come into the house, and to 
 
 tell him that I could not see him. I gave him instructions about busi- 
 ness, told him to do the best he could and I should be satisfied ; but I 
 
 also wished to give entire satisfaction to Mr. D on his return. I 
 
 set my house in order, for I felt very ill and might die. I was strug- 
 gling to keep off sickness, but it was taking fast hold of my whole 
 system. 
 
 At this time I had a letter from my mother; she was on her way to 
 
 me. Mr. D , in one of his sober, repentant moods, had urged 
 
 me to send for her, as she had lost her husband. When Mr. McLaren 
 went home to England I gave him money to pay my mother's expenses 
 out to me. I did this to secure her coming. I had hoped that she 
 
 might be a check upon the madness of Mr. D ■, but she was too 
 
 late for that. However, I felt thankful that she was coming to me. 
 I hoped to show her that religion was to be valued far more than all 
 the world beside. I would be good and kind to her, and make her 
 forget, if she remembered, that three years before she had thrust me 
 from her to wander the wide world alone. With tottering steps and 
 throbbing brows I threw fnyself into my mother's arms, and wept on 
 her shoulder, when she landed, I felt as if I could sob out my life 
 on her bosom. She did not let me lie there long, she held me at arms 
 length, and asked me if I had followed the fashion, to dye my hair 
 and paint my face. 
 
 "O God," I mentally exclaimed, "is it thus my dearly loved mother 
 greets me? Why does she mock me ? What does she mean? Paint- 
 ing my face and dyeing my hair!"
 
 192 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The explanation was, my golden locks had become nearly black; 
 my pure white skin had become slightly bronzed by exposure, and the 
 rose-tints had forsaken my cheeks. I took my mother home and sur- 
 rounded her with everything that affection could devise for her com- 
 fort and well-being. Questions about her dear son-in-law were endless; 
 from his letter to her she had formed an exalted opinion of him. It 
 wrung my heart to have to tell her of his real character, but it had to 
 be done. I begged her to be my friend in my great need. "I have no 
 living being but you to cling to, dear mother; do not again cast me 
 off, for I am very desolate." She answered, in a very bitter tone: 
 
 "I shall inquire of Mr. D when he returns what you have done 
 
 that he drives you from the comfortable home that he has provided 
 for you." 
 
 "Mother, dearest, I have done nothing but obey God rather than 
 man, and man's cruelty drives me from the shelter of home, and it is 
 my stern duty to go from him who has perjured himself in every way, 
 and deceived me. By staying, I cause him to commit more sin, and 
 I do not wish him to sacrifice his soul by committing murder. My 
 duty is plainly marked out for me." 
 
 "Where? and by whom?" 
 
 "In the Bible, and by its author." 
 
 "Humph! I thought so. I tell you what it is, your religion is not 
 going to give you happiness in this world. It will do you no good. 
 Give it up, and make the best you can of all the good things you have. 
 For my part, I mean to enjoy them, and if you leave your husband, I 
 shall stay with him." 
 
 "I must bear my burden alone. Only He who laid it on me can 
 take it away or give me strength to bear it." 
 
 I had often fainted by the way, had the Lord not taken me up. 
 "Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine 
 heart." The excitement of the departure and the arrival kept me up, 
 but my physical strength was lessening daily. The doctor advised a 
 complete change of scene. My friend M — — sent an invitation for 
 me to spend a few days with her in the country. Her invitation was 
 opportune, and I accepted it. I put everything in order and left my 
 mother in charge. On a bright, beautiful morning a little German 
 carriage with two cream-colored ponies drew up at the door. I stepped 
 in and was driven away toward the mountains. 
 
 As Mr. Freeman's station was more than a day's journey from 
 'Adelaide, I put up at Hausdorf, a German village. Here the Ger-
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 93 
 
 mans who were persecuted at home for their religion found an asylum, 
 and gave the names of several places in their Fatherland to the places 
 which they settled. My wants were few, and my kind hostess easily 
 supplied them. I was greatly fatigued by my day's travel over the 
 mountains. On retiring, I was ushered into a recess, my hostess wait- 
 ing to help me undress, and then pointing to a large, shallow square 
 box, on which was a feather-bed, in her sweet broken English she 
 told me to lie down] but I saw neither sheets nor blankets, quilts nor 
 pillows; but being so tired, I asked no questions, and lay down. Pres- 
 ently the woman threw on top of me another feather-bed. This 
 roused me. I thought she would smother me; but her intention 
 was to make me comfortable. I was unacquainted with the German 
 mode of sleeping between feather-beds. I slept more soundly than I 
 had slept for months. I was fain to lie in bed next day, but I had to 
 finish my journey. So a drive of a few hours among the mountains 
 brought me to my destination. I was cordially received by my friends, 
 with whom I meant to spend one week. But many weeks rolled round 
 ere I could return. My strength left me, and I was prostrated on a 
 sick-bed, and not expected to recover. I was well attended by Mrs. 
 Freeman, but I had lost all interest in life. I wished to be at rest; 
 but God willed that I should live. My life-work was not yet done; 
 my sufferings were not yet ended. A letter from Adelaide hurried me 
 home before I was well able to travel. When I reached home, my 
 mother told me that she wished that I had stayed a few days longer. 
 I found her busy preparing for a party she was giving to some new- 
 made friends. She had enjoyed a pleasant time whilst I was from 
 home and lying on a sick-bed. 
 
 Soon after my arrival, my kind friend, Mr. B called to inquire 
 
 after my health. I felt a sudden desire to make Mr. B my confi- 
 dant, and ask counsel of him. I asked him if he would allow me to 
 walk to and from church beside him, on Sundays and on prayer-meet- 
 ing nights. He smiled, and said he would take the same pleasure in 
 accompanying me to and from church, as he did before I had Mr. 
 
 D to do it. My mother thought my request mere folly. Perhaps 
 
 Mr. B thought so too. But God knew that there was no folly in 
 
 my heart when I made it. Mr. B was a respectable, married man, 
 
 a good citizen, the father of a family, and an elder in the church of 
 which I was a member. I greatly preferred this good man's company 
 and counsel, for I felt tliat I could trust him, to the debauchee whom 
 
 Mr. D had instructed to be my guardian. I told Mr. B why 
 
 13
 
 194 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I feared being much on the street alone ; there was a lion in the way, 
 
 or at least a bad man, whom I feared to meet. Mr. B quickly 
 
 responded : 
 
 "There will come no danger to you while Mr. D is gone, if I 
 
 can ward it." 
 
 ]VIj-, b was too delicate to ask questions. I had not yet gained 
 
 courage to speak out what I minded to say, and so weeks passed. My 
 health improved. I took an interest in the Sunday-school. I had a 
 Bible Class. I took a great interest in it especially. I was beginning 
 to feel how happy I might have been. Life was young, the world was 
 beautiful, and I was living in peace. What a blessed respite. A letter 
 
 from Mr. D announced his intention to return in a few weeks. 
 
 What a change came over my spirit. Hitherto my bitter wrongs, my 
 deep griefs, and great sorrows had been unspoken, they had been hid- 
 den deep below a calm, if not a beaming, countenance. I must speak 
 now, as the time to act a very important part was drawing near. I 
 would rather have died, and carried my sorrows to the grave, than to 
 have spoken them; but I could not die, and so I must speak. My 
 little sunshine was beclouded. I had felt strong, but now I felt weak, 
 and had it not been for God's good promises, I would have sunk in 
 despair. With faltering tongue, and quivering frame, I told the story 
 
 of my wrongs to Mr. B , and through him to the church. As a 
 
 member of the church, I wished to do nothing that it would disapprove 
 
 of. I gave my reasons for wishing to leave Mr. D' . I hoped that 
 
 I had not misinterpreted the Scriptures, or misunderstood the instruc- 
 tions concerning my duties to God and my husband. I had acted, 
 and was going to act, in accordance with those instructions, as far as I 
 understood them. I wished the church to judge my actions by the 
 truth. The church members were astonished at what they heard, for 
 
 all had been deceived by Mr. D 's manner. The church, after 
 
 hearing my statement, passed a resolution to the effect that, although 
 they were bound to believe me, yet never having heard of, or even 
 
 suspected Mr. D 's cruelty toward me, and as he was not in the 
 
 colony, they would wait till his return before judging the case. They 
 said if the case was half as bad as represented, it would clearly be my 
 duty to leave him. On the other hand, I might have imagined causes 
 for leaving Mr. D , when none existed. I acquiesced in their de- 
 cision. I prayed to God to stand by me in the fiery ordeal I had yet 
 
 to pass through. I well knew that Mr. D could, and would, hide 
 
 .his hatred with Ijang lips and fair mien, and how could I prove his
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 195 
 
 cruelty, when none but God and myself were witnesses of it. How 
 dreadful the training, how painful the process, that teaches you to con- 
 ceal your feelings, even when your heart is breaking. Again I asked 
 the Lord not to deliver me into the hand of my enemy. My mother 
 had rented a house, and I had everything ready to deliver to Mr. 
 
 D on his arrival. His business had been fairly prosperous; I had 
 
 paid off all the debts; his accounts were all straight. He had nothing 
 to do, but step in and take possession. I dreaded the meeting, but th^ 
 suspense I was in was fearful. 
 
 The dreaded day arrived; when Mr. D landed, I fairly quaked 
 
 with fear. I tried to read my Bible, to cull words of comfort, but I 
 could not see. I could not understand, I could only feel a great terror 
 creeping over me. Hours passed, and yet he did not come. Why the 
 delay ? He first visited his dissolute companions, Mr. E , the law- 
 yer, and Mr. S , the baker, to hear their reports about me. At 
 
 last he came, all smiles, and a manner well calculated to deceive a 
 stranger was put on for the occasion. I grew faint at the sound of his 
 voice. I held to a table for support till he reached me. I struggled 
 hard for utterance after the salutations were over. He overwhelmed 
 my mother with caressing speeches, and took her a willing captive by 
 his wiles. 
 
 "By jove, my dear little wife, your welcome is not very warm. Is 
 this all the greeting you have for me, who have come all the way from 
 New Zealand to see you?" 
 
 " Mr. D , you know I can not greet you otherwise, as you know 
 
 my intentions. I can not act the hypocrite. I deUver to you your 
 books, keys, and all that is yours. You will find everything in better 
 order than when you left, and now I leave you and your house. I for- 
 give you for all the ill you have wrought me, but I can never be aught 
 to you but a stranger, henceforth, forever." 
 
 "I am your natural protector, little one. To whom do you wish to 
 go? If you leave me, where will you go?" 
 
 "I am in God's hands. He will direct my path," I said. 
 
 '^You know I promised to love and cherish you as long as I live, so 
 you must allow me to fulfill my promise," said the wily man. 
 
 "I will hear no more of this cant, Mr. I) . I go from your pres- 
 ence forever, hoping that you may turn to God and live." 
 
 I gave him the keys, and he gave one of his mocking laughs, which 
 I well understood, and I left the house, never to enter it as my own 
 again.
 
 196 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I had asked my mother to accompany me to her house, but she re- 
 fused; she said she preferred the company of her son-in-law. Oh, 
 how my heart sank to hear my mother so speak. I went alone to my 
 mother's house. It was now to shelter a poor, broken-hearted, deso- 
 late creature. As soon as I entered my new home, I threw myself on 
 my knees, and asked God for strength and guidance. In myself I had 
 no strength, and my future was all dark. My life seemed to be an ever- 
 lasting war with woe. Oh, how empty seemed all the world and world- 
 ly things to my wounded, bleeding heart. I sat down by the fire on 
 a low stool, crossed my arms on a chair, and laid my weary head on 
 them. I did not sleep, I could not think; I was filled with an unde- 
 fined dread. I tried to reason myself out of the feeling, but I had no 
 power. I said to myself, I am safe from personal harm, I am in my 
 mother's house. I rose, and walked the floor. I was like one in a 
 fearful dream. I felt bewildered. ' ' Oh, mother, I cried, why do you 
 not come home?" At last she came home, and found me sitting on 
 the stool, with my head on the chair. My hair had broken loose from 
 its fastenings, and hung in heavy, disheveled masses over my neck 
 and arms. 
 
 "Child," said my mother, "why are you not in bed?" 
 
 I raised my head to say I had no desire to go to bed. 
 
 "How ghastly you look; you will be ill if you sit up any later, go 
 to bed at once; it is late." 
 
 There was something in my mother's manner that was not reassur- 
 ing, but I said nothing. I sat as before, with my head on the chair. 
 My mother opened the room door, and left it ajar (it opened to the 
 street), and then went to her own room. "Merciful Father," I men- 
 tally exclaimed, "what does that mean?" My poor brain seemed on 
 fire. I seemed to have no power to move, and still I sat, till past the 
 hour of midnight, when I heard the door move, and through my hair 
 
 I saw Mr. D , with stealthy step, approach the place where I sat. 
 
 My heart gave one fearful throb, as I thought that my mother's hand 
 had let the man who sought my life into the only place of shelter that 
 I had upon the earth. "O God," I said, "surely my enemies are 
 those of my own household. The mother has turned against the 
 daughter. Truly, I am a child of sorrow, an heiress of woe." My 
 
 mother met Mr. D in the middle of the room; they had a short 
 
 consultation. They thought I slept, but all my senses were keenly 
 alive at that moment. I heard all they said. Their plans were so 
 far frustrated, by my not having retired to my own room. My mother
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 97 
 
 helped Mr. D to take off his wet coat, as rain was falling very fast 
 
 outside. Mother and husband both sat down beside me, and discussed 
 in a whisper their plans to secure me. I almost screamed aloud: "My 
 God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" 
 , I could endure the intensity of my feelings no longer. I rose and 
 walked out into the darkness, and rain, and cold, and ran as fast as 
 my strength could carry me, but whither I knew not. Even as I fled 
 a wild feeling of rebellion was in my heart. All had forsaken me, 
 and I believed that God had forsaken me, too. I questioned his justice 
 in robbing my life of all happiness, and filling my heart with misery. 
 I told God he did not care for me. I told Jesus that he could not 
 sympathize with me, because he was not a woman. He was never 
 tempted as I was ; He was never situated as I then was. My reeling, 
 burning brain was coining all sorts of rebellious thoughts. Unknown 
 to myself, my feet were carrying me toward a precipice ; sure destruc- 
 tion was near at hand. My swift race was checked, but by no human 
 hand. I had accused Christ of want of sympathy and understanding 
 of my situation. But a word of sympathy from the sweet lips of the 
 Man of sorrows, who was acquainted with grief, arrested my frantic 
 steps, and shot a beam of light athwart my beclouded soul: "The 
 foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the son of 
 man has not where to lay his head." 
 
 "O my dear, kind, gracious, long-suffering Savior, I know you can 
 understand me now; help my unbelief," I cried. 
 
 I stretched out my arms toward the sky, though thick darkness cov- 
 ered it. I asked my dear Lord to forgive my rebellious unbelief. 
 Tears of penitence rained down my cheeks as fast as the rain from tlie 
 black clouds rained down on my uncovered head. I stood and wept, 
 and prayed for forgiveness. Never had I had so touching, so heart 
 subduing, so soul thrilling, an evidence of the sympathy of my Lord as 
 on that awful night when I was without a friend, without a home, and 
 the midnight storm beating down on by defenseless head. Naught 
 was there but me and my great sorrow. "As a father pitieth his chil- 
 dren, so the Lord pitieth them who fear him." The Lord had pity on 
 me that night, and directed my poor bewildered head to a shelter with 
 an acquaintance of my mother's. I tapped at the door and she opened 
 it, and let the weary wanderer in. She was greatly alarmed at my 
 appearance, but I told her that I wanted nothing, only shelter till day- 
 light came, which would l)e in two hours. Meantime, I dried my 
 clothes by the fire.
 
 198 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I borrowed a hat and shawl and went to my friend Mr. B 's 
 
 house, and told him what had transpired, and I asked of him the 
 
 protection of the church, as I feared Mr. D . Mr. N invited 
 
 me to take up my abode with his family for the time being. Mr. 
 
 D 's boon companions gave him such reports of me as best suited 
 
 them. Mr. E I had not seen or spoken to since Mr. D had 
 
 left the colony, but the three determined to ruin my reputation, if they 
 could not my character, and they circulated evil reports such as they 
 
 thought would accomplish this end. Mr. D made himself appear 
 
 a poor victimized man. He went to some of the prominent members 
 of the church and plead his own cause, hoping they would use their 
 influence to make me live with him. He said I had been ill-advised, 
 but he was willing to forgive me all my shortcomings. He believed, he 
 said, that my motive for leaving him was, that I might have a separate 
 maintenance, and have more freedom to gad about. He said he could 
 keep me handsomely with himself, but just now his resources were 
 somewhat crippled and he could not well support me separately. His 
 accusations were noted down by the elders of the church. They said 
 an investigation would take place soon, and he would have ample 
 justice done him. As yet I knew nothing of the reports the wicked 
 trio had been spreading abroad. My hiding-place was discovered, 
 
 and Mr. D demanded my presence at his house, to render an 
 
 account to. him of all I had done in his absence. This I had already 
 
 rendered. My friend Mr. B , who was the messenger, had some 
 
 business with Mr. D , and he advised me to go and he would ac- 
 company me. Mr. D accused me in the presence of Mr. B 
 
 of acting and transacting business in his name, and appropriating all 
 the money I could collect for my own use without his authority. 
 
 "O Mr. ," I exclaimed, "you gave me a power of attorney; 
 
 how can you say I had no authority? You know that I had, and I 
 have been most faithful to the trust reposed in me, and you know it." 
 
 "Ha! ha! I have you now in my power, and all the powers of 
 
 will not save you." 
 
 And he laughed his own demoniacal laugh. 
 
 "That document I gave you was not legal," he said. 
 
 "Not legal!" I exclaimed; "and what are you going to do?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Prosecute you, and put you in prison if I choose. But I expect 
 you will prefer living with me to going to prison."
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 1 99 
 
 This new act of treachery, I said, would not make me prefer living 
 with him. 
 
 "No; I prefer to go to prison and to death rather than live with 
 you." "What shall I do?" I asked of Mr. B . 
 
 "Show me the document," said he. 
 
 I handed it to him, and he read it very carefully, 'while Mr. D , 
 
 with wicked eyes, watched him narrowly. As Mr. B handed me 
 
 the paper, he said: 
 
 "This is a legal document, duly signed and sealed; you keep it 
 safe, it will be of use to you." 
 
 Ere I could reach the paper, Mr. D sprang upon Mr. B 
 
 like a panther on his prey, saying : 
 
 "It is not legal," and grappled for it. "It is not legal; it is not 
 signed; I shall destroy it." 
 
 "When you get it," said Mr. B ; and he held it tight. 
 
 In the struggle, Mr. D cut Mr. B 's hand. When I saw 
 
 blood flow, I screamed; the paper fell to the floor, and I picked it up 
 
 and left the house, but returned, fearing for Mr. B . But he was 
 
 not much hurt. When I screamed, Mr. D let go his hold, and 
 
 resumed all the blandishments of manner he was capable of showing; 
 
 hoped Mr. B was not hurt, and wished to know why he said that 
 
 that piece of paper was legal, and signed and sealed? and if signed, 
 who signed it ? Mr. B said : 
 
 "Mr. M has his name to it as witness to you and Mr. E 
 
 having signed it." 
 
 When Mr. D heard that Mr. M had his name on the 
 
 paper, he knew the paper was legal. Then all the smoothness left his 
 face, as I had often seen it before, and there was in the baffled visage 
 looking at me that which might have startled stronger nerves than 
 mine, and the savage of the man's nature stood out clear and dark, 
 and unutterably repulsive. He stood still a moment, as if contem- 
 plating a new attack. The veins, like cords, rose on his forehead, 
 and his eyes glistened, as only eyes can glisten in passion, that for vio- 
 lence is little better than insanity. He made a movement toward me. 
 I turned and fled from the spot. 
 
 " Is there no peace for me this side of the grave?" I asked. 
 
 I had looked and expected protection and sympathy from my mother, 
 but she had none to give me. "O keep my soul, and deliver me not 
 to mine enemies," was my prayer. The infuriated man, with knife 
 and pistol, hunted me like a wild beast everywhere. Every hour my
 
 200 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 life was in danger. I felt that in the colony there was no safety for me. 
 
 The chief men and women of the church met at Mr. N 's house, 
 
 where they invited Mr. D to come and confront me, and he could 
 
 state all his objections to my leaving him; also, to bring proofs of all 
 the charges he had brought against me from time to time. He came, 
 but was very guarded in what he said. He said he regretted my hav- 
 ing given them so much trouble, etc. He was asked to prove his 
 allegations; that was the business on hand. This he did not do, but 
 turned to me and hurled bitter words at me. He was again called 
 upon to prove what he had accused me of. He said his word was 
 enough. 
 
 "No," said they; "your word is of no value. You have falsified to 
 our knowledge." 
 
 He asked me if I were not willing "to go back to the comfortable 
 home you have left without a cause?" 
 
 "I have no home. Think you if I had such a husband and home 
 as you have represented, that I would be willing to exchange them, 
 with all the ease and comforts, and strong arms to protect, and a loving 
 heart to cherish me, for poverty and hard work ? Would I go forth to 
 meet a frowning world with its temptations, cares, pains and mortifica- 
 tions? humbling myself for employment to those who can neither 
 understand my situation, nor sympathize with it; to meet those who 
 would willingly heap affliction on affliction, and trample on the already 
 crushed heart, alone? O no; no one will say I went forth from all that 
 my heart might have held dear, without a cause," I said. 
 
 "If you will go, you must return to me all the gifts I ever gave you." 
 
 "Most willingly," I said; "name them." 
 
 The watch, a wedding gift, and all else, even to a little gold pencil 
 I had in daily use, were returned. The demon dancing in his eye, 
 and in his sneer, was noted by those present, when he said: 
 
 ' ' I have law on my side, and I can, and I think I will, strip you 
 now of all your wardrobe, except what you stand in." 
 
 ' ' Well, if the law permits you to do that, do it. I ask no consid- 
 eration or sympathy from you. You have planted thorns in my heart, 
 and they have torn it and it bleeds, and I know you have no desire to 
 heal the wounds you have made." 
 
 "When you hand your trunks over to me, as you must do, what will 
 you do then? Beg to be taken back with me?" 
 
 "No, no, never; I will go forth naked, poor, despised, forsaken, 
 friendless and alone, leaning on the arm of omnipotence, rather than
 
 SAD EXPERIENCE OF WEDDED LIFE. 201 
 
 ask anything of you, or live with you again. You talk of a separate 
 maintenance. I would not accept it, were you to offer it; I want noth- 
 ing from you, good or bad." 
 
 He said: "You hand over your trunks when I send for them, or," 
 and he held out a threat, and was about to leave, when one of the gen- 
 tlemen, an elder of the church, said : 
 
 "Mr. D , I have something to say to you ere you go. We have 
 
 heard your accusations, your circulated reports, and dark sayings 
 against your young and innocent wife, and we have acted upon them 
 
 as if they had all been true, and caused Mrs. D much unnecessary 
 
 suffering. We have done this, and in every case found your wife not 
 only free from blame, but the victim of diabolical plots, laid by you 
 and your friends. We know of your treachery in connection with die 
 power of attorney. You have done your utmost to destroy the repu- 
 tation and character of one of the members of the Baptist Church; 
 henceforth, she will be protected by the Church, as she has been in 
 your absence from the colony. We did not know at the time what 
 motive she had in asking the protection of one of our elders. We now 
 know, and commend her prudence. God has mercifully preserved 
 her through all the trials, fierce and strong, that you have made her 
 pass through. We do not wish to say much to you, but we know you. 
 Your false tongue, henceforth, will not protect you. If you raise your 
 voice to speak evil of one whom we protect, having proved her in 
 every way worthy, we shall prosecute you with rigor." 
 
 He was unmasked, and there he stood in all his native malignity, 
 with clouded brow and wrathful spirit. With muttered curses he left. 
 God had heard and answered my prayer. He did not deliver me to 
 my enemies, but he raised up friends for me in my greatest need. 
 
 *'God, my supporter and my hope, 
 My help, forever near; 
 Thine arm of mercy held me up, 
 When sinking in despair." 
 
 It was suggested that I should prosecute Mr. D for ill-treatment, 
 
 etc. 
 
 "No; I leave him in God's hands, I shall do him no harm. All I 
 desire is, if I live, to provide bread for myself honestly in the sight of 
 all men." 
 
 Letters of sympathy came to me from various quarters unexpectedly. 
 All the members of the church were exceedingly kind to me in my
 
 202 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 desolation. Among all my human friends, I may not overlook my 
 canine friend; a poor, little, black puppy, that I rescued from a cruel 
 master, because I pitied him, grew up under kind treatment to be a 
 fine English mastiff, perfectly devoted to me, and he had saved my 
 life one evening. But much as we loved each other, my friend Bob 
 and myself had to part. I was afraid, if he followed me in my wan- 
 derings, he might fare badly, so I provided for him a good home. I 
 went to say farewell to my four-footed friend, who had ever walked at 
 my side, and slept at my door. When the poor brute heard my voice, 
 he broke loose from his fastenings, and nearly devoured me with fran- 
 tic joy. His huge paws were planted on my shoulders, and he licked 
 my face. I put my arms round his neck, and wept at parting with 
 him. It took two strong men to draw him away from me. Poor Bob ! 
 he cried, and whined, and howled, and wriggled, and struggled to come 
 to me again. It was a hard parting, but it had to be. He did not long 
 survive. My friends, as well as myself, knew that my life was not safe 
 in the colony, and I had to leave. I was ready to go where the Lord 
 
 directed. The night before I sailed for New South Wales, Mr. N n's 
 
 house was well filled with the members of the church, who had come 
 to sup with me, and to commend me to the protecting care of my heav- 
 enly Father. I had letters of commendation and introduction. Every- 
 thing possible was done to smooth my rugged road. But a dull leth- 
 argy seemed to take hold of my mind and heart. My pulses grew cold, 
 and almost as still as the waveless, tideless surface of a deep, dark lake. 
 I could not shake off the despondency at the time. Longfellow has 
 said: "Look not back mournfully into the past, it comes not again. 
 Wisely improve the present. Go forth and meet the future without 
 fear, with a brave heart." I had no fear, nor had I courage. My 
 friends in great numbers escorted me to the port, and saw me on board 
 of the vessel that was to bear me to another land. Those who parted 
 with me that day expected to hear of the poor girl having found her 
 final resting-place at the bottom of the ocean ere the voyage ended. 
 But my summons did not come, much as it was expected.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 
 
 We sailed out of the Gulf of St. Vincent, through Backstairs Passage, 
 and out into the Great South Ocean. We had fine weather and fair 
 winds. Our course was southeast, till we reached the beautiful island 
 of Van Dieman's Land. We entered Storm Bay, at the south side of 
 the island, and took in a pilot, to steer our vessel up the beautiful Der- 
 went River, to our anchorage at Hobart Town. The banks of the 
 river were not high, but very picturesque. This gem of the Southern 
 Ocean is diversified by hill and dale, and green-tinted, so we might 
 name it after its sister of the North, Emerald Isle. Mt. Wellington, 
 the highest point on the island, forms a noble background to the city. 
 The island is well watered, and being in South latitude 44°, it has a 
 salubrious climate. It is divided from the main-land of Australia by 
 Bass Strait. It was settled by free colonists and convicts in 1803. They 
 united to exterminate the wretched savages, by forming a line across 
 the island, and swept all before them, killing and driving into the sea 
 all those who had been masters of the land ere they took possession of 
 it, and so ended the aboriginal race of this beautiful island. 
 
 As it was Sunday morning when we anchored, I went ashore. The 
 sun shone out in all his glory. I found in my walk a little chapel with 
 an open door, through which I walked, and took a seat. The Baptists 
 had planted a mission here. Presently little feet came pattering in, 
 and formed classes for a Sunday-school. The superintendent, seeing 
 a stranger, asked me to take a class, but I preferred to listen. I had 
 a drive to the foot of Mt. Wellington, and I enjoyed much my visit to 
 this ocean-girt isle, with its beautiful and varied scenery and salubrious 
 climate. 
 
 A singular incident happened on board, as we were sailing up the 
 Derwent. The pilot, a profane old convict, was at the helm swear- 
 ing, and telling the captain that of all the convicts sent to that island, 
 Scotchmen were the worst. In answer to what the captain said of the 
 Scotch being moral, he said: 
 
 "Yes; but when they arc bad, they are worse than other people. 
 
 (203)
 
 204 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I have one in the boat alongside, who is a perfect d — 1 in temper, but 
 the best worker I ever had." 
 
 I was curious to see a Scotch convict, and went and looked over the 
 side of the vessel to see if 1 could pick him out from his fellows. When 
 I looked down, I saw a face upturned to the sun ; for ugliness, it had 
 no peer. When I saw the bristling red hair, like a fringe of fire, sur- 
 rounding a small black cap, set on top of the head, two fierce, red 
 eyes, the gleaming tusk-like teeth, I cried out: 
 
 "Oh, that man comes from Paisley!" 
 
 In an instant he climbed up, and was over the side and on the ship's 
 deck, and said: 
 
 "I am from Paisley, who knows me?" 
 
 A gentleman pointed to me, for I had taken a seat as I looked at 
 the poor wretch. I thought he could do me no harm, though I was 
 afraid of him. I rose, and went toward him. I thought I might do 
 him some good by talking to him. He asked when and where I had 
 seen him before. I told him the circumstances that surrounded our 
 first meeting redounded no credit to him, so he had better make no 
 inquiries; but he insisted on knowing, and I told him in substance the 
 following : 
 
 As a child, I had a venturous spirit; I knew no fear. I had been 
 taught self-reliance early. I had been sent on a message to a farm- 
 house, one mile beyond the toll-gate near faisley, one beautiful spring 
 day. The pure air, the bright sun, the blue sky and the choristers of 
 the grove filling all space with their melody, made my heart bound 
 with joy, and I danced along the road to the music of the birds and 
 my own happy thoughts. I was in perfect accord with all nature. A 
 big boy overtook me and asked me my name, where I lived, where I 
 had been and my business, all of which questions I answered. He 
 asked me for the money I had received at the farm-house I had just 
 left; he would take care of it till we reached home. I stoutly refused 
 to give to another what was intrusted to me. Whilst talking to him, 
 I could not keep my eyes off him, he was so ugly and uncouth. Again 
 he asked me for the money. I told him he was an ugly, bad boy to 
 ask me for it, and I should not give it to him. We were just then 
 passing a gap in the neat-cut hawthorn hedge, through which streamed 
 a flood of light from the sun which was dipping toward the west. The 
 hideous boy threw down his basket, clutched me by the throat, and 
 raising aloft a huge butcher's knife, said: 
 
 "Give me the money, or I shall stab you and then I shall take it."
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 205 
 
 He looked monstrously ugly as he stood with the glittering blade 
 upraised. I bent down suddenly, gave myself a twist, and was in- 
 stantly free from his grasp, and with almost lightning speed fled back 
 to the house and told them of the horrid boy with tusk-like teeth and 
 red, glaring eyes, and a gleaming knife in hand. 
 
 That picture I had never forgotten, though I had never seen it from 
 the day the ugly boy threatened to take my life for a few shillings, 
 till I saw it in the face of the Scotch convict. 
 
 I remained at the farm-house all night, and in the morning I reached 
 home just in time to prevent my mother having the canal raked for my 
 body. She had taken a servant with her the night before to go and 
 meet me. On crossing a canal bridge my mother saw me, or thought 
 she saw me, leaning on the wall. She stretched out her hand to take 
 hold of me, when I vanished. She said to the servant : 
 
 "We may go home; Eliza is drowned. I have seen her wraith; 
 but I shall have the canal raked to-morrow for her body." 
 
 This I prevented by making my appearance. 
 
 The ugly boy went on in his career of crime till he landed in a 
 prison, and then was banished to the antipodes, where he suffered for 
 his evil deeds. 
 
 We reached Sydney after a pleasant three weeks' voyage without 
 accident. 
 
 On reaching Sydney, I found my sister married to a master mariner. 
 I was their guest for a short time. One morning I read in a news- 
 paper, "Wanted — Nursery governess." This I thought would suit 
 me, as I must earn my bread and be independent. I thought again, 
 the situation may suit me, but it may be that I will not suit the situa- 
 tion. Oh, God! a wife bereaved of her husband has no need to hide 
 her grief; it is a dead grief that time will heal, but the separated wife 
 carries a living grief that time can not heal, and delicacy prompts to con- 
 cealment. Before I went out, I knelt and asked God to give me favor 
 in the sight of those to whom I applied for the situation. In deep 
 humility I entered the gates of Granthamville Castle, the residence of 
 
 Mr. P , one of the merchant princes of New South Wales. Mrs. 
 
 P asked for credentials; I had none. But I said that I was will- 
 ing to perform every duty the situation required. I told her I needed 
 protection as well as a home, and they could give me both if they 
 thought I could suit them. I only claimed one privilege, that was, to 
 go to church on Sundays. 
 
 ' ' Many young persons have applied for the situation who have
 
 206 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 come highly recommended, with first-class credentials, but I prefer 
 you without credentials or recommendation, feeling assured that you 
 will discharge the duties faithfully," said Mrs. P . 
 
 My heart gave one great throb; my utterance was choked. I could 
 only bow my head in gratitude. Tears filled my eyes as I silently 
 thanked God for his providential care of me, the homeless, unprotected 
 one. 
 
 Now, I thought, I can provide for my mother. I shall pay all her 
 expenses, and she can live with her gay and worldly daughter, who is 
 her favorite. I intended to do everything for my mother's comfort 
 that lay in my power. At Granthamville Castle I had not only a com- 
 fortable home, but one of comparative ease and elegance. My sur- 
 roundings suited me in every way. The family was well regulated, 
 though fashionable. They went to, and gave balls; theaters and 
 operas were patronized, but nothing interfered with my duties, and I 
 discharged them with pleasure. A financial crash came, and all the 
 great houses shook to the center. The order of the day at Grantham- 
 ville Castle was retrenchment. Mrs. P was an exceedingly ami- 
 able woman. She told me one day that she was exceedingly sorry, 
 but for a time she would have to dispense with my services, for the 
 reason they could not pay me. I asked her if that was the only reason 
 she had for wishing to dispense with my services ? She stopped me, 
 and said: 
 
 "We do not wish to dispense with your services. We do not wish 
 to part with you, but we can not afford to pay you." 
 
 "Now I can show how grateful I feel to you for taking me into 
 your family without commendation of any kind, and giving me, when 
 you could, a liberal salary. I shall stay with you without salary till 
 the crisis is over and you are able to pay." 
 
 My salary was reduced for a time, that was all. 
 
 The castle grounds were beautifully laid out, and I had a favorite 
 little arbor under the wide-spreading branches of a majestic Norfolk 
 pine. Up the sides and round the arbor climbed a vine, till its ten- 
 drils reached and clasped the needle-shaped leaves of the tree, and 
 wove an impervious shelter from the sun. Many were the hours I 
 spent in this quiet nook. I had another quiet resort, but this was only 
 for moonlight nights, when the family were at a ball or theater. Then 
 I would unlock the door at the foot of the tower stairs, and go up to 
 the flat roof of the castle. On looking over the battlements, such grace, 
 such glory, such silence and repose could not, I thought, be seen else-
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 207 
 
 where, or at any other time. It was a dream-picture. The pale 
 empress of night, and queen of silence and sleep, walked before her 
 palace on the spangled firmanent of the skies, and looked down upon 
 the fairy scene, and by her softened light added beauty to the picture. 
 Tall ships were lying at anchor on the deep and placid waters of the 
 land-locked harbor. The quiet was profound; but at intervals the 
 silence was broken by the iron tongues and brazen mouths of a hun- 
 dred bells chiming the hour of night. Every vessel had a bell and a 
 watchman, who walked the deck and chimed the hour, and called out, 
 "All's well." These sounds broke the stillness of the night a moment, 
 and then the pulse of life seemed again to stand still. The beautiful 
 islands that stud the harbor lay gleaming in the moonlight. 
 
 Since Great Britain had ceased to pour her surplus criminals on the 
 shores of New South Wales, the hospital had undergone a great 
 change. It was freshly fitted up with special care for the comfort of 
 respectable free people. Sick strangers arriving had a ward prepared 
 for them. As I walked through the clean, cheerful, well-ventilated 
 wards, and saw the brisk, obliging nurses attentive to their duties, my 
 heart was glad. I saw nothing of the dark, lonesome, lazar house, 
 where lay all sorts of diseased patients, which I had seen when I lay on 
 the floor of the dark prison-like ward, waiting till a patient should die 
 and be tumbled into a coffin ere I could be tumbled on to her bed. 
 In gratitude to "Him who preserveth the stranger, and who relieveth 
 the fatherless," I subscribed as liberally as my income would allow 
 toward this institution', hoping that no other stranger or orphan would 
 ever be situated as I had been. 
 
 I paid my former guardians a visit. Mr. Holmes had built a beauti- 
 ful residence and had it well furnished. They had a beautiful garden, 
 and an orchard filled with all kinds of fruit-trees. They had purchased 
 improved land, and still further improved it. We sat down in one of 
 
 the pretty arbors and ate of the luscious fruits. Mrs. H told me 
 
 that she now, after some privation, had everything her heart desired ; 
 that now she was prepared to live and enjoy life. In the midst of life 
 we are in death. In three weeks from my visit she was in her 
 
 grave. Poor, dear Mrs. H , how sudden her exit from all that 
 
 her heart held dear. Mr. H came to me to tell me what her last 
 
 wishes were. She wished that I would take her place, enjoy her 
 home, and be a mother to her children, and he had come for me if I 
 would go; but I felt constrained to remain where I was. He said 
 that his wife had planned for our future well-being, and he wished to
 
 2oS THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 carry out her plans to the letter. I told him quietly, but emphatically, 
 so far as I was concerned it could not be, and no more was said. 
 
 How soon, I thought, even good men try to forget their best friend. 
 No sooner is one friend and companion hidden out of sight, than 
 another is sought for to replace the one that has gone, 
 
 I asked my sister who it was reclining on her parlor sofa one day. 
 
 She said it was Captain H. Van S , who was wrecked in the Indian 
 
 Ocean; had been picked up by her husband, and was now their guest. 
 I had deep sympathy for the shipwrecked stranger, and told her to be 
 kind to him. He is in a foreign land, far from all he loves; he may 
 have a mother, or a sister, who may bless you who have been kind to 
 him in the land of strangers, and you will never regret it. Next Sun- 
 day I dined at my sister's after church services, and Captain Van 
 
 S was introduced to me. He had a most pleasing accent, though 
 
 foreign; he spoke the English well; he looked a foreigner; his dress 
 was elegant, rich and sailor-like. He was like a young Saxon king, 
 with his golden, wavy hair arranged over a broad, white brow; the rest 
 of his face was bronzed. His eyes were of the deepest blue, where 
 truth and sincerity seemed to shine. He spoke little, but his voice 
 was pleasant to listen to. He sat opposite to me at table, and I 
 felt his gaze very often fastened on me, I felt a little confused, and 
 talked more than was my wont to cover my slight embarrassment. 
 When I was leaving to go home, he asked me if he might have the 
 pleasure of walking home with me. 
 
 "As you are a stranger," I said, "I have no objections to you walk- 
 ing with me part of the way, as there is some beautiful scenery 
 around the shores of the bay, under the oaks and acacias." 
 
 We parted at a turnstile. I said, laughingly : 
 
 "Thus far, and no farther, may you come." 
 
 I passed through, but he stood still, as if he had something to say, 
 and hesitated. I said good-bye, and left him standing. As I went up 
 the hill on the narrow, winding pathway, I could still see him standing, 
 and when I entered the lower garden gate of the castle, he was still 
 where I left him. The rays of the western sun fell full upon his stately 
 form, and, as seen through the trees, he looked like a sylvan deity. 
 On the Sunday following, I wound my way down to the turnstile, on 
 
 my way to church, and there stood H. Van S on the very spot I 
 
 had left him a week before. There was something ludicrous to me in 
 the coincidence. I was greatly amused; I almost laughed outright. 
 When our greetings were over, he asked me, in rather a grave tone>
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 209 
 
 what SO amused me. Like the Irishman, I answered him one question 
 by asking him another, which was: 
 
 "Have you been standing on that spot since I left you there last 
 week?" 
 
 "No," he said, and turned his great speaking eyes on my face, and 
 looked very steadily at me for some time. He seemed trying to read 
 my countenance. Mirth ruled the expression for the moment. "Your 
 mother," he said, "gave me permission to come and meet you as you 
 came to church; but you said thus far I could come and no farther, so 
 here I waited for you. I hope you forgive, if I have offended." 
 
 "I take no offense," I said, "when my wishes are respected." 
 
 I had no inclination now to laugh, he looked so grave and stately. 
 He asked me if I would take a sail down the harbor in a boat; the day 
 was fine; he would have great pleasure in my company. 
 
 "No, I can not go," I said. 
 
 He did not understand why I could not go with him, and he said : 
 
 "I am a stranger to you, but you can take your mother with you. 
 I shall not be long in the colony, and I wish to be as much with you 
 as possible, if you will allow me so great happiness." ' 
 
 "I like to make people happy," I said, "and if you wish to be in 
 my company to-day, come with me to church, and Mr. Saunders will 
 do you good." 
 
 "Oh, I have not been in church since I was a boy, eleven years 
 since. My idolized mother and sister took me there. I feel ashamed 
 to say it, but I fear I would not know how to behave myself in church, 
 were I to go." 
 
 "All you will have to do is to sit still and listen." 
 
 He gave up the boat excursion, and came to church, and Mr. Saun- 
 ders had not a more attentive listener that day than the handsome 
 foreigner. Once I saw tears in his eyes. On leaving church, he said : 
 
 "You are the only one who has ever reminded me of home, and 
 loved ones there. I have a beloved sister, whom you resemble in char- 
 acter, if not in person." 
 
 His heart seemed full while talking of his sister. On the hearts of 
 some men, the power of female beauty, either of mind or body, is 
 utterly despotic, not for an hour, or a day, but for a lifetime. In the 
 souls of some men, the ideal of all grace and beauty, of all purity and 
 
 loveliness, is a woman. Such a man was H. Van S , He said, the 
 
 first time he heard me speak, he was carried back to the low, soft, 
 sweet music of his cradle hymn. I was a memory of a gentle voice 
 14
 
 2IO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 lulling him to sleep, and soothing his childhood's sufferings with holy 
 accents. All the disappointments of life could not destroy it; all the 
 contact with unwomanly women did not eradicate it. It clung to his 
 heart through a changeful life. Others had made a pleasing impression 
 on his mind, and inspired him to some self-sacrificing; but since the 
 day he first heard my voice, saying, be kind to the stranger, he may 
 have a mother, or a sister, or both, who love him, he said: 
 
 "Your words thrilled me, and I loved the speaker ere I saw her 
 face. The words I would speak to you, to tell you how I love you, 
 flutter in my throat, and make me a child. I am your willing, devoted 
 slave from this day to all eternity. I love you with a love surpassing 
 what I ever felt before for mortal. Will you be my wife?" 
 
 I was astonished, electrified, by this burst of passionate love from the 
 
 dignified H. Van S . I was so taken by surprise that I could not 
 
 speak; when I found utterance, I said to him: 
 
 ' ' I am not a widow, though you may have been told so, my husband 
 is alive," and the words nearly choked me. 
 
 "The laws of your land will allow you to marry in a few years. I 
 will wait five, seven, or even twenty years for you, if you will promise 
 to be mine." 
 
 ' ' The laws of man may allow me to marry, but I have a higher law 
 than that of man to obey. Hear what God's law says: 'The woman 
 who has a husband is bound by the law to her husband as lohg as he 
 liveth ; but if the husband be dead, she is loosed from the law of her 
 husband.' Do not ask me to break the law of God, if you respect me." 
 
 "A new life has taken possession of me, and I can not live without 
 you, or a hope to have you some day. My heart is full, full to painful 
 oppression, in this new feeling. Nothing has power to influence me 
 now, that could have wielded an influence before. You are the only 
 one who has ever been able to fill my heart; you are a priceless treas- 
 ure. Do not say that my deep, devoted love is all in vain." 
 
 "All in vain," I ejaculated. 
 
 "O my G — , I love you above all created beings; I ask your love, 
 I tremble for your answer. If you refuse me, and give me no hope 
 for the future, I am lost, soul and body. I shall"- . 
 
 His voice became husky as he spoke the last words. We reached 
 the turnstile, the parting place. He held my hand tight aS he handed 
 me through, and begged me to give him hope, that some day he might 
 call me his. I said I had no power to dispose of myself; I belonged 
 to another —
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 211 
 
 "And more, I will say, as you do not regard my feelings or princi- 
 ples, henceforth we meet no more. I dare not listen to such words 
 of passion from any man.'' 
 
 We parted as usual, but in what a turmoil were my feelings. I 
 bounded up the hill, in at the garden gate, and away to my little retreat 
 under the Norfolk pine, and there I sat a long time trying to analyze 
 my feelings. They were sadly confused; pain, pleasure, and discon- 
 tent at my unhappy fate, were each asserting itself. I felt that life 
 had no joy for me, no happiness. Other young people could enjoy 
 life but my young life was blighted. I was entirely shut out from all 
 enjoyment in life. "Why have I been born to suffer?" I exclaimed. 
 When my fit of rebellious discontent was over, I walked quietly to the 
 house. When I looked around, and saw with what comfort and secur- 
 ity I was surrounded, I asked God to pity me, and forgive my rebel- 
 lion. On going to church next Sunday, I was troubled to see H. Van 
 
 S walking on the beach near the turnstile. I greeted him coldly; 
 
 he noticed the coldness, and said: 
 
 "Fear not, I have no intention to offend you again, or wound your 
 feelings. I come to say farewell ; I leave the colony in a few days, 
 but my heart carries your image in it." 
 
 I was silent; I had nothing to say. He looked pale and haggard. 
 He had been ill, and I felt sorry for him, but could not say so. He 
 hoped I would forgive him; as we might never meet again, he wished 
 our parting to be friendly. I told him I forgave him, as he was so soon 
 to leave the country. I wished him well, and hoped he would be 
 happy. A few days later I received a farewell gift, and a letter, which 
 breathed the most passionate, devoted love that man could pen to 
 
 woman. H. Van S was far out at sea ere I received his gift, 
 
 otherwise it would have been returned. I burned the letter with its 
 burning words. A note from my mother read thus: "Why did you 
 
 stand in your own light? H. Van S is all that you can wish. He 
 
 is young, handsome, strong and true; he is rich, and loves you to dis- 
 traction. Why did you not give the poor man some encouragement 
 for the future, if not for the present? You have made him perfectly 
 miserable." 
 
 Had I done as my mother counseled, I might have reproached 
 myself for the "poor man's misery." This I had not done, and little 
 did my mother think of the misery she was giving me by her reproaches. 
 A stranger and a strong man had all her .sympathy, while her own 
 child, a poor, weak woman, who needed all the sympathy that a
 
 212 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 mother's heart could give, was entirely shut out of that heart. What 
 I suffered none knew. In the married state, a woman has dignity, 
 security and respect to attend her; but a heavy cloud, like a pall, 
 hangs over the path of the separated. She has no home cares, no 
 home occupations, and the world can not sympathize in her injuries. 
 I often prayed that my heart would be entirely weaned from the world, 
 and when I thought I was becoming a little more heavenly-minded, a 
 wave of temptation would cross my breast. I had severe struggles in 
 my heart at this time. Outwardly, all was passing as a peaceful 
 dream. I was cut off from all domestic happiness, and down in the 
 hidden chambers of the heart many a fierce battle was fought, unseen 
 by the eye of mortal; but God saw, and he gave me the needed 
 strength. 
 
 Weeks and months passed on, and I was following the even tenor 
 of my way, when my sister called to see me one day, and asked me 
 to walk with her on her way home, as she could not stay long with 
 me. I walked down to the beach with her, where we met her hus- 
 band, which was a pleasant surprise to me. We three walked on till 
 we reached a grove of acacia, where was a table-cloth spread on the 
 ground. 
 
 "Oh!" I said, "here in the acacia grove is a picnic party!" 
 
 "Yes," said my mother, as she rose from the ground, and "I in- 
 vite you to partake of our good cheer." 
 
 Then she introduced me to a strange gentleman of morose aspect, 
 who was of their party. All this was so unexpected the novelty 
 pleased me. Before I sat down, my mother threw around my shoul- 
 ders a beautiful Canton crape shawl. 
 
 "Oh, how beautiful; whose is this?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Yours," said a voice that startled me. 
 
 I looked round, and there stood H. Van S . I did not speak. 
 
 He drew near, and asked in a low tone if I would accept of a broth- 
 er's gift. 
 
 "I bought it for you at Canton, and I purposed sending it to you, 
 but your mother planned this party, and invited me to meet you here 
 and present you this." 
 
 I did not stay long. H. Van S wished to escort me to the turn- 
 stile, but I refused all company, and so walked home alone. He had 
 returned to the colony, because, as he said to my mother, he could 
 not stay away from where I was, but he did not wish to let me know 
 of his return, as he did not wish to offend me, or hurt my feelings in
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 213 
 
 any way. My mother, not having the same tender regard for my 
 feehngs, planned the picnic to bring us together. I saw very clearly 
 
 that all were sympathizers in H. Van S 's case. He met me next 
 
 Sunday without asking my permission; this freedom I felt like resent- 
 ing. I told him I preferred to walk alone. He said he would not 
 have taken the liberty to intrude on my solitary walk, but that my 
 mother had sent him to meet me. And said he : 
 
 "I was only too happy to come." 
 
 The tone, and the look that accompanied the words, made me re- 
 solve to speak to him freely, and try to enlist his honor, if I could not 
 control his feelings. 
 
 "Mr. Van S , my mother is a great friend of yours, and gives 
 
 you every encouragement to address me ; more than that, she pleads 
 your cause with me. She is exceedingly desirous that I shall marry. 
 She sees no wrong in it, and she wishes me to marry you," I said. 
 
 "Here his whole countenance lit up with a joyous expression, and 
 he said : 
 
 "Oh, will you be mine?" 
 
 "Hush," I said, "till I finish what I have to say. Captain W 
 
 and my sister favor your suit, all are your friends; not one friend have 
 I. They say you are unhappy, that I have made you so; they are all 
 angry with me because I do not encourage you, by making you a 
 promise that would stain my soul with sin. Now I turn to you and 
 ask you, on the honor of a gentleman, if you will be my friend ?" 
 
 "I am yours ever, even unto death," exclaimed the impetuous, 
 passionate man. 
 
 ' ' Well, if you have (I speak plainly) one spark of generous, genu- 
 ine love for me, you will not ask me to be your wife, or ask a promise 
 to that effect, for I tell you, as I have told you before, that I can not 
 comply and be guiltless. It were better had we never met, as we 
 can never be anything to each other but what we are now. Once 
 more I ask, will you, on the honor of a man, a sailor, be my friend, 
 and leave the colony, and never seek to see me again? Respect my 
 feelings under the unhappy circumstances in which I am placed. 
 Respect my scruples, and do not plead a devoted love that would 
 destroy me only to gratify your selfish desires. Again I ask, will you 
 be my friend and leave the colony?" 
 
 "No," he said; "I will not leave the colony at this time. The 
 love I have for you is no fleeting feeling, nor can I command it away. 
 It is like a lava flood boiling in my breast; but I will .show you that
 
 214 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the fire that consumes i"ne shall never injure you. Will you give me 
 the privilege to call you sister?" 
 
 "Only on one condition," — 
 
 Before I could say more, he rejoined, "I will comply." 
 
 I had thought that love in man was something apart from himself, 
 
 which travel would quench or strangle. H tried to conceal his 
 
 unhappiness; he was generous and gentle to me in every way; he 
 attended church regularly with me. I made him a present of an English 
 Bible, and asked him to read it, which he promised to do. Every 
 time I saw him, he seemed more unhappy; but oh, how kind and 
 considerate of me. His silent suffering was more dangerous to my 
 peace than his passionate outbursts had been. I felt a deep pity, but 
 dared not to express it. He told me. one day that he was ill and must 
 take a voyage for his health. I did not dissuade him. I was glad for 
 his sake that he was going, but for myself I felt that I would miss my 
 stately escort, my kind, considerate friend and brother. Had he loved 
 me less, I should have been proud of his friendship. I felt that I was 
 a woman rich in sorrow, to whom love would have been precious had 
 it not been sinful. Love in this life is not for me. The tempter said: 
 
 "You ought to marry H. Van S and make him happy. The 
 
 law will allow it, and you could be more useful and happy in an en- 
 larged sphere." 
 
 The arch tempter knew where my armor was weakest, and tried his 
 strength against it. My eyes were often dim with tears. Sorrow 
 swept over the chords of my heart and brought forth sad, wailing 
 sounds. I asked myself, 
 
 "Why this sadness?" 
 
 I could not reproach myself for anything I had said or done. I 
 had subdued my impulses in obedience to principle. I had sacrificed 
 a present for a future good. My self- approving works did not add to 
 my happiness' or peace of mind. ' ' Lord, I have foes without and 
 within, the world, the flesh and my own heart; help me to subdue 
 them, and keep me by thy word." 
 
 Once more after a short voyage my sailor brother returned. I be- 
 lieve I felt glad to see him ; yet a fear was mingled with the feeling. 
 He appeared cheerful and happy, and in good health, for which I felt 
 thankful. I did hope he was free from his infatuation. Vain hope, 
 the calm only precluded a storm. A young lady friend of my moth- 
 er was to be married. I was invited, and came to town to dress at my 
 sister's. As I came to the turnstile, there stood the figure I began to
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH -WALES. 215 
 
 think was part of the scene, and ought to be there. He was in high 
 spirits, and had I not known that he drank neither wine nor strong 
 drink, I should have thought he had been imbibing, so full of hilarity 
 was he. His nature was fiery enough without fire-water. I had used 
 my influence with him to give up drinking and using tobacco in any 
 form, and attend church with me. I greatly desired to see him con- 
 verted to Christianity, and I thought he was in a fair way to become 
 a Christian. His widowed mother and only sister were truly pious 
 ladies of a very superior order, according to the showing of the affec- 
 tionate son and brother. I almost forgot that he was not my brother 
 in reahty, when he would call me sister. His brotherly friendship was 
 very pleasant to me. I was putting the last touch to my mother's 
 headgear ; H was sitting near conversing pleasantly. 
 
 "My Eliza, let me call you mine," burst from his lips in uncon- 
 trollable passion. 
 
 I was startled and silenced at the same time. 
 
 "Speak to me, adored one; your voice thrills my very soul. The 
 love I have for you is unquenchable; it is deep, devoted and ever- 
 lasting. I have fled from you hopelessly. I have tried to shun you. 
 I have sought refuge on the dangerous deep. I have tried to forget 
 you; but love's charm that binds me to you has drawn your willing 
 captive back, often to grief and disappointment. Yet, while near 
 you, my soul is filled with joy. I feel that I can not live without you. 
 You are queen of my heart, every pulse of which beats for you, and 
 you alone." 
 
 I tried to speak, but he cried out in a perfect tempest of passion : 
 
 " Hear me, and save me, or I die. Be mine, my wife, my all, and 
 you shall live like a queen. I shall surround you with wealth such as 
 you never dreamed of. Marry me and come to Rotterdam, where 
 my mother and sister will give you a royal welcome. Or come to 
 Batavia, where you shall be my worshiped idol, and reign supreme. 
 My love is deep and strong; absence can not abate it. I have tried 
 it." 
 
 He took my hand and fell on his knees before me; great tears fell 
 from his eyes on my hand as he bent over it, and said: 
 
 "Give me this," in a voice tremulous with emotion. 
 
 I said, as I drew my hand from his: "For pity's sake do not kneel 
 to me. I tell you again that my hand is not mine to give you." 
 
 When I said this, he raised his head, and a glance of fire shot from 
 his eyes that made me quake. His passionate outburst made me
 
 2 1 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tremble. I told him I was only a mortal, not to kneel to me, for I 
 could not help him, but to kneel to God, and ask for help to overcome 
 his fatal human passion, that was destroying my peace as well as his, 
 not that I loved him, for that I, dared not do, but it made me unhappy 
 to see others suffer." 
 
 "Your self-control has gained my esteem, but you will lose it by 
 giving way to such outbursts of passion; for in these you do not con- 
 sider the pain you inflict upon me, and I may not expose myself to 
 such scenes as this." 
 
 He rose, and walked the floor in great perturbation for some time; 
 then he stood before me, and asked : 
 
 "Eliza, were you free, could you love me? could you marry me?" 
 
 "H , I am not free, I can not answer these questions; do not 
 
 press them on me. I have already told you, that a wife is bound by 
 the law of her husband as long as he lives; but if cruelty drives her 
 from the protection of her husband and her home, the Bible says: 
 'But, and if she depart, let her remain unmarried.' This is not only 
 my intention, but my duty, and unalterable determination." 
 
 ' ' And that man, for his cruelty to you, shall die by my hand, or I 
 shall die by his; we shall not both live. I shall go to him, and chal- 
 lenge him to mortal combat; one of us must die. If I live, I shall 
 come back, and carry you away to my home, where you shall never 
 know a sorrow. You shall be all my own, my darling." 
 
 Love to this man's impassioned soul was not, as with other men, a 
 part of his existence, but the whole, the very life-breath of his heart. 
 His words roused me, and with mingled feelings of pity, fear and anger, 
 I laid my hand on his arm, and said solemnly: 
 
 " H , we must part, never, never more to meet on earth. Think 
 
 you, were you to imbrue your hand in the blood of another, and that 
 
 other my I can not say the word; but think you I would marry 
 
 a murderer? I thought you knew better; I thought you had respect 
 for my feelings; I thought I had a friend in you; I thought I had al- 
 most found a brother. I was gaining confidence in your strength of 
 character, and beginning to have pleasure in your society. The pleas- 
 ure has been short lived; the pain you have inflicted will be more last- 
 ing. I am fearfully punished for allowing myself to have pleasure in 
 your company. I might have known it was no brother's heart you 
 offered me, when you pleaded for the privilege to call me sister. I do 
 not blame you, I take all the blame on myself; but we meet not again." 
 One of his officers called to see him on business. I was glad to make
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 217 
 
 my escape. My mother asked me what made me look so pale. I told 
 her I was going home, and not to the wedding. This she positively 
 
 forbade me doing. H , at the party, astonished me by showing a 
 
 new phase of character. He was not only the handsomest, but the 
 most brilliant, man at the party. His conversation was full of sparkle 
 and humor; he charmed everyone. The bride whispered to me : 
 
 "What a splended man your friend is." 
 
 I smiled. 
 She said: "You do not seem to appreciate his powers to please. 
 He is stealing all the hearts of the young ladies, and of the gentlemen 
 too. All are delighted with hmi; he is very handsome." 
 
 "Yes, he is," I said. 
 
 At supper a toast was to be drunk to the ladies. I looked at H , 
 
 whose gaze was fastened on me with an intensity that I could ill brook. 
 He raised the goblet to his lips; he drank a deep draught, keeping his 
 eyes fixed on me the whole time. I returned the steady gaze till he 
 laid the goblet down. Dancing began ; he asked me to dance. I told 
 him I did not dance; he asked me if I refused to dance because I was 
 angry with him. 
 
 "Oh, no, Mr. H , I am not angry with you, nor do you influ- 
 ence my actions in any way." 
 
 Others were pleased to dance with the handsome foreigner. I told 
 
 my mother I wished to go home unobserved by H , as I did not 
 
 wish to speak to him. I put on my hat and cloak, and slipped out with 
 the bridegroom to the carriage, and there stood H , holding the car- 
 riage door open for me, and my mother seated on the front seat. I 
 asked her to sit by me, but she paid no heed. My mother, on leaving, 
 had signaled H that I was going, and he was ready. 
 
 "Oh, mother!" I sighed, as H jumped into the carriage and 
 
 sat down beside me. 
 
 We had not gone far, when, full of his all-absorbing theme, he burst 
 forth in most impassioned eloquence, pleading for God's sake, for love's 
 sake, if there was love on earth, not to let him love in vain. My 
 mother's presence did not check the burning torrent. I well knew that 
 wine made his words flow faster than usual, and I did not answer a 
 word. He caught me in his arms, and said: 
 
 "Let me clasp you to my throbbing heart this once. This throbbing 
 is for you; feel it, and till this poor heart ceases to beat, you are its 
 life, and shall never be dislodged."
 
 2lS THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I let him speak on, but answered him not. When I reached the cas- 
 tle gate, I asked H '- to let me out; he helped me to alight. 
 
 "Thank you," I said, and passed in, but not before I heard a stifled 
 groan, and the carriage drove off. 
 
 My own griefs lay heavy on my heart, and this man's sorrow did 
 but augment them. I resolved that the deep, blue sea must lie be- 
 tween us. When I reached my room, I sighed: "Oh, my poor, weary, 
 care-haunted heart." I asked God to pity me, and give me strength 
 to carry out my firm resolve. I was not in rebellious humor; I was 
 low at my Savior's feet. , I felt strong, when I thought of the dreadful 
 threat of a duel to be fought. I lay down to dream of bitter hate and 
 cruel wrong driving me from one colony, and the passionate love of 
 this man driving me from another colony; for I had resolved to leave 
 the colony if H did not. 
 
 I awoke, crying out, "Oh, why was I born? why have I so keen a 
 sense of misery? I can not be happy myself, nor can I make others 
 happy." "Happy is the man whom God correcteth; therefore, des- 
 pise not the chastenings of the Almighty. For he maketh sore, and 
 he bindeth up; he woundeth, and his hands make whole. He shall 
 deliver thee in six troubles yea, in seven there shall no evil touch 
 thee." (Job V. 17.) How full of comfort is the word of God. 
 
 Next day my mother came to see me. She said H was in great 
 
 trouble; he thought he had offended me, and he wished to see me to 
 beg my forgiveness. I told her to tell him that he had not offended 
 me, and I had forgiven him everything, so that he need not wish to 
 see me on his own account, but that I wished to see him on my account. 
 
 I told my mother that I thought H. Van S 's welfare was more 
 
 dear to her heart than mine. I believed that she had held out hopes 
 to him concerning me, which, had they been realized, would have de- 
 stroyed my prospects for eternity. 
 
 "And this, my mother, you were willing to sacrifice — for what? 
 But it has come to an end, for he or I must leave the colony." 
 
 "Ha! ha! Is the colony not large enough for you both?" 
 
 "Yes; quite large enough, but the fever of excitement I have been 
 living in lately is unendurable. My peace of mind is dear to myself, 
 if not to you. You do not understand my feelings ; you do not ap- 
 preciate my principles. If you have come to me to plead for your 
 
 son, as you call H. Van S , it is to no purpose. My course is 
 
 resolved on; I shall not change. You do not know me, and I have 
 had enough of him. I shall see him once more; I have somewhat to
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 219 
 
 say to him." We met. He was dreadfully excited; I was perfectly 
 calm. He begged me not to cast him off forever; he would never 
 offend again, in word or deed. 
 
 "I shall wait seven, fourteen, twenty years for you, if you will give 
 the shadow of a hope that you will be mine in the end. Meantime, 
 only let me wait on you sometimes." 
 
 ' ' I shall not allow you to wait on me, and if you choose to wait for 
 me, any number of years, you are at liberty to do so, but I hold out 
 no hope to you that I shall marry you. I make no promise; but I 
 shall leave the colony if you do not. Henceforth we are strangers. 
 I am weary with your importunities. What I could give I give freely; 
 but my friendship, you said, did not satisfy your great love. But the 
 love that would seek to destroy its object is not worthy its name. I 
 have tried to influence you to be a Christian ; you have tried, with 
 my mother's help, to unchristianize me. But it has come to an end." 
 
 "By h n, Eliza, if you give me up forever, I shall commit sui- 
 cide. I shall not live, and my blood shall lie at your door." 
 
 His despairing cry horrified me; but I said: "Your blood will be 
 upon your own head. Your threat to commit so dark a crime, is an- 
 other proof that I have no influence with you for good, so farewell." 
 
 "I can not, can not, let you go," he said. 
 
 But I was gone. I saw him no more in the colony. He left soon 
 after for the Indian Archipelago. 
 
 Three times I had disappointed my mother's worldly prospects in 
 myself. She could not brook the religion that made me, as she said, 
 stand in my own light. She was yet of the world worldly. 
 
 I loved my mother, and if I could only gain her love, I thought I 
 could be happy. On one occasion when visiting her, she seemed 
 more affectionate than I had ever seen her. I felt that I was gaining 
 ground, and I was so thankful. What a blessing is yet to be mine, I 
 thought and hoped. No greater earthly blessing do I crave than my 
 dear mother's love. I felt unwilling to leave her. I told her I was 
 sorry that I could not surround her with all the appliances of wealth 
 that she wished for, but she should be cared for and loved as long as 
 I lived, and I should live only for her. 
 
 "Good-bye, dear mother, my own dear mother, I shall see you 
 soon again." 
 
 She smiled, and I left her. That night she was married to the re- 
 pulsive looking gentleman I had seen at the picnic. This marriage 
 was a bitter stroke to me. It was a death-blow to the hope of gaining
 
 220 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 my mother's love. The shock and disappointment caused me to 
 droop, and for sometime I was laid on a sick-bed. My mother came 
 to see me, and told me to get well and come and see her. I had no 
 reproaches. I felt, however, that I had lost my mother. To go and 
 see her in her new home was distasteiul to me, but I went. Her hus- 
 band showed me all over his premises and grounds. He told me he 
 had a desire to adopt me, and make me his heiress, as he had no family. 
 He asked me to call him father, and to feel that now I had a home, 
 and to come to it, and enjoy it. I told him that I could not accept of 
 his property even, without a condition. I could not live dependent 
 on him while I had the power and will to work. I did not love him 
 well enough to call him father, and I did not love money enough to act 
 the hyprocrite to get it. He asked if this was my decision. 
 
 "Yes," I said. 
 
 "Then you will live to regret it." 
 
 I have lived a long time since, but I have never had a regret about 
 it.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 
 
 Mr. P and family were about to leave the colony for Europe. 
 
 He asked me if I would like to travel. I readily said yes. I felt 
 that a change would do me good, not only a change of air and scene, 
 but a total revolution in the atmosphere of thought and feeling, in 
 which I had lately lived. The Sir George Seyt?iour, an East India- 
 man, a three-decker, was ready for sea, and Mr. P took passage 
 
 in her. All vessels are feminine, though they be christened with 
 masculine names. Preparations were being made for a lour months' 
 voyage on this large ship. We were to be absent from the colony two 
 years, and I had to attend to paying up all my annual subscriptions 
 for the time I expected to be absent. The money I intrusted to Dr. 
 McFarland, my fatherly friend, of the Portland ship. He was at the 
 head of the profession; he was President of the Medical Board, and 
 highly esteemed. When I gave him the money to pay my subscrip- 
 tions for two years, he laughed, and said : 
 
 ' ' Why, I never knew any one to pay in that way before. The time 
 any one is absent from the colony is a blank in the book of subscrip- 
 tions, and is not expected to be filled up." 
 
 "Man does not make rules for my actions," I said. 
 
 "Well, well, be it as you say," said the doctor. 
 
 I bade my mother farewell, praying God to keep her in his care. 
 I said, if all went well I purposed returning in two years. I had a 
 faint, cold fear that we should never meet on earth. I prayed that 
 we might meet in heaven. 
 
 "You are not going to die yet; you will be back again," said my 
 mother. 
 
 "It may be ; but I am about to brave the dangers of the deep again, 
 and I may never see land again after I embark ; farewell." 
 
 This was final; we never met again; but I lived to return. My 
 farewells were all spoken before I embarked. The confusion on board 
 ship, when the anchor is being weighed, the sails set, and freight being 
 stowed away, jars disagreeably on the feelings at the sad and solemn 
 
 (221)
 
 422 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 time of parting with friends. When I go on board ship, I wish to 
 have nothing to do but to prepare for coming events, such as sea- 
 sickness, and tossing on the billows. We were being towed down 
 
 the harbor Mr. A , a black-haired, black-eyed, dark-skinned 
 
 young gentleman, a relative of Mrs. P 's, who lived in the family, 
 
 and with whom I had formed a pleasant acquaintance, was standing in 
 the saloon drinking a farewell goblet of wine with some gentlemen 
 friends. He stepped out from amongst them as I passed to my cabin, 
 to say that he had something to say to me of importance. His man- 
 ner was unusual, but I listened to him. He told me in a few words 
 that he wished me to go back to Sydney with him. I, in some aston- 
 ishment, asked for what purpose ? 
 
 "I wish you to go back with me to get married: will you go?" he 
 said. 
 ■ "No," I said very emphatically. 
 
 *' I have wished for a long time to tell you how much I loved you, but 
 I feared my relations. They would object to my marriage. Now I do 
 not fear them. I only fear to lose you. Do not go to England; come 
 back with me, and let us be married privately." 
 
 He was quite conscious of his glorious, full black eyes, raven hair, 
 and tall, well-knit frame. He knew he had power to attract, and no 
 doubt he thought that he had attracted me by his manly beauty, and 
 flattered me by his attractions. If thus he thought, he must have been 
 very much chagrmed, when I told him that I had never even ranked 
 him amongst my friends. I had found him a very pleasant acquaint- 
 ance, and this acquaintance might cease at any moment. 
 
 ' ' I long have loved you, and I thought you knew it and returned 
 it, and now I wish to marry you. I shall go back in the tow steamer 
 and bring my own boat from the Bay, and carry you back with me." 
 
 ' ' You are very courteous to brave the displeasure of your relatives 
 on my account, but were the relation you fear most standing by listen- 
 ing (and she was standing very near eaves-dropping) to your proposal to 
 me, I would say to you in her presence, I will not marry you just 
 because you have asked me. I have no love for you." 
 
 ' ' Come back, and marry me ; you will learn to love me, and you 
 may be the saving of me from going to perdition, by teaching me to 
 be a Christian." 
 
 "Were I to do as you counsel, I could not save you from perdition, 
 but you might help to plunge me into its lowest depths. Were all your
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 223 
 
 relations to approve of what you propose, I would still tell you that it 
 is not in my power to love you, nor in my choice to marry you." 
 
 I suggested to him, that he would do well to pay his addresses to a 
 young lady friend of his, and a relation; she was a more eligible per- 
 son than I. He said : 
 
 "No; where my heart has gone I offer my hand, and nowhere else. 
 You must not go to Europe; you ijiust come back with me." 
 
 "Passengers aboard!" called out the master of the tow steamer. 
 We let go the anchor at the Sea Gate, or Heads, and were going to 
 wait for a fair wind to fill our sails; meanwhile, those who had come 
 
 thus far had to return with the steamer. I said good-bye to Mr. A . 
 
 He kissed my hand, saying, "I shall see you again." 
 
 Later in the evening, I was placing things in my cabin, and putting 
 it in ship-shape order, when I was startled by a loud knock on my door. 
 I opened it, and there stood Mr. A . I said to him : 
 
 "I thought you had gone back to Sydney several hours ago. Why 
 do you linger? The ship may sail at any time." 
 
 He said he had gone back to Sydney for his boat, and it was along- 
 side waiting for me. 
 
 "Come with me; come away at once! " . 
 
 His headstrong passion seemed to carry him away for the time being, 
 and beclouded his reason. I felt somewhat sad, as I listened to his 
 impassioned words. 
 
 "I am going to Europe," I said; "but I wish you every happiness, 
 more than I can bring to you." 
 
 He said I alone could make him happy. He said if I would not 
 return with him that night, he would wait the whole two years for me, 
 till I did return from Europe. He kept his word, and did not marry 
 till I revisited New South Wales, not in two, but in ten whole years. 
 He parted with me unwillmgly; his farewell sounded mournful in my 
 ear, when he took my hand, and whispered: "You can not teach me 
 to forget. Farewell!" 
 
 A fair, fresh breeze sprang up with the rising sun. The anchor was 
 weighed once more, and the broad wings spread wide, and gloriously 
 our noble ship bounded on her course southeast across the Pacific 
 Ocean. I felt bowed in spirit, and regretted having listened to Mr. 
 
 A just before leaving, but I could not avoid it. How will it be in 
 
 the future? I asked myself. The black shadow, dark as night, envel- 
 oped my life, and stretched away into the future over my whole exist- 
 ence. The gloom grew darker, and seemed to settle on my breast like
 
 224 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 a huge incubus. The motion of the ship made me reel and stagger. 
 I lay down and slept, and dreamed, and awoke, and slept, and dreamed 
 again, the same horrid dream. When I awoke, I tried to shake off the 
 effects of the dream, but I could not shake off the sea-sickness. After 
 a few days' sufferings, I was myself again. Life once more took root 
 in my frame. As soon as I could, I got upon deck, and grew strong. 
 One evening I watched the sun go down into the water, and soon it 
 was night on the wave. Presently a feeble light stole over the sky, as 
 the moon rolled up into the deep, blue vault above, from the dark cav- 
 erns below. The moon had risen, and thrown her beams athwart the 
 deep, and there she hung like a gem upon the brow of the sky, dark- 
 ness below, and light on high. I watched the dark clouds in the dis- 
 tance, how they were lit up, as they neared the great luminary of 
 night. I thought of the dark clouds enshrouding my life, and then I 
 looked to the great moral luminary of the world, the source of life and 
 light, and the clouds, though not removed, were rifted, and light shone 
 through the darkness, and a still, small voice whispered : ' ' Fear not, 
 I am with you." I retired with a calm and thankful heart. 
 
 As thought, ever busy, kept me awake one night, I noticed my 
 swinging lamp give a plunge greater than usual; first this way, then 
 that, then a dash toward me, a rush to the other side, then a tremulous 
 shaking, and then another plunge. I felt that this would be a night of 
 storm. The winds whistled through the shrouds with a hissing sound, 
 that was portentous. Ere day broke a heavy gale was blowing, with 
 a rolling sea, that made the ship roll and pitch much in fashion like 
 the lamp. The sublime monotony of the Pacific was disturbed; its 
 usually quiet surface was lashed into great waves, and they were fear- 
 lessly dashing against the sides of the ship, and over the deck, sweep- 
 ing everything before them. Everything was adrift. One of the 
 stewards was nearly drowned in the captain's cabin. A great sea broke 
 over the ship, the water rushed into the cabin, dashed him against the 
 wall, and nearly smothered him. I rather enjoyed the storm, at least 
 I had no apprehensions, though the time of equinoctial storms and 
 gales was at hand. A fine day, a fair wind, and a tranquil sea, put to 
 flight all the dismal thoughts and reflections of those who were not ac- 
 customed to storms, and were nervous. It is imiDOSsible to resist the 
 gladdening influences of fair winds and fine weather at sea. When the 
 ship is decked in all her canvas, every sail set and swelled, and career- 
 ing gayly over the curling waves, how lofty, how gallant, she appears; 
 how she seems to lord it over the deep. Our captain was a gentleman,
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 225 
 
 no doubt, but he was no sailor. It was well for him, the ship and the 
 passengers, of whom we had a goodly number, that his officers were 
 efficient men, with large nautical experience. They took the storm 
 that we had as a warning to prepare for a greater, and they prepared 
 accordingly, and on a large scale. They calked all our port holes, ex- 
 cluding light, as well as water and air. This calking was a new expe- 
 rience to me; but the heavy, equinoctial gales were at hand, and the 
 ship was to be in readiness for them. Some persons, when danger is 
 near, do not like to be alone, and they wish everybody to talk to them 
 to keep off the thought of danger. Others, and I am one of that class, 
 prefer to contemplate danger in perfect silence, alone, or in company. 
 The first are sure to lose their presence of mind, and get confused if 
 called upon to act in an emergency. The second are more likely to 
 take advantage of any means of safety that presents itself; they are 
 usually self-possessed in time of peril. We had a succession of furious 
 gales, but they did not last long, and one fine day would generally put 
 all to rights again. One fine Sunday, when everything looked bright 
 and cheery, the ship gave a heavy lurch, groaning and creaking as she 
 did so. We were about half way between Australia and the dangerous 
 Cape Horn. Billows, like sharp crags of black glass dashed with 
 foam, rose up before the ship, as if to impede her progress, or engulf 
 her. The masts bent and creaked, the sails flapped with a noise like 
 thunder. The winds hissed through the shrouds with a foreboding 
 sound. The day grew colder, the winds blew wilder, and the waves 
 grew higher; the storm altogether grew more furious toward night. 
 The sea was lashed into tremendous confusion. There was a fearful 
 sullen sound of rushing waves and broken surges. At times a volume 
 of clouds over head seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning, that 
 quivered along the foaming billows, and made the succeeding darkness 
 more terrible. The thunders bellowed over the wilderness of waters, 
 and echoed and prolonged the roar of the mountain waves. As I felt 
 the staggering and plunging of the ship, it seemed marvelous that she 
 could regain her equilibrium, or preserve her buoyancy. Her yards 
 would dip into the water; her sails were saturated in the sea; her bows 
 buried in the waves. Sometimes an immense foaming swell seemed 
 ready to engulf her, and nothing but a skillful turn of the wheel would 
 save her from a fearful shock. The sun went down in inky darkness, 
 amid the war of elements, and for three days we saw neither sun, moon, 
 nor stars. The fires in the cook's caboose were washed out as soon as 
 he kindled them, so he was not able to cook dinner or supper. Wet 
 15
 
 226 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and supperless we retired that night. The gale rose higher and higher. 
 The pitching and plunging were fearful. One awful dive, a crash, and 
 a mast was wrecked. The sails on the broken mast for a time were 
 unmanageable; for they were split to ribbons, and went flapping furi- 
 ously in the fierce wind, with a noise like thunder. I lay down in my 
 bunk with my wet clothes on, holding on with both hands, to keep 
 from being pitched on the floor. A cry on deck startled me: "All 
 lights out." 
 
 My cabin-door was opened, and the steward stumbled in and put 
 out my light. No sooner was I left in total darkness than the ship 
 gave a fearful plunge and tumbled me head first out on the floor, 
 where I sat all night holding on with both hands, being bumped and 
 thumped most unmercifully. I could almost feel the darkness in which 
 I sat, or rather rolled. It was a dreadful night. Morning came, but 
 no abatement of the gale. The whistling of the wind through the rig- 
 ging sounded like wailings for the dead. By the creaking of the masts, 
 I thought another would go. The straining and groaning of the bulwarks, 
 as the ship labored in the sea. Were frightful. A tremendous billow, 
 fringed with foam, swept over our deck, carrying the cook's caboose, 
 cooking utensils and stove right overboard into .the sea. This was 
 quite a misfortune, as no food had been cooked for three days, nor had 
 we water to dVink or bread to eat. The hatches were all fastened 
 down, so the steward could not get to the stores, but he had in his 
 pantry a few tins of preserved salmon and a few dozens of Port wine. 
 These he dealt out, but they were no substitute for bread or water. 
 The fish increased thirst, and the wine did not quench it. I sat in the 
 cold and wet, the water all splashing round me, as it found its way 
 into my cabin with a rush. In the total darkness, day and night, I 
 sat there, without bread or water, in my wet clothes, unable to get 
 into bed, or to lie down if I could get in. The gale rose to a hurri- 
 cane the second night. I listenened to the rush and roar along the 
 sides of the ship at my very ear, only a plank between me and death. 
 The grim king seemed to be seeking an entrance to our dark and float- 
 ing prison after his prey. The mere starting of a plank from a loos- 
 ened nail, or the yawning of a seam, would let him in. The hurricane 
 grew fiercer, and then came a tremendous crash. Every timber of the 
 ship quivered as the bulwarks were crushed in and carried away at one 
 fell sweep. The noise of trampling feet, and the shouts of human 
 voices, mingling with the elemental war, were terrific. In the midst 
 of the thick darkness, I was contemplating death by drowning. I
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 227 
 
 wondered what the sensations would be ; if I should struggle long. I 
 fancied myself gurgling in the sea. I thought of the sharks. What 
 if I had to be eaten by these cannibals of the deep ! I shuddered at 
 the thought, but there geemed no possible way of escape, so I accepted 
 the inevitable. Ere the sunless day had passed, I was completely 
 
 exhausted in mind and body. Mrs. P came creeping into my 
 
 room, holding on to everything she could catch. She was afraid of 
 the fearful noises she heard all round us, and she did not like to be 
 alone. The gentlemen were in the saloon trying to keep the water out, 
 by placing blankets and mattresses and table-cloths, and everything 
 
 they could find, against the doors. Mrs. P asked me if ever I 
 
 had been in such a storm ? 
 
 "Yes; but not so long continued," I said. 
 
 She asked me if I thought we would be lost? 
 
 "I see no way of escape if the hurricane lasts much longer," I 
 said. 
 
 Just then the ship gave a great roll, nearly upon her beam ends, 
 which made her shake and shiver. 
 
 "Oh! are we going down now?" cried Mrs. P . 
 
 " No," I said; "the storm is not at its worst yet, though this is the 
 third day or night that it has been raging, and the ship labors fright- 
 fully." 
 
 Bang, crash, crash, splash ! I put my hands to my ears to shut out 
 the dreadful sounds, of what I thought was the breaking up of the 
 ship. Down, down, she came on her beam ends. My cabin being 
 on the lower side, I was completely under water, cabin and all. I 
 was (piietly waiting for the water to burst in upon us and drown us. 
 
 "We are going now," I said. 
 
 And my thoughts flew away from earth and sea and sharks. I 
 thought not of the darkness or the gale, or the struggle alone in the 
 wave, with the sharks gnawing at my flesh. I only thought that my 
 unclothed soul would be in the presence of her Maker in a few mo- 
 ments more. That was one of the most solemn moments df my life. 
 The waters were rushing over and around my cabin. Presently, with 
 a heavy shudder, our ship rose from her starboard beam ends, and 
 rolled heavily over to the leeward. I said to Mrs. P : 
 
 "We did not go down just now, so our ship can not sink. But we 
 have had some more damage done to the vessel by that crash we heard. 
 However, I think the hurricane has reached its climax; the crisis is 
 past. We shall not go down in this gale."
 
 228 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 In the crash, we heard, among other things, that the davits made of 
 iron, on which hung the hfe-boat, with seven or eight dozen geese, 
 and other live stock, were snapped into sphnters, and away went the 
 boat with a splash, and the geese with a cackle, into the boihng waters. 
 Our bill-of-fare was shortened by this loss, as we had not yet doubled 
 Cape Horn. Slowly and sullenly the storm ceased to blow. Our 
 ship was in bad plight. We had lost cook-house and everything per- 
 taining thereto ; we had lost a mast and sails, our bulwarks, and a boat 
 full of Uve stock; but we had weathered the hurricane and were still 
 afloat, I was bruised and battered, and completely exhausted by my 
 three days' fast, and three nights without sleep, and rolling about in 
 water and in wet clothes all the time, I was stiff and cold. The 
 steward brought me some salmon and wine, the sight of which made 
 me sick, but I had to take a little to keep life in. When the wind 
 ceased to blow, the great rolling waters went down gradually, and 
 gave the ship an opportunity of sailing on her way more steadily. 
 The voice of the floods raised a great turmoil, and lifted the great 
 waves on high. But the voice of the Lord said: "Peace; be still," 
 and they were quiet. "The Lord is great, and greatly to be praised." 
 The debris of the wrecked mast and bulwarks were cleared away, but 
 as the planking for new bulwarks was swept away by the relentless 
 waves, we had to sail without bulwarks, which made it unsafe to walk 
 the* deck. We had merchant princes on board, who, when on shore, 
 would hardly deign to speak to a sailor; but who on board in a storm, 
 or after it, are sorry-looking objects, pitiable in the extreme. But a 
 sailor in a storm is in his element, and independent in spirit. He 
 fills his place, and can not be dispensed with. In a storm, the proud 
 ship-owners are glad to look up to the hardy seamen for help, and 
 safety. The ship is a little world, where the inhabitants are few, and 
 all have a common interest in the voyage. Our English tars did 
 •honor to their profession, by their brave and noble conduct in the days 
 •and nights of peril. 
 
 I told our first officer one day that I hoped in a short time to see 
 some icebergs. 
 
 "What! icebergs? not if I can help it. I shall steer as far from 
 them as possible." 
 
 ' ' Do you intend to cut off" the Horn and pass through the Magellan 
 •Strait?" 
 
 ''Not that either."
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 
 
 229 
 
 "Then do you intend to take the middle course and steer between 
 the ice mountains and the fire mountains?" 
 
 He laughed, and said : "You have fixed it." 
 
 We doubled the redoubtable Cape Horn on Easter Sunday. 
 
 We suffered more from cold ere we reached the latitude of the Cape 
 than we did while doubling it. We had left the Pacific and were on 
 the stormy Atlantic. With all due deference to Ferdinand Magellan, 
 who, on account of the quiet and peaceful behavior of the mighty 
 ocean, dubbed it "Pacific," we did not so find it. Soon after passing 
 the Falkland Islands, two large ships hove in sight, which created 
 quite a stir on board our ship, as no doubt it did on board the others. 
 The winds and waves were so gentle and kind that they allowed the 
 three great ships to get very near to each other. No speaking-trump- 
 ets were needed; nearer and closer they came, till our captain could 
 touch with his outstretched hand the hands of the others from their 
 respective ships. This was quite a feat. A skillful turn of the wheel, 
 and they turned away from each other, then returned and almost 
 touched again. It was a grand sight. We were short of provisions 
 and water, and what provisions and sail-cloth the other ships could 
 spare from their stores they gave us, but no water. The noble ships 
 bowed their farewell and each went on its watery way. As we ap- 
 proached the tropics we had fine weather. The dark, heavy waters 
 of the stormy Atlantic were quiet and unruffled. Everything in our 
 cabins was saturated with brine, and the heat of our dark, air-tight 
 rooms was suffocating. We were in a hot vapor bath all the time, 
 and it was very uncomfortable. I had the steward to lift my carpet 
 and tlirow it overboard, and everything else that could be dispensed 
 with. We attempted to put in at Pernambuco, in South America, for 
 water, but the winds were contrary. The captain consulted the pas- 
 sengers as to the best course to pursue. They decided on the straight 
 course to England. We were consequently put on short allowance of 
 food and water. We willingly consented to this arrangement, and 
 sailed on. Our health continued good. Only the body of one sweet 
 little girl was consigned to the deep on the voyage. A large fish had 
 been caught, and when cooked, a tempting morsel was served up to 
 me in my cabin. I ate it with a relish, for I was hungry. I thanked 
 the steward for the dainty morsel, then he told me, with that gusto he 
 enjoyed, that I had eaten shark. I turned very sick without any rea- 
 son ; but I imagined the shark might have feasted upon a dead human 
 body. The tropical heat was very great, as we had but little wind.
 
 230 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 We passed close to the Azores; we had a fine view of St. Michal's, 
 the principal one, with a population of 51,000. The Portuguese dis- 
 covered them in 1439, and now own them. 
 
 Britain, Queen of the Seas, that great nation on whose possessions 
 the sun never sets, and whose tributary countries are more numerous 
 than those of Rome in her palmiest days, was being discussed. Ques- 
 tions were asked, such as, When shall we see the Scilly Isles? When 
 the land's end? When the Lizzard's Point? etc. "Land ho!" was 
 shouted from the lookout. Britain, the sceptered isle, was in sight. 
 What a commotion was among those who were going to meet their 
 friends. The sea-girt garden stood full in view, and there go the ships 
 to plow the trackless, pathless ocean, all bedecked with streamers, 
 waving in the wind. The outward bound may encounter storms and 
 disasters ere they reach port, and the lofty colors trail on the slippery 
 deck, torn and trampled on. Here comes our noble ship battered and 
 storm-beaten, but carrying her country's colors at the mast-head, though 
 tattered and torn. She was sadly disfigured, for her figure-head had 
 gone with her bulwarks; but the most important part of the ship was 
 left, viz.: the hull. The inner parts were uninjured, and the crew did 
 what they could with pitch and paint. The battered ship reminded 
 me of myself. As we passed up the English Channel, the health offi- 
 cers, who came on board, pronounced us all in a healthy condition. 
 A pilot took charge of the ship, and the custom-house officers took 
 charge of our luggage till the ship reached London. We gave them 
 our keys, and left the ship in the pilot's boat, hoping to reach London 
 as soon as the vessel. We landed at Folkestone. When I touched 
 terra firma, it was the first time I had set foot on English soil, and this 
 ended my first voyage round the world. 
 
 We had breakfast at a hotel, and took the train for Brighton. I had 
 never traveled by railway, and the sensations were new and strange 
 as we whirled along. Brighton is a beautiful seaport town. The 
 Queen's pavilion looks more like the residence of a Turkish Sultan 
 than of an English Queen, but it is little used by her Majesty. Our short 
 sojourn here was very pleasant. We visited Tunbridge Wells, and 
 thence went on to London, where at Norwood, one of the suburbs, a 
 house was rented, and here we rested for a short time. 
 
 Five weeks had passed since we left the ship. Mr. P told me 
 
 one day that he had been to the custom-house, and had been very much 
 annoyed at the conduct of some of the officers. He said he saw two 
 men deliberately break open my desk, and they were about to consign
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 23 1 
 
 to their pockets several packages of gold sovereigns, which had been 
 intrusted to me, by rich friend^, to carry to poor relatives in Europe. 
 
 Mr P 's appearance put a stop to the rascality. He had the money 
 
 wrapped up, put his seal on it, and had it sent home to me. Though 
 I gave up my keys to these honest officials, every trunk and box I had 
 was broken open, and many valuable parcels taken from them, such as 
 shawls from China, and silks from India, that I had brought as presents 
 from friends to friends, and was to deliver with love messages person- 
 ally. I asked where these valuables were, as I wished to pay the duty 
 on them. I was informed that they all had been forwarded to their 
 owners, and duty and freight had been collected. I was told the law 
 did not allow this, but I had no redress. All the parcels had been 
 properly directed for my guidance, but I could not ascertain whether 
 the owners received them, as I did not know the address of any of 
 them. I had no fancy for litigation, and I had a great deal of trouble 
 and expense ere I could get things put straight. 
 
 I.visited the British Museum, where I could well have spent a month 
 with profit. This great store-house of everything wonderful in nature, 
 art, science and history, weeks could not suffice to look over all its 
 wonders. The gloomy old tower, first a palace, then a prison, now a 
 national museum of antiquities, was visited; the fire monument, 202 
 feet high, was ascended; the tunnel was looked into. One can hardly 
 imagine a vast flood of water rolling over one's head, with ships of large 
 size and heavy tonnage floating on its surface. I visited all the places 
 of interest in London ere I left it. 
 
 Just as the steamer, which was carrying me to my native land, was 
 sailing out of dock, a letter was handed to me, to say that friends would 
 meet me at Glasgow, and I must take a st^ieamer for that port. It was 
 too late; I was on my way to Leith, the port of Edinburgh. As I ap- 
 proached the shores of Scotland, my heart felt the torch of patriotism 
 enkindle it. Caledonia can boast of an ancient and warlike history, 
 dating back to Fergus ist, 328 years before Christ. 
 
 A heavy storm had swept over the North Sea, and its waters were 
 still in commotion; we had what the sailors called "the tail of the gale." 
 
 It was midnight when the ship touched Granton Pier, with feelings 
 akin to Columbus wherMie landed at San Salvador. Had it not been 
 for a strange crowd that stood around, I should have knelt and kissed 
 the earth as I stepped upon my native shore. Who, that has wandered 
 in distant lands, feels not a thrill of pleasure as he apjjroachcs the land 
 of his birth? I sent a porter on board for my luggage, and while I
 
 232 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Stood idle and alone, a stranger in my own land, I felt no sense of lone- 
 liness. I was in Scotland, the land of the free and the brave. The 
 old Scotch porter asked me : 
 
 "Mem, will I tak your boxes to the hotel?" 
 
 "Yes," I said. 
 
 "Will ya tak a noddy (hack) yersel, an ride ta the hotel?" 
 
 "No," 1 answered; "I shall walk with you to the hotel." 
 
 So I walked with the old man, for I loved to hear him talk the Scot- 
 tish dialect; it had music for me, it thrilled me. I laughed right out at 
 the old man's exclamation, when I told him I had come from Australia. 
 
 "Losh bless me lassie, awe the way frae Australly, that far awa 
 kintra, weel, weel, its wonderfa." 
 
 The gale had driven a French ship into that port that day for repairs, 
 and when we reached the hotel, we found every available space filled 
 with the storm-stayed passengers. We went to two or three houses, 
 but all were full; I could not find a shelter anywhere apparently, and 
 the poor, old man was distressed. 
 
 "Weel a weel, what's ta be dune for I dinna ken?" 
 
 "Take me anywhere for the night; I suppose all the people of the 
 village are respectable," I said. 
 
 "Deed are they." 
 
 I had become accustomed to hear the people say, "we hae na a 
 spare bed in the hoose," in answer to the old man's asking for "shelter 
 for a young stranger lassie for the nicht." I trudged beside the old 
 man from end to end of the village, but to no purpose. All had their 
 houses occupied, a very unusual thing. I did not feel half the concern 
 that the poor old man felt, but I was becoming very tired with my 
 walk through the streets. So I made up my mind to get all ray trunks 
 and traps placed on the ground, and I should take a seat on them for 
 the rest of the night without shelter. I told the old man not to distress 
 himself, for I was not afraid, I was in Scotland. 
 
 " Ma puir lassie, ye can na bide oot by awe nicht, ye munn ha a 
 bield o' some kind," said the sympathetic old man. "There's only 
 ane hoose that I did na gang tae, an I fear the leddies ha gane away, 
 bit I'll see. 
 
 So on we trudged a little farther to the one house thatf had not been 
 disturbed by our midnight knocking at the door. But now the old 
 man roused the sleepers, the door opened, and he was admitted, and 
 the door closed again. I was outside. The excitement of landing, 
 and the pleasure I had listening to the old man's broad, vernacular 
 speeches, and the novelty of not finding a place to lodge in the first
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 233 
 
 night of my arrival in my native country, kept me up. I leaned against 
 a window sill, and said to myself: "Here I am alone in the vast soli- 
 tude of sleeping Scotland." The night was robed in light; the firma- 
 ment was glowing with stars, and the moon had unveiled her peerless 
 face, and shone out beautifully bright. All was congenial with my 
 thoughts; a holy calm seemed to pervade the very atmosphere. I felt 
 as if I were in the presence of Deity. This thought was sweet and 
 soothing to my feelings. Though I had no couch on which to lie, I 
 felt at rest. I felt that it would be no hardship for me to sit all night 
 just where I was, with the earth for my throne, and the deep blue 
 vault of heaven, gem-studded, for my canopy, and the pale light, like 
 a silver mantle, thrown around me. I almost forgot where I was, when 
 I heard the old man's voice from within say: 
 
 " All the way from Australly." 
 
 The door opened, I almost felt sorry to be disturbed, when a sweet- 
 voiced maid-servant invited me to come in, and the old man said: 
 
 "Weel, weel, here ye can get a room." 
 
 I followed my trunks into the house. I had given up the faintest 
 hope of finding a shelter for myself; but the Lord did provide. I 
 quadrupled the sum the old man asked for his services; I thought he 
 richly earned it. He said he wad do onything that he could for me 
 as lang as I remained in the place. And he did attend to my baggage, 
 and besides his pay, I gave him a souvenir from "Australly," which 
 perfectly delighted him. I was conducted upstairs by the servant, 
 who was neatly dressed, though she must have been roused from sleep; 
 it was 3 o'clock A. M. I was_ ushered into a room brightly lit up 
 with gas. Deal-dressers, filled with delf-ware, white and bright and 
 clean, were ranged on one side ; on the wall opposite hung, not pic- 
 tures, but pot and pan-lids, bright and shiny, like silver mirrors. A 
 cooking-range, highly polished, and all the cooking utensils arranged 
 with the greatest good order, told me that I was in a Scotch kitchen, a 
 gem of its kind. The girl apologized for taking me to the kitchen, 
 saying that the rooms had all been disrobed of curtains and carpets; 
 everything was being packed up for removal to their city home. I 
 said no apology from them was necessary. A little table, with a tray 
 covered with a snowy napkin, with a few dainty viands, such as would 
 tempt a sick stomach, and a cup of the most fragrant tea, such as 
 would cure sickness, was set before me. The aroma was refreshing. 
 My heart was too full of grateful feelings to eat. I drank a cup of 
 the delicious tea. Great tears rolled from my eyes, and my pent-up
 
 234 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. ^ 
 
 feelings burst forth in sobs. I apologized to the girl for my involun- 
 tary sobs. 
 
 "The Lord who rules the earth's affairs, 
 For me a well-spread board prepares ; 
 My grateful thanks to him shall rise, 
 He knows my wants, those wants supplies." 
 
 I heard a soft, sweet voice in the hall say, in musical tones: 
 " Maggie, be kind to the stranger; do everything in your power to 
 make her as comfortable as the house can afford. You know we were 
 once ourselves strangers in a strange land, so be kind to her." 
 
 A fresh sob prevented my hearing Maggie's answer. I had no 
 doubt as to what it was, however. I was conducted to a bed-room 
 that had been prepared for me in a hurry. I sank down in the soft, 
 clean bed, after committing myself to Him who slumbers not. The 
 weary traveler sank down to a profound sleep, and slept till noon 
 next day. "Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," had done her 
 duty. I was rested and refreshed. Maggie, as if by magic, knew 
 when I moved, and had a delicious breakfast at my bedside in a 
 twinkling, and insisted that I should eat it before getting up. To 
 this I made but faint objection. As soon as my toilet was made, 
 Maggie conducted me down-stairs to the drawing-room, where two 
 ladies rose to greet me. The elder introduced the younger, Miss 
 McDonald, daughter of Colonel McDonald, of Powder Hall, near 
 Edinburgh. The elder was Miss McDonald, sister to the colonel. 
 I had sent them my card. I soon discovered that the younger 
 lady owned the soft, sweet voice I had heard in the night, so sooth- 
 ing to my ear. While I listened to her, I breathed a prayer for 
 her ; she could not hear, but it was heard by Him whose ear is ever 
 open to our prayers. These ladies took a deep and lively interest in 
 the stranger. I was able to tell them of acquaintances they had in the 
 far-off South Land. I was charmed. They delighted me with their 
 pleasant, affectionate manners. The seaside residence which they 
 occupied was about to be vacated, but they said they would remain 
 there a few days longer to suit my convenience. They also gave me 
 a pressing invitation to spend some time with them, and, if possible, 
 make Powder Hall my headquarters while I was Scotland. I prom- 
 ised to visit them at the Hall. Meantime, I accepted one night more 
 of their seaside hospitality. I spent the day and night with these 
 highly-cultured, refined and elegant ladies, each telling of her travels 
 in different directions. They had traveled much, but I do not think 
 they were ever shelterless as I was, on the night on which I roused 
 them from their slumbers. They treated me just as they would like
 
 RETURN TO SCOTLAND. 235 
 
 to be treated in similar circumstances. A young sister and niece of 
 these two ladies was sick, and had been bedridden for a long time. 
 She was a lovely and interesting young Christian, and while on her 
 sick-bed had written a little work for young Christians, a copy of 
 which was presented to me, with a request to read it, and when I had 
 visited my friends to haste to Powder Hall and become acquainted 
 with the dear invalid. I was sorry to leave these charming ladies. 
 Their kindness had been untiring. They asked me to write to them, 
 which I promised to do. I also promised to do myself the pleasure 
 to visit them soon. Man proposes, God disposes. I did write to 
 these new friends, only to tell them that it was not in my power to 
 visit them, as I was about to sail for America. Their letters were 
 kind in the extreme. The young invalid regretted not having the 
 opportunity to meet me and become acquainted. I felt equally sorry. 
 We exchanged messages of love. I also had letters of introduction 
 from these ladies to friends in America. They hoped when I landed 
 in that strange country I should be better cared for than I had been 
 on landing in my own. But they added : 
 
 "We owe to your adventure the pleasure of having become ac- 
 quainted with you." 
 
 To me this acquaintance was a bright spot, full of fragrant flowers, 
 on my desert path. 
 
 After parting with my new friends, the train soon took me to Edin- 
 burgh. Edwin, the Anglo-Saxon King of Northumberland, founded 
 Edwin's Burg, now Edinburgh. It consists of two parts — the old and 
 the new town. The one lies on level ground, and is a handsome, 
 modern-built city. The old is separated from it by a deep valley 
 running east and west, and lies south of the other on a long and lofty 
 ridge, and bears an ancient and venerable aspect, with its old but sub- 
 stantial buildings, ten, twelve and fourteen stories high. The hills in 
 the environs afford very beautiful and extended views. Arthur's Seat, 
 the towering summit of a vast collection of precipices, is the most 
 noted. Hills and valleys and slopes are all as green as a lawn. 
 Holyrood Palace, the residence of Scottish kings and queens for 
 many centuries, is full of relics, and of sad mementoes of our beau- 
 tiful but unfortunate Queen Mary, whose whole life was a melancholy 
 history, and over whose dark fate the tear of sympathy falls after the 
 lapse of three centuries. Everything in Mary's room is just as she 
 left it. As it is not Mary's but my own history that I am writing, I must 
 not linger at Holyrood, but pfoceed to the Castle, which is an ancient 
 fortress, standing on a rugged rock 200 feet high, which overlooks the
 
 236 THE STORY OK AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 town. On the battery stands " Mons. Meg." (Monstrous Maggie), 
 who shook the city Hke an earthquake, and broke all the windows, 
 doing great damage generally to the town, but especially damaging 
 herself by cracking her muzzle. She had it bandaged with iron belts, 
 and there she stands, a monument of uselessness after her one exploit. 
 The regalia of Scotland is lodged in the Castle. Edinburgh is famous 
 for its institutions of learning, the inhabitants are hterary, and the city 
 well deserves the name of "Modern Athens." I attended to the 
 delivery of love messages and money to some persons in this city. I 
 also had a letter of introduction to the reverend and distinguished 
 James Haldane, of Edinburgh. I spent a very pleasant day at his 
 house. His daughter was exceedingly attentive to me. I remained 
 over Sunday to hear the venerable Mr. Haldane preach in what used 
 to be the great Tabernacle, but. it was now contracted in size, and 
 though the congregation was good, yet it was not so large as in days 
 gone by. I took the railroad train to Glasgow, and whirled away at 
 a rapid rate. Glasgow is the largest city in Scotland. It stands on 
 each side of the Clyde, and has large and handsome buildings. Its 
 Cathedral is the most perfect specimen of ancient or Gothic architect- 
 ure that the zeal of the Reformers left standing in Scotland. 
 
 One quarter of an hour from the time I stepped into the train at 
 Glasgow I was at Paisley. I looked around from the platform of the 
 depot on which I stood, and saw a great many houses, the roofs of 
 which were level with the platform. The railway crossed a low part 
 of the town on a viaduct, and whole streets were demolished to give 
 way for the structure. I did not recognize my birthplace at all. 
 Everything seemed changed. I greeted my mother earth. "O how 
 kindly thou hast led me, Heavenly Father, day by day; found my 
 dwelling, clothed and fed me, furnished friends to cheer my way." 
 Yet my heart sent forth a secret sigh as memory wandered over the 
 past. Smiles took the place of somber looks when I saw my cousin 
 pressing through the crowd to meet me. My anxious thoughts were 
 dispelled. Our meeting was pleasant, his greeting cordial. I found 
 the greatest changes in the few short years of my absence that could 
 well be imagined. One uncle who had been years in India ha4 come 
 home and taken his wife and only son abroad with him. My only 
 other aunt and uncle that I had left in Scotland were quietly sleeping 
 in the church-yard. My cousins all vied with each other in showing 
 me kindness I felt at home, notwithstanding the changes. I felt a 
 thrill of joy at the thought, here I am at home.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NEW EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Mr. William Neil, minister to the Baptist Church, had married one 
 of my cousins. He was eminent for piety and good works. The first 
 Sunday that I heard my cousin preach, I felt a strange joy that I was 
 so privileged. When I partook of the Lord's Supper, they were 
 surprised and pleased that I had become a Baptist. In this church I 
 had first seen the rite of baptism, and despised it. Since then I had 
 been changed. After the church service was over, it was announced 
 that a Mr. Campbell from America was preaching in different cities 
 to the churches. He was a great Reformer. The question was, 
 
 "Shall we invite Mr. Campbell to preach to this church the next 
 Sunday?" 
 
 Whereon a few venerable men, whose silvery hair formed, as it were, 
 crowns of glory on their heads, rose up, one at a time, and said: 
 
 "We will have nothing to do with Mr. Campbell, or his new fangled 
 doctrines." "Mr. Campbell is not orthodox." "We shall not hear 
 him preach to us; he would turn our church organization up side 
 down; overturn our government; yes, and even raze the foundations 
 on which our church is built." "We want no revolutionist to preach 
 for us; we will not invite Mr. Campbell to preach to this church." 
 • Thus spoke the hoary-headed fathers. I had great veneration for 
 these conservatives, and consequently my sympathies were with them. 
 The church listened with the most profound attention while the vener- 
 ated fathers spoke; but when they all had finished what they had to 
 say, a man of middle age rose up, and began : 
 
 "I am astonished at some of the speeches our fathers have made. 
 I did not know until now, that our organization, our government, the 
 very foundation on which our church is built, were so weak, that Mr. 
 Campbell could, with one day's preaching, raze the foundation of our 
 church, and turn everything in connection with it up side down. If 
 our foundation was on Christ the rock of ages, the gates of hell could 
 not prevail against it; but if our church be founded on sand, the sooner 
 it is razed, and everything connected with it turned up side down, the 
 
 (237)
 
 238 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 better. Mr. Campbell may then help us build on the sure foundation. 
 I vote to have Mr. Campbell preach for us next Sunday, if we can per- 
 suade him to come." 
 
 This speech created quite a revolution in the feelings of the congre- 
 gation. A vote was taken, and all but the few old men who had spoken 
 were for inviting Mr. Campbell to preach on the next Sunday, and 
 forthwith he was invited. I heard one member say that "were Mr, 
 Campbell to preach fifty revolutionary sermons, they can do us no 
 harm, if we are founded on Christ, the rock. We must look into this 
 matter, and see that we are all right." On leaving church every one 
 was discussing the merits and demerits of what had been spoken. I 
 had intended to spend a few weeks making a tour of the highlands, but 
 having heard so much of this revolutionary preacher, my curiosity to 
 hear him was excited; so I altered my plan. I would spend the week 
 at Loch Gilphead, visit my nurse's grave, and return on Saturday, in 
 time to hear this unorthodox Mr. Campbell, and judge for myself, 
 whether he preached Christ or not. I hired a row-boat, and floated 
 down the Cart River, took a steamer at its junction with the Clyde, and 
 steamed down this romantic river, passing the ruined palaces and forts, 
 among them Dumbarton Castle, where Wallace's sword is kept. The 
 memory of the happy days that I spent all along here, was like flowers 
 kept fresh in water. My young heart had been long inured to pain, 
 but tears for the present had given place to pleasure and sweet memo- 
 ries. On we sped past Greenock, the isles of Arran and Bute, up 
 Lock Fine, and landed at the former home of Highland Maggie, the 
 present home of her mother Lucky and her brother, Lachie Campbell, 
 who used to carry me to the beach, and tell me stories, and gather shells 
 and dulce for me. Verily, I was a little child again. Lachie accom- 
 panied me on a flying visit to his sisters, among the hills. The heather- 
 clad hills were as beauteous as of yore. My only regret was, that I 
 could not stay longer among the silvery fountains and glistening lakes, 
 and the sweet perfume of the flowery dells. The locks in the Creenan 
 Canal had the same interest for me as of old. Nothing here had 
 changed. The gushing springs, the rushing streams, the roaring cata- 
 racts, the sparkling cascades, the gloomy glens, the caves and cliffs, 
 and shady woods, and fragrant air — my heart beat in sympathy with all. 
 
 "Oh, wave, and rill, and breeze, and rock, and wood, 
 Was it not God himself that called thee good." 
 
 On the 28th of August, 1847, I was seated in the Baptist Church,
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 239 
 
 Paisley. It was early, but the large house was crowded; many, like 
 myself, were there from sheer curiosity, to see and hear some new 
 thing. A gentleman who sat next to me said : 
 
 "There comes the great Mr. Campbell." 
 
 I looked in the direction, and saw my cousin with several gentlemen 
 coming up the aisle. One form attracted me more than the others; he 
 was not bedizened with chains, or rings, or diamond pins, or jewelry 
 of any kind. He was above the middle height, strongly built, but 
 rather thin; his hair was gray, and stood up from his high, intellectual 
 forehead; he had heavy eyebrows; his perceptive organs were very 
 large; he had a high, Roman nose, as one born to command; the lines 
 on his face were strongly marked. With hat in hand, and bowed head, 
 leaning lightly on a cane, he walked up to the pulpit steps. Mr. Neil, 
 having led the way, stood on one side to let the stranger pass up the 
 steps to the pulpit. But Mr. Campbell, for it was he, did not go up so 
 high as the preacher's stand, but took the precentor's, till he was called 
 up higher. I never took my eyes off this strange gentleman, but 
 watched his every movement. His eagle glance scanned the congre- 
 gation, and for a moment his piercing blue eye rested on me. I 
 seemed to feel, as well as see, his glance. I felt as if he had penetrated 
 to my inmost soul, and there read all my thoughts. My cousin intro- 
 duced Mr. Campbell to the congregation, and conducted the prelimin- 
 ary services. Mr. Neil was a young man, comparatively, but he was 
 an orthodox Calvinist, as well as the gray-haired fathers were, not one 
 of whom was present. He was grave in his manners, good in his 
 morals, and preached to please a highly intelligent church. 
 
 The thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians was read, and Mr. Camp- 
 bell rose to speak. His voice was firm and clear; every syllable was 
 distinctly uttered, and was heard in the uttermost corners of the large 
 house; his tones were low and impressive. He looked round upon 
 the upturned faces for a moment; then he took up the open Bible in 
 his hands, and said: 
 
 "We are not in the habit of taking a verse out of a chapter, or a 
 clause out of a verse, for a text to preach from. We take the Bible, the 
 whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible, for a text, and preach from it." 
 
 He held up the precious book while he spoke, then with a most em- 
 phatic gesture, brought it down on the cushioned desk. This, I be- 
 lieve, was the only gesture he made in a discourse of three hours. He 
 proceeded, and said : 
 
 "On this occasion, we shall depart from our usual practice, and take
 
 240 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tlie thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians and thirteenth verse. Paul 
 says, 'Now abideth faith, hope and charity, these three, but the greatest 
 of these is charity.' I shall give charity its true rendering, and call it 
 love. The text will now read, 'And now abideth faith, hope, love, 
 but tWb greatest of these is love.'" 
 
 He defined what faitli was, and expatiated in glowing terms on it. 
 There was something so new and wonderful in the manner in which 
 faith was represented, that I became deeply interested. The whole 
 house was impressed. Faith to me had a new significance, and when 
 Mr. Campbell passed on to define hope, I feared it would not come up 
 to what was said of faith. I thought nothing could surpass my idea of 
 what faith was; however, his definition and description of hope left 
 faith in the shade. Hope, the anchor of the soul, echpsed faith com- 
 pletely. Words of mine can never do justice to the grandeur of that 
 discourse. It was thrilling. I was bewildered by a rush of new ideas. 
 "These three, but the greatest of these is love." Now I thought noth- 
 ing more can be added to the grand discourse already spoken. He 
 had been leaning on the desk with his elbow in a most easy, graceful 
 manner most of the time. Now he rose from his easy position, but 
 without a single gesture to interrupt the magnificent flow of his grand 
 thoughts, as they were poured out in the most beautiful, chaste, poetic 
 and powerful language. His mien was calm and majestic. I had 
 never seen it equaled in the pulpit, though I had heard the distin- 
 guished James Haldane, the celebrated Dr. Chalmers, and the elegant 
 Dr. Wardlaw, and other great men. Yet this stranger, this Mr. Alex- 
 ander Campbell, surpassed them all, both in mind and manner. My 
 listening powers were awed, and every thought in silence hung in won- 
 dering expectancy. His words seemed oracles, that pierced the hearts 
 of all who heard him. Each would turn to his neighbor in dumb won- 
 der, and look into his face, whose face would answer in the same 
 wondering gaze. His theme was transcendently grand, and his won- 
 derful powers of delineation did it justice. He was full of eloquence, 
 yet precise; he was luminous, yet profound. He set the great princi- 
 ples which he advocated before the learned and the unlettered in 
 such a way, that none could misunderstand. There was no need of 
 the dim, religious light of the cathedral, the lofty, vaulted roof, or the 
 deep tones of the organ, as accessories to awe the rapt listeners. Every 
 word was touched with an emphasis that absolutely thrilled one. 
 The vast audience was riveted in breathless attention. The pulses 
 of the silent crowd could almost be heard while he spoke. He
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 24I 
 
 seemed to feel all he said. His manner, so calm and dignified, in- 
 vested his theme with a strange importance to me, as he touched, with 
 an unexpected truth, a chord in my own heart, that tremblingly re- 
 sponded to the touch. "God is love." I saw all creation in a new 
 light. God's love permeated the universe. God loved man above all 
 created beings; loved hmi so much that he gave his only begotten Son 
 to die for him that he might live. I was made to feel that the love of 
 God was higher than heaven, deeper than the grave, and wide as 
 eternity ; it was past my understanding. It seemed to me that my 
 whole being was undergoing a transformation, while I was, by some 
 magic power, perfectly engrossed by the subject of the discourse. I 
 felt unutterable things, and felt a great desire to do something for my 
 fellow-beings, to show my appreciation of God's love to me. I felt a 
 new power within me; my heart was enlarged, my understanding en- 
 lightened; and I thought the people over whom Mr. Campbell had 
 influence must be superior, because of his teaching, to any people I 
 had ever met. This first sermon which Mr. Campbell preached in 
 my hearing was a pivot on which my destiny turned. I made a sud- 
 den resolution, and mentally said: "Whither thou goest, I will go; 
 and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, 
 and thy God my God." 
 
 His hearers were spell-bound for three hours, nor did they relax 
 their attention till Mr. Campbell had finished his discourse. Their 
 admiration was unbounded. I could have listened to him forever I 
 thought. The hours seemed like minutes; no weariness did any one 
 feel. At the close of his grand discourse, he said if any wished to 
 join the Church of Christ, the New Testament only required that a 
 penitent believer should confess Christ before men intelligently, be 
 buried with him in baptism, and rise with him to newness of life. 
 When Christ took Peter's confession, he asked, "Whom do you say 
 that I am?" And Simon Peter answered, "Thou art the Christ, the 
 Son of the living God." And Jesus answered and said, "Blessed art 
 thou, Simon Barjona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, 
 but my Father which is in heaven. And I say unto thee, upon this- 
 rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail 
 against it." 
 
 "This good confession that Peter made to Christ himself was all 
 that Clirist required of Peter, and from lliat day to this, tlie good con- 
 fession, no more, no less, is all that the New Testament requires of 
 16
 
 242 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 anyone before he enters the kingdom of his Lord and Savior," said 
 Mr Campbell. 
 
 This glorious teaching was all new to me, but my heart responded to 
 the grand truths. I thought of the weary days and weeks and months 
 of misery in which I wept and mourned, and was kept out of the 
 church, because I could not do more than Christ required. I was 
 required to give a Christian experience before I was a Christian. I 
 was required to tell whether I was elected before I obeyed Christ. I 
 was required to subscribe to a creed; but I knew nothing but what 
 the Bible taught. Verily, I had taken, in my ignorance, the Bible, 
 the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible. And here was a great 
 teacher advocating the Bible alone for a creed and rule of practice. I 
 had learned more of Bible truth in this one sermon, from this great 
 teacher, than I had learned in all my life before from the Baptist pul- 
 pit. O how beautiful were the truths of the Bible as told by this 
 wonderful man. His words were like pearls dropped from his lips; 
 they were pearls of great price to me. 
 
 After the morning service, we adjourned to a room in the basement, 
 called the "l^ove-room," to have a mug of warm coffee, and a cracker 
 and cheese, and a social chat for a half hour, before partaking of the 
 Lord's Supper in the afternoon. A wonderful change had come over 
 me. I seemed to be reconverted, at least everything appeared in a 
 new light. The programme I had marked out for myself on leaving 
 New South Wales was laid aside. O if I could only sit at the feet of 
 this great teacher, as did Mary of Bethany sit at the feet of her Lord, 
 I would be willing to sacrifice anything, everything. To learn the 
 way to heaven more perfectly, I could endure any amount of priva- 
 tion. I felt that I could not do too much for Christ and his cause, if 
 I only knew where to begin, and how. Here, Lord, take me and do 
 with me what thou wilt. These and kindred thoughts occupied my 
 mind as I was passing down the love-room to feast the body after hav- 
 ing so grand a spiritual feast. Mr. Campbell was led to the head of 
 the tables, where, standing, he returned thanks. I happened to be 
 •seated at his right hand; I was pleased to be so near as to hear him 
 converse with other gentlemen. A gentleman in the middle of the 
 room rose, with his coffee and cracker in hands, and spoke in highly 
 eulogistic terms of the grand sermon we had had the privilege of lis- 
 tening to. Numbers, he said, had come from the east and the west, 
 from north and south, and if neither Medes nor Persians were here, 
 ;;ye.t many from distant parts of Scotland were here, and all were deeply
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IX SCOTLAND. 243 
 
 thankful for the hght of the truth that shone upon their understandings 
 and hearts that day, and he hoped that all would return to their homes 
 with a fuller knowledge of God's love, and a renewed desire to love 
 and serve him more faithfully. 
 
 "Amen," said Mr. Campbell, who had been quietly sipping his 
 coffee while the highest encomiums were being passed on him. He was 
 perfectly oblivious to what might have been taken for flattery, though 
 
 no flattery was intended by Mr. N in what he said. He spoke 
 
 from a heart overflowing with the love that he had heard held forth so 
 eloquently that morning. Nevertheless, his words were highly com- 
 plimentary, and might have flattered an ordinary man. Mr. Camp- 
 bell seemed unconscious that he had created such unbounded gratitude 
 in the hearts of his hearers, or such profound admiration. He, how- 
 ever, felt the importance of the truths he had been setting forth. Here 
 I sat beside the greatest man I had ever met. The most godlike in 
 grandeur of character, and most Christ-like in gentleness and humility. 
 Another gentleman rose at the other end of the room to make another 
 speech. I did wish he had sat still and allowed Mr. Campbell to 
 speak. I was hungering after strong meat ; I had been fed on milk 
 long enough. 
 
 "We all have been congratulated on being privileged to hear the 
 grand truths so ably and eloquently set forth. I fully coincide with 
 all our brother has said. We are here from the ends of Scotland, but 
 we have one also from the ends of the earth." 
 
 I was sorry to hear of another stranger besides Mr. Campbell com- 
 ing at that time. I wished Mr. Campbell to have no divided atten- 
 tions. I had turned my face to the speaker. I as quickly turned it 
 from him, when I heard him say, 
 
 "I have the great pleasure to introduce our Sister Davies from 
 Australia." 
 
 My face was all aglow, I was so taken by surprise. Mr. Campbell 
 rose from his seat, gave me his hand, and said : 
 
 "You are the lady from Australia." 
 
 I bowed, but could not speak. There was a general hum through 
 the room; several gentlemen came up, and we were introduced form- 
 ally. We had several invitations to dine at different places. Mr. 
 Campbell, still kindly holding my hand, looked down into my face 
 with such a pleasant smile, and said: 
 
 "Where this lady goes I will go; where she dines there will I dine." 
 
 I looked up with a feeling of awe to his smiling face, and wondered
 
 244 '^^^ STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 if he were omniscient, and had read my resohition in my face, or 
 knew my thoughts while I was mentally quoting Ruth, while he was 
 preaching. This was a foolish thought, but I was so absorbed that I 
 hardly knew what to think. However, before he let my hand go, I 
 told him that I purposed going to America. I sealed my resolution by 
 expressing it. The Lord's Supper was dispensed in the afternoon. My 
 heart was full of joy on this occasion. Mr. Henshall preached at 
 night. A great number of gentlemen dined with Mr. Campbell that 
 day, and great themes were discussed, deeply interesting to all. I 
 seemed to be in an atmosphere of intellectual, moral and religious 
 light. I had no desire to talk. I could not, if I would; the subjects 
 were all beyond my reach, but I was reaching after them. Mr. Camp- 
 bell asked me a great many questions about Australia, and compelled 
 me in a measure to talk some. He told me he was glad to know that 
 I was going to America. He hoped I would find my way to Bethany, 
 his home, before I settled anywhere. To be near this great and god- 
 like man, to hear him preach, teach or talk, was a boon for which 
 nothing on earth could compensate, so I felt and thought, and the 
 invitation to come to his home was more than I could have dreamed 
 of. But God was guiding me. One week before this time, Mr. Campbell 
 was most severely criticised unheard; but now men hung upon his 
 life-giving words as they had never done with man before. His wis- 
 dom surpassed that of all other men, and were all who heard him that 
 day to try to tell all they learned from him, the half could not be told. 
 Happy are they who are privileged to hear him at all times, I thought. 
 I told my cousin that I had determined to go to America. He was 
 taken by surprise, and asked me why this sudden. resolve. I told him 
 such preaching, such teaching, I had never heard; such hght and 
 beauty thrown around the great truths of the Bible. I thought no 
 other man could or would teach the sublime and simple story of the 
 cross and our salvation with so much love and power, as did Mr. 
 Campbell. I thought he had more of the spirit of Christ than any 
 living man. The people over whom he has influence must be more 
 pious, more God-fearing, God-loving, better every way, than any I 
 know. They must love the world and its fashions less, and be more 
 self-denying, and willing to do more and suffer more for Christ, than 
 any other people. I wish to cast in my lot with them, and live for a 
 ■ higher purpose than I have done. 
 
 "You are a young enthusiast, and may live to regret your hasty act,
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 245 
 
 if you go; but we will try to persuade you to stay with us. Have 
 you told Mr. Campbell of your intention?" 
 
 "Yes; but I did not give him my reason, for he, like you, might 
 say that I was an enthusiast, and try to dissuade me; but I have re- 
 solved. I do not wish to talk about it, only to say that I am going, 
 and make my preparations to suit my new programme." 
 
 In private conversation, Mr. Campbell's words seemed to be in- 
 spired; his themes were lofty; but he won all hearts by his winning 
 gentleness, and when he left Paisley, he had a perfect ovation. In 
 fact, his journey through Scotland was more like the triumphal march 
 of a conquering hero, than that of a preacher of the Gospel. Christ, 
 while on earth, drew crowds after him, because he preached to them 
 the words of life; he taught as never man taught, and ]\Ir. Campbell 
 was a faithful follower and copier of his Master. 
 
 The Baptist Church to which my cousin ministered looked well after 
 its members. If any were absent from sickness, they were visited, and 
 administered unto; were they absent, and could give no good reasons, 
 they were reprimanded. Now, on the day that Mr. Campbell 
 preached, not one of the old fathers of this orthodox church was pres- 
 ent, though their sons and daughters were. Of course, they were 
 called upon by the proper authorities, to give an account of themselves 
 on that day. None had the excuse of sickness, to keep them away, 
 but all of them found it convenient to leave the town on business just 
 at that time, and did not return till after Sunday. This being a good 
 reason, they could not be disciplined. The good old men, faithful to 
 their prejudices, could not come home in time to hear the revolutionist. 
 
 I was invited to dine with Mr. Campbell at Glasgow, at the house of 
 Mr. Patton. There were several gentlemen present, Avho left early, as 
 Mr. Campbell was to have an artist to come and take his likeness. I 
 was especially invited to sit by Mr. Campbell while the artist was at 
 work. He said he had taken a great interest in me, for which I was 
 most profoundly thankful. He soon found out that I knew very little 
 about America, and that I had no acquaintance with any person in it. 
 Again he gave me a very pressing invitation to visit Bethany, ere I 
 located any where; but if I preferred any other part of the United 
 States to Bethany, he would give me letters of introduction to the 
 brethren, who would be attentive to my wants and wishes. 
 
 "But it would give me great pleasure were you to come to Bethany 
 first." 
 
 To go to Bethany, the home of Mr. Campbell, was of all places the
 
 246 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 one I should prefer to visit first, and I found courage to say so for the 
 first time, though he had asked me several times. My veneration was 
 so profound, and my opinion so exalted, of the great teacher, that I 
 could hardly speak to him, only listen. When he condescended to 
 speak to me on my own affairs, and took an interest in them, and spoke 
 in so kind and gentle a manner to me, the awe melted away, and I felt 
 at ease in his presence. He gave me more information about America 
 than I ever had before. He gave me directions, which way to travel 
 after landing on the Western Hemisphere, to reach Bethany. He en- 
 tered into the smallest detail, as if it had been a great one. He said 
 he was going to fill appointments in Ireland, then go to England on his 
 way home, and if I could join him there, we could sail in company. 
 This arrangement would have been delightful, but I could not make it. 
 I had to visit different parts of Scotland, and Mr. Campbell's time was 
 too short for me. I said I would hurry, and follow him in the next 
 vessel. The more I saw and heard him, the more firmly I was con- 
 vinced that my resolution to go to America, to be near his people, and 
 hear him preach, was right. To leave all, and follow him, that I might 
 be benefited spiritually, seemed a small matter. The day that Mr. 
 Campbell was to sail for Ireland, my cousin and several other gentle- 
 men spent with him at Mr. Patton's. I was to start to a distant part 
 of Scotland in a stage-coach, a few hours ere he sailed for the Emerald 
 Isle. We were not to meet again until we had crossed the Atlantic 
 Ocean. Mr. Campbell had entered into my affairs with a feeling of 
 sympathy, that was gratifying to a bruised spirit. Now he seemed to 
 seek the sympathy he had so freely given. He told me he was in some 
 trouble, that gave him grief; but he began, in a playful manner, to 
 tell me of a dream that he dreamed the night before. 
 
 "I dreamed that I had lost a tooth." He smiled, and said: "Were 
 I superstitious, as your countrymen are, I would say that I had lost a 
 friend. I felt on Saturday a feeling of depression of spirit, that is far 
 from natural to me, as I am not of a desponding nature. However, I 
 felt as if some great calamity was hanging over me. I spoke of the 
 feeling to sister Patton and her son at the time, that was on the 4th of 
 September, 1847.' I took a note of it; to-day is Monday, the 6th." 
 
 Just here I will say, I think it a most wonderful coincidence, that at 
 the time he felt so depressed in spirit, as if a great calamity hung over 
 him, there was, indeed, in his American home a sad event occurring. 
 On that very Saturday, his second son, a most beloved, because a most 
 promising, boy of eleven years old, was drowned. He went out with
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 247 
 
 two Other boys to bathe in the creek; they went into a deep pool be- 
 fore the apron of the milldam, as the creek was low. After the boys 
 had bathed, they were diving under and coming up at the other side 
 of a boat. Wickliffe had gone down, but failed to come up, as the 
 other boys had done in safety. The alarm was given, but half an hour 
 elapsed ere his body was found under the apron of the milldam. To 
 restore him, everything that skill and affection could devise was tried, 
 but all in vain. The spirit had gone to Him who gave it, and the 
 family plunged into the deepest grief. Mr. Campbell's absence caused 
 the blow to fall very heavily on the deeply afflicted mother, who now 
 experienced her first great sorrow. She had naturally a melancholy 
 disposition, and this event developed it in all its force, so that neither 
 the hopes and consolations of religion, nor Christian sympathy, could 
 soothe or allay her great grief. 
 
 After Mr. Campbell's morning levee, it was proposed that we should 
 visit the Necropolis, and we wended our way to this city of the dead. 
 We crossed the "Bridge of Sighs," near the old cathedral, where the 
 waters of the Molindinar Burn rush tumultuously over an artificial cas- 
 cade into a deep ravine. The bridge to the entrance of the Necropolis 
 had to be crossed by those who were carrying their dead to their last 
 resting-place, hence, the name, "Bridge of Sighs." And though sad 
 were the feelings, and heavy the sighs, of those who had left their loved 
 ones to sleep, yet the gloom and horror of the bridge of the same name 
 at Venice did not obtain here. This was a beautiful and pleasant 
 place to visit, and so said all the strangers present. Amid beautiful 
 shrubbery, and well-laid-out grounds, stand elegant monuments. Mr. 
 Campbell said that he used to visit this spot forty years ago, when he 
 was at college. We returned to Mr. Patton's, where several more 
 gentlemen came to bid the illustrious visitor good-bye. Mr. Campbell 
 was plied with important questions on subjects of vital import. I won- 
 dered that he never tired talking. He was most affable and unaffected 
 and brilliant in conversation, and kept his hearers always spell-bound. 
 He was certainly revolutionizing their stereotyped manner of thought, 
 and laying the foundation for great reform. My time to leave had 
 come, and Mr. Campbell did me the honor to accompany me to the 
 coach-office, and put me on board the coach. On leaving Mr. Patton's, 
 all the gentlemen followed suit, and a long line came tramp, tramp 
 down the stairs. Mr. Campbell turned round when he reached the 
 hall, and said, in a most f)lcasant, smiling manner :
 
 248 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 "The Campbell's are coming, oh, ho! oh, ho!" which created a 
 smile. "And still they come." 
 
 When he put me in the coach that was to take me to a distant part, 
 he said: 
 
 "I shall write to you from Ireland." 
 
 I paid my friends a short visit, and returned much sooner than I had 
 intended. I was in haste to get through with my visits. I had in- 
 tended to spend a few days with a Presbyterian cousin at Paisley, when 
 I returned. When I reached his house, and had taken off my wraps, 
 my cousin asked : 
 
 "What have you done with your great Mr. Campbell?" 
 
 I answered: "He is in Ireland. I parted with him three hours be- 
 fore he was to sail." 
 
 "Ha! ha! So you think your great and good man is in Ireland," 
 said he, with a withering sneer. "I tell you he is in Glasgow Bridewell, 
 where he, and all such as he, ought to be." 
 
 The blood rushed to my temples at the unfeeling speech. I asked: 
 
 "Where is he in prison? And for what is he in prison? 
 
 "In Glasgow, and for libel against one of our good Presbyterian 
 ministers." 
 
 "Robertson?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes;" he answered. 
 
 "If Mr. Campbell, that high-toned Christian gentleman, be in 
 prison, he is a persecuted man, falsely imprisoned, and whoever he or 
 they be who have done this vile deed, shall surely be sorry for it," I 
 said. 
 
 ' ' We are not a persecuting people in Scotland. We do not put 
 men in prison for their good deeds, and Mr. Campbell has unveiled 
 his character at last, and he stands out in a different guise than he did. 
 I hope your insane desire to follow the impostor to America will be 
 cured, and you will remain where you are among respectable j^eople." 
 
 I could stand the bitter tirade against the noble man no longer. I 
 rose and faced my cousin, and said, with all the emphasis in my 
 power ; 
 
 ' ' I tell you what, I would rather trust Mr. Campbell with my prop- 
 erty, life, and even my soul's safety, than trust you or all the respect- 
 able people of whom you speak. You are defamers, and false 
 accusers, and persecutors ; but God will punish you all, if you do not 
 repent. He says, ' Vengeance is mine ; I will repay. ' Now, I am 
 going to Glasgow, to the jDrison, and if all Scotland rise up and perse-
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 249 
 
 cute Mr. Campbell to the death, I shall stand by him to the last. I 
 do not doubt him. When Christ, his Master, was on earth, he was 
 doubted and mocked, and falsely accused, and persecuted for libel, 
 and when his false friends fell away from him, a few faithful women 
 stood by the persecuted Savior of mankind, and I shall follow the 
 example of these good women, and what they did for Christ, I shall, 
 as far as is in my power, do for his faithful servant." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" again burst from this cynic; "he will only be punished 
 for his bad deeds, that is all." 
 
 "I am weary and disgusted with your talk; I shall go to Mr. Camp- 
 bell, to his prison-cell, and your respectable house I shall never enter 
 again." 
 
 So saying, I left the house and never entered it again. 
 
 I took the train for Glasgow, and went directly to the prison. I 
 went up to the gate boldly, and asked for admittance. I was taken 
 to a private room, and an old woman came to me and was about to 
 search me. I asked her what she meant by attempting to turn my 
 pockets outside-in? 
 
 "I want to see that ye tak nathing ta the prisoner," she said. 
 
 I told her I wished to see an American gentleman, and no criminal, 
 but one falsely imprisoned. 
 
 "O, aye, come awa; I didna ken wha ye wanted ta see." 
 
 I was forthwith turned over to the turnkey. He conducted me to 
 the foot of a stair, where was a great iron-studded door, which was 
 opened, and when I passed through, it shut with a bang, and locked 
 with a sound, which, with the clang of the ponderous keys, made 
 my blood run cold. I was conducted through the gloomy corridor to 
 the cell of the distinguished prisoner. Here Mr. Campbell held his 
 levees as if he were in a palace; here he received notable visitors. 
 Just as I entered the cell, I was astonished to see Mr. Neil (my cousin), 
 and with him several of the gray-haired fathers of the church who had 
 refused to hear Mr. Campbell preach; but a revolution had taken 
 place in their minds. They stood in the presence of him whom they 
 called a revolutionist with their heads uncovered. When these good 
 men heard of the incarceration, they ran to the rescue. Many of 
 these men were rich, and they said they would go security to any 
 amount, rather than have Mr. Campbell go to prison. They plead 
 with Mr. Campbell to accept their bail, but he courteously refused. 
 These men rallied round him and became his warmest, stanchest 
 friends, though at first they refused to hear his "new-fangled doc-
 
 250 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 trines." They determined to see Mr. Campbell righted if possible. 
 They could not bear to see a stranger, a gentleman, suffer persecution 
 without cause. Mr. Campbell had told me that he had trouble, and 
 on the day we parted, he told me he had heard of a warrant being out 
 against him, to prevent him leaving Scotland; but if he was not forci- 
 bly detained he would proceed on his way as appointed. He was 
 detained, and lodged in a cell in Bridewell, instead of a cabin on board 
 a steamer. Mr. Henshall, his traveling companion, went to Ireland, 
 and Mr. Campbell to prison. His incarceration came about in this 
 way. When he first arrived at Edinburgh he was kindly received by 
 the brethren, many of whom came from distant parts to meet him. 
 He preached to crowded houses, who heard him gladly. When it 
 was known that he came from Virginia, nothing seemed more suitable 
 to his Presbyterian opposers than to get up a furor against Mr, Camp- 
 bell on the slave question. The antislavery excitement was running 
 high in Scotland at the time. To prevent the crowds from going to 
 hear the truth, as Mr. Campbell proclaimed it, three gentlemen called 
 upon him one day, and in the most friendly way asked him what his 
 opinion of slavery was. Their bland manner and plausible speech 
 was intended to put him at his ease and off his guard, and to conceal 
 the character of their errand, which was hostile to him. He, think- 
 ing these three were friends, did not disguise his sentiments concerning 
 slavery. He said he had no slaves himself, nor could he keep them 
 consistendy. He beheved in educating the slave for freedom, and 
 then emancipating him. He said the Bible in olden time had sanc- 
 tioned slavery. Abraham was a slave-owner, and the mere owning of 
 slaves did not unchristianize a man. The laws of the country upheld 
 slavery. These double-minded gentry made their most polite conges, 
 bidding a most friendly good-bye to their unsuspecting victim. A few 
 hours later all Edinburgh was ablaze with flaming placards, with scarlet 
 letters as large as one's hand. "Citizens of Edinburgh, Beware! 
 Beware! The Rev. Alexander Campbell, of Virginia, United States 
 of America, has been a man-stealer himself, and is a defender of man- 
 stealers." At that time such placards were calculated to raise a mob 
 and drive any man from the city. But Mr. Campbell had many pro- 
 tectors and friends. He made a visit to Dundee for a few days, where 
 he wrote a letter to the editor of the Edinburgh Journal, saying he 
 would consent to have a debate on his position in regard to the slave 
 question in America, with any one whom the Antislavery Society 
 might appoint, or even a written discussion.
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 25 1 
 
 "I will, in either way," said he, "meet any gentleman whom you 
 may select, even Mr. Robertson himself, provided, only, that he be 
 not the Rev. James Robertson, who was publicly censured, and ex- 
 cluded from the Baptist Church at Dundee, for violating the fifth 
 commandment in reference to his mother, of which I have heard 
 somethmg at Dundee." 
 
 The editor of the Edinburgh Journal refused to publish the letter, 
 but Mr. Campbell's friends had it published at their own expense in 
 pamphlet form. At the next meeting that Mr. Campbell had, hundreds 
 came to hear what the man-stealer had to say for himself; hundreds 
 came to hear the great and good man preach the everlasting gospel, 
 and hundreds more, like the Athenians of old, came to hear some 
 new thing. The largest hall in Edinburgh was filled; every window- 
 sill, nook and aisle was packed. It was estimated that from 6,000 to 
 7,000 were present on the occasion. Before Mr. Campbell addressed 
 the vast assembly, he told them that the placards printed and posted 
 everywhere on the streets and lanes of all the cities and towns he 
 attempted to preach at, were false and calumnious. He also read the 
 letter to them that he had written to the Edinburgh Journal, whose 
 editor had refused to publish it. The allusion to a Rev. James Rob- 
 ertson so exasperated the reverend gentleman who had called on Mr. 
 Campbell, that he based a suit against Mr. Campbell for libel ; dam- 
 ages, ;^5,ooo; thus coming to the front and acknowledging himself 
 to be the man who abused his mother. Three Rev. James Robertsons 
 of the Presbyterian Church being in the city, of course Mr. Camp- 
 bell could not tell which was he ; but now he stood confessed. 
 
 The Antislavery Society thanked the Rev. J. Robertson for placard- 
 ing Mr. Campbell, as they believed his report correct. Now a mali- 
 cious feeling took possession of the reverend gentleman, and he 
 determined to hunt down, like a wild beast, the man he could not in- 
 jure by his lies. Mr. Campbell went on, on his mission of peace and 
 good will to man. He came to Glasgow and found himself pleasantly 
 situated at the home of Mr. Patton. He preached to a large assem- 
 bly at Glasgow, who inclined to be uproarious at first, but quieted 
 down under the powerful influence of the speaker. While in Glasgow, 
 he received a summons to appear before the Sheriff's court on a charge 
 of libel. A hue and cry was raised by the reverend gentleman that 
 Mr. Campbell was about to fieethe country and from justice; hence a 
 warrant was presented to him to prevent him filling his appointments, 
 at the instance of the reverend persecutor. Also, to prevent the peo-
 
 252 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 pie from going to hear the grand old gospel preached, the vile, lying 
 placards were posted on the corners of all the streets. The first I saw 
 was in great red letters, "Beware! Beware! of the Rev. Alexander 
 Campbell, President of Bethany College, Virginia, United States of 
 America. A Man-stealer; A Friend of Slaveholders, and an Abettor 
 of Slavery." When I saw these flaming words all over Glasgow I was 
 indignant; I was ashamed. When I entered the stone cell in which 
 the grand old man was confined, I was so ashamed of my country 
 that for a few minutes I could not speak. When I found voice, I 
 said: 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Campbell, Scotland never did this disgraceful act. One 
 man or a few men may have been so wicked as to persecute you, but 
 , Scodand will yet vindicate you, and do you honor, and your incarcer- 
 'ation will redound to the everlasting disgrace of the one or the few 
 who have dared to persecute you. I have come to stand by you to 
 the last, as did a few faithful women by their Master when he was 
 betrayed and forsaken by false friends. The women practiced what 
 He had taught them, and I wish to show that I have been benefited 
 by your teaching." 
 
 "And I do most assuredly appreciate your motives. They do honor 
 to the Christian's heart, and if, by reason of my imprisonment, I can 
 not preach in public, I can write," said he, putting his hand on a piece 
 of paper, that was lying on the table beside him. 
 
 "Well," I said, "your writings will be read everywhere; a knowl- 
 edge of your unjust treatment will touch the hearts of my country peo- 
 ple; a reaction will take place, and all Scotland will yet call you 
 blessed. * Your persecutors may hate you all the more, when they find 
 themselves baffled." 
 
 Mr. Campbell smiled. "You prophesy well; be it so." 
 
 The cell was about seven feet square, with an arched roof of stone, 
 as well as walls and floor, a very narrow window, high up in the wall, 
 strongly barred with iron, and two very large hooks fastened into the 
 walls opposite each other. The furniture was a very little table and 
 a very small bench; the bench I sat on, while Mr. Campbell sat, or 
 rather leaned, on the table. A piece of carpet, the size of a pocket 
 handkerchief, was on the floor. Oh, this is dreadful, I thought, and 
 tears filled my eyes. I looked at the huge hooks in the walls, and 
 wondered if they were to chain felons to. He seemed to be able to 
 read my thoughts. He touched the hooks, and said : 
 
 "I feel the cell cold, having no fire-place, and I can not lie down in
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 253 
 
 the daytime, if I felt the need of it; I have no sofa, as you see, no bed. 
 But my valet de chambre comes into my cell at night, and hangs on these 
 hooks my hammock, in which I lie comfortably till morning." 
 
 "Why," I asked, "do you stay here one hour, when your Paisley 
 friends are so anxious to go your security to set you free?" 
 
 The reason, he said, that he had preferred to go to prison was, that 
 he would by so doing see how far the superlative philanthropists, the 
 antislavery society of Scotland, would persecute a preacher of the 
 Gospel of Christ for his opinions, which are his own property. A man 
 their equal, of their own race, and educated in their midst, they are 
 persecuting; while they are advocating liberty to the negro, an infe- 
 rior, in a foreign land, that they know but little about. 
 
 "As you have said, I may serve my master, by patiently enduring, 
 like a Christian, this persecution. I feel perfectly happy here, though 
 not surrounded by comforts as if at home. But I am in the Lord's 
 hand, and I am willing to suffer for his sake." 
 
 I left that gloomy prison with mingled feelings of love and admira- 
 tion for the Christian fortitude of the great man, great in every respect, 
 and indignation for the mean, sycophantic, persecuting Robertson. 
 But what could be expected from a man, even a reverend, who could 
 ill-treat his mother. Mr. Campbell had done nothing worthy of im- 
 prisonment. He had been publicly insulted, and he wished not to 
 leave the prison till those who ordered him to it should release him. 
 But he was not left to the horrors of solitary confinement, for his many 
 friends from all parts of Scotland flocked to visit him. The sisters 
 Fatten, Gilmore, Dron and myself were the lady visitors at the prison, 
 and all vied with each other to make him comfortable. The jailor was 
 very indulgent. The law only allowed two persons in the cell at one 
 time, and only two hours in the day; but ten and twelve persons were 
 admitted at once, and at all hours of the day. Mr. Campbell was 
 serene and cheerful through it all, writing, when he had a little time 
 alone, and teaching, when he had an audience, which he often had. 
 
 The trial came on, and when Mr. Campbell appeared before Lord 
 Murray, he was quite unwell, from the want of a fire in his cell, and 
 room to exercise. He had taken a bad cold. Lord Murray heard the 
 case, pronounced the warrant illegal, and ordered Mr. Campbell to be 
 discharged honorably, to the great chagrin of Mr. Robertson. Paisley 
 was the first place he preached at after his liberation. Here he had 
 loyal and true friends. All the dear old men, who ran away from him 
 at first, clustered round him now, doing all they could to honor him.
 
 254 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The first sermon he preached was in the Baptist Church. No absentees 
 this time; the large house was crowded in every part. 
 
 Mr. Campbell prefaced his discourse by a thrilling account of his 
 imprisonment, and its cause. He read the letter that he had written 
 to the Edinburgh Journal. He was listened to with the most profound 
 attention and breathless silence for a time; but the deep emotion of 
 the crowd could not be suppressed. Every eye was full of tears, and 
 here and there a sob would burst out, and now and then a suppressed 
 groan would be heard. It was with difficulty that Mr. Campbell pro- 
 ceeded with his discourse; he was so hoarse from the cold he had 
 taken in the cell. The fathers in Israel were sitting with bowed heads 
 weeping, with their faces buried in their handkerchiefs. That day is 
 never to be forgotten. At leave-taking, many wept sore, because they 
 would see his face no more on earth. He was to preach at Glasgow 
 that night, and so was driven back in a private carriage to fill his ap- 
 pointment. He was followed by a very large number of friends. With 
 his large retinue, he entered the crowded hall, which was the largest in 
 the city. Upon rising to speak, he had completely lost his voice. 
 Doctor Watson, a member of the church at Glasgow, that I joined ere 
 I left home, was President of the Antislavery Society, and was for- 
 merly a fellow student of Mr. Campbell's at the Royal College, at 
 Glasgow. The doctor had resigned his chair in the society, because 
 Rev. Robertson persecuted Mr. Campbell from personal revenge, under 
 pretense that he was serving the society, and that it upheld him in all 
 his acts. The doctor, being in the hall, was called up to the platform. 
 He discovered that Mr. Campbell was laboring under a high degree of 
 fever, and not fit to exert himself, either mentally or physically. He 
 therefore informed the people that Mr. Campbell was quite ill, and un- 
 fit to preach, and as no one present was able to take his place, he 
 would take the liberty to dismiss the audience. The vast assembly 
 went out in sadness and silence. Mr. Campbell resigned himself to 
 his friends, who took charge of him that night, and nursed him. He 
 purposed going to Ireland next day, but his friends said he must not 
 go for two reasons: first, he was too sick; second, the Rev. J. Robert- 
 son, incensed at the Court pronouncing his warrant illegal, consequently 
 the imprisonment equally so, appealed to a higher court, and had a 
 second warrant out, ready to take him at the point of departure. The 
 friends of Mr. Campbell knew all the secret movements of the Rev. J. 
 Robertson, and determined to protect him, whether he would or not.
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 255 
 
 So one of the gentlemen playfully put his hand on Mr. Campbell's 
 shoulder, and said: 
 
 "In the name of the Church of Christ, I hold you a prisoner." 
 
 "Well," said he, "if I am to be a prisoner, I may as well be one to 
 my friends, as one to my enemies. I submit." 
 
 He was carried to a friend's house, a few miles from town, where, 
 with good nursing, and good company, he soon recovered sufficiently 
 to resume his labors. Through all this time of trouble, sickness and 
 persecution, he never was heard to utter one word of complaint against 
 the laws of the land, or against his vindictive pursuer. He believed 
 he was suffering for the truth, and was happy to be found worthy to 
 suffer. 
 
 A small vessel was found about to sail for Ireland. A few friends 
 accompanied Mr. Campbell in this vessel, and landed him safe on the 
 Irish shore. The Rev. J. Robertson was foiled ; his emissaries had to 
 return empty-handed. They said "the bird had flown." This was on 
 the 14th of September, and the second trial was to come on at the 
 November term. Mr. Campbell was at his own home, among the hills 
 of Bethany, ere the time came. The day arrived, and the case Avas 
 tried before all the Lords of the Court of Sessions. In this Court, the 
 highest in Scotland, the decision of Lord Murray was confirmed, and 
 the prosecutor, the Rev. J. Robertson, was condemned to pay the costs 
 of both sides, which was now a large sum. Besides, the Lord Justice 
 General, Lord FuUerton, Lord McKenzie, and the celebrated Lord 
 Jeffries, gave their concurring opinion. The Rev. J.Robertson, in fear 
 and trembling, offered to withdraw the suit for damages, if Mr. Camp- 
 bell's friends would pay one-half the costs. This they would not do, 
 as he could not prove a libel. Although the whole Court of Queen's 
 Bench had decided against him, yet he wished it understood that Mr. 
 Campbell had escaped from justice on the first trial by some informal- 
 ity. The friends of Mr. Campbell, and they were many, compelled 
 Mr. Robertson to try the case on its own merits, and suit was brought 
 against him for false imprisonment. The pit which was dug for the 
 illustrious stranger, by the Rev. J. Robertson, he ignominiously fell 
 into himself. Finally he was compelled to hear Mr. Campbell cleared 
 and justified, and he was condemned to pay all costs and ^2,000, or 
 $10,000, damages to Mr. Campbell for false imprisonment. To avoid 
 paying, and the alternative of going to prison, he absconded. His dis- 
 grace was complete, when he fled the kingdom, and those who supported
 
 256 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 him in his mad mahce had to pay for it. They were now reaping the 
 fruit of their labors, and it was well earned and richly deserved. 
 
 One evening, a few months after Mr. Campbell left Scotland, I was 
 sitting with him in his favorite parlor, at his dear Bethany home, Avhen 
 the mail was handed to him. He looked over the post-marks, and 
 selected a foreign letter to read. 
 
 "Sister Davies, I shall read you Brother Patton's letter, as your 
 interest in my Scotch letters is very great," he said. 
 
 When he read the letter to me, I fairly clapped my hands for joy at 
 the final defeat and disgrace of the dire persecutor, and his flight to 
 the country of his victim. Mr. Campbell smiled at my enthusiasm. I 
 I asked him not to take the ten thousand dollars, but to leave it to the 
 poor of Scotland, and his honored name would be handed down to 
 posterity as the great preacher who had been persecuted by a Scotch- 
 man for the sake of the truth, yet the philanthropic friend of Scotch- 
 men, He told me that he had already refused to take any money. 
 He said he had no desire for revenge. 
 
 "One question more," I said, "and do not think me bold, Mr. 
 Campbell. Suppose Mr. Robertson, who has fled to this country in 
 disgrace, Avere in distress and should come to Bethany, would you 
 give him food and shelter?" 
 
 "And thereby heap coals of fire on his head?" said Mr. Campbell, 
 laughing. 
 
 "No, no, I did not mean that; but would you forgive your enemy, 
 and return good for evil?" 
 
 "I think that in this case I shall not be called upon to do anything 
 for my enemy." 
 
 After Mr. Campbell sailed from Scodand, he Avas not forgetful of 
 his promise to write to me, though his engagements might have exon- 
 erated him from blame had he forgotten; but his word was sacred, and 
 he wrote to give me more definite instructions for my guidance in my 
 travels. He also told me that two young gentlemen, sons of a Mr. 
 Tener, were going to college at Bethany, and an aunt of his own was 
 going to Bethany to her children, who were there. 
 
 "So you will have good company and protection by the way. And 
 you will do well not to tarry by the way, or anywhere, till you reach 
 Bethany, which I hope you intend to do, and we shall try to induce 
 you to remain there, when we see you among our beautiful hills." 
 
 Again when he reached England he Avrote to me to say that the ship 
 Siddons, in which he and Brother Henshall came to England, was to
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 257 
 
 sail in a few days; that he had given Capt. Cobb, the master, charge 
 concerning me to take care of me on the voyage ; that he had secured 
 
 the cabin for me that he had occupied with Brother H , and when 
 
 I landed at Liverpool, friends would be there to receive me and attend 
 to my re-embarkation. Mr. Campbell sailed in the steamer Cambria. 
 The brethren presented him and Mr. Henshall each with a very large 
 copy of the Polyglot Bible before they left Scodand. I had a very 
 near and dear friend to come a long distance to see me, and to try 
 to persuade me not to go to America. 
 
 "What unheard of temerity for you to go to that slave country. 
 Do you not know that that Mr. Campbell is a man-stealer, and he will 
 surely sell you for a slave? Do not go; oh, do not go to that dread- 
 ful country if you value your liberty. Stay with us; we will be kind 
 and good to you. O stay." 
 
 Poor, dear Jessie was in an agony. I felt inclined to indulge in a 
 hearty laugh, but when I saw the great tears rolling down her cheeks 
 I forebore. I told her, however, that she need give herself no con- 
 cern about me ; I was not in the least danger of being sold for a slave. 
 I was not only going to America, but to Bethany, the very home of 
 the great and good man she so much dreaded, and of whom she knew 
 nothing. When I get there, I shall write to you and tell you how 
 happy I am. She wept sore at my decision. 
 
 "You will surely repent taking this step as long as you live; but re- 
 pentance will come too late if once you cross the ocean. Be warned, 
 dear Eliza, and do not go." 
 
 My only answer was: "I am going, and I beg of you not to distress 
 yourself on my account, as it is unnecessary." 
 
 We bade each other farewell in sadness and tears. She gave me 
 up for lost, and went away to her distant home, and I to my prepara- 
 tions to travel to unknown lands. Jessie and I have never met again. 
 Ere I departed, I visited the grand old Paisley Abbey. The chapel 
 is kept in good repair for public services on Sunday. While I walked 
 through the aisles, I trod lightly over the sleepers that were there. 
 The sanctity of death was in the place. The sun shed a soft and 
 mellow light through the diamond-shaped, painted windows. I wan- 
 dered over every part of the ancient edifice," and then I ascended to 
 the battlements, and looked down on the graves of friends and foes. 
 How peacefully they slept, side by side. 
 
 "How still and jicaceful is the grave, where life's vain tumults past, 
 The appointed house, by heaven's decree, receives us all at last." 
 17
 
 2^8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I Stood by my father's grave, all overgrown with grass, and won- 
 dered, if he had lived, would my life have been a more sheltered one ? 
 But I checked my murmuring. My heavenly Father lived. His arm 
 had guided and protected me through many dangers. I knew more 
 of him than I did of my earthly parent, whose ashes lay so peaceful 
 beneath the tangled grass. Thy trials, dear father, are over. Thine 
 eyelids are quiedy closed in sleep, the sleep that knows no waking. I 
 leave your ashes to repose. Farewell. 
 
 My cousin Mrs. Neil accompanied me to the Carron Clyde Iron 
 works, where my dear brother Tom lived. He had returned from 
 India; had m,arried a sweet, amiable, black-haired, black-eyed wife, 
 and had a little son, blue-eyed and fair-haired, two years old. He 
 superintended some part of the gigantic works, and lived near them. 
 Tom was not at home when we arrived, but I had time to become 
 acquainted with his interesting ,wife and beautiful child meantime. 
 We told her not to intimate to Tom who I was till he should see me, 
 and we could ascertain whether he would recognize me. I did not 
 apprise them of my coming to Scodand, so my visit was unexpected. 
 A pleasant welcome awaited Tom when he came home. I was pleased 
 with the greeting of the husband and wife. We, that is, Tom and I, 
 were introduced without recognition on either side. He was not the 
 handsome, beardless youth, who had chased the little girl around the 
 flagstaff on Dumbarton Casde. An Indian sun had bronzed his cheek ; 
 a forest of rich wavy brown hair covered his shapely head, and a flow- 
 ing brown beard concealed a handsome chin. He had large, lustrous 
 brown eyes, and a handsome, stalwart frame. Oh, how my heart 
 bounded toward my noble brother; yet I was shy of him, he had so 
 changed in appearance. It was mentioned incidentally that I had 
 been to Australia. He asked me what part of Australia I had been 
 in; he said he had relations there; did I know any of them? While 
 he w.as speaking, I turned my eyes from his face, and they fell on a 
 curious litde ornament hanging on the wall. It was a little housewife, 
 with satin and velvet pockets embroided on it. It was very pretty, 
 but it had seen service, and was not suitable for the place it occupied. 
 Tom, seeing me look at the litUe oddity, took it down to show me 
 how prettily it was worked and made. 
 
 "My little sister made that for me before I went to India; dear 
 .little Eliza. She is in Australia now," he said. 
 
 I could contain no longer, and I said : 
 
 "No, Tom,"—
 
 SAD EXPERIEN'CES IX SCOTLAND. 259 
 
 I could say no more. He turned his great brown eyes full on my 
 face J the tone had touched a chord in his heart, and it vibrated. 
 
 "Good G — dl are you my little Eliza?" he exclaimed. 
 
 I bowed my head, and was instantly folded in the strong man"s 
 loving arms, and face and head covered with kisses. He took me on 
 his knee, stroked my head and toyed with my hair, saying: 
 
 **My dear little sister, you have come back to me." 
 
 He made me tell him all that had happened to me since we parted. 
 He was astonished at the child's experience. He could not realize 
 that I was anything but the child he had played with a few years ago. 
 He said I was his now; his home should be mine henceforth. I shook 
 my head, and said I had marked out my own course, and I meant to 
 walk in it. 
 
 "Little Medo-Persian, we shall see if we can not alter your arrange- 
 ments for your own good." 
 
 I left my dear Tom's pleasant family with the intention of returning 
 to spend all my spare time with them ere I left Scotland. A letter 
 from ]\Ir. Campbell awaited me at Paisley, which said, the Siddons was 
 to sail from Liverpool October ist, and I was expected in England 
 to meet my fellow-voyagers ere we sailed." 
 
 No time now for visiting ; farewells had to be written. A short 
 time and I was pacing the deck of a steamer that was about to glide 
 down the beautiful windmg Clyde. I was about to turn a new leaf in 
 my life's history, and what would be read there ? God only knew. 
 Only three short months since I set foot on British soil; less than two 
 since I landed on my native shore. This short page was full of strange 
 events. My heart trembled as my mental vision strained itself to 
 look into the unknown future. But the precious promise, "I will 
 never leave thee nor forsake thee," had a power to make me brave; to 
 resolve to live nearer to God, and serve only him. I felt sad at the 
 opposition my friends raised against me in my onward path. A hand 
 was laid lightly on my shoulder. I turned, and a gentleman in mili- 
 tary undress raised his cap ; it was Tom. 
 
 "I am not too late to take you home with me. To America, that 
 land of slavery, you must not go. What do you know of Mr. Camp- 
 bell more than we, and we all think him a man-stealer." 
 
 "Stop, brother; talk of what concerns yourself, and I will listen; 
 but of that great and exalted character you know nothing and must 
 say nothing." 
 
 "Well, sister, of him I will say nothing; but come back with me to
 
 2 Go THE STOKY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 my house, where you will be sheltered, and loved, and cared for all 
 your days. We can not let you go." 
 
 And here he offered inducements to me to tempt me to stay. His 
 love was very precious to me, and the temptation was great to go with 
 him. But I had put my hand to the plow, and must not look back to 
 the worldly goods that were offered to me, 
 
 "Brother, I can not, if I would, go back. My baggage is all on 
 board, and my passage to England paid, and in a few minutes I am off 
 to that country, where I hope to learn, of that noble, Christian gentle- 
 man, the way to heaven more perfectly, and to live among Christian 
 people. This I prefer, to living among people who know not God, 
 even if they are ever so kind to me. Dear Tom, you are making it 
 very hard for me to leave, but I must go." 
 
 "No, Eliza, you shall not go to that land of strangers. I shall 
 carry you back, and have your trunks put on shore, and let your pas- 
 sage money go." 
 
 "Tom, you can carry me ashore, because you are strong, but you 
 can not alter my resolution; you may retard, but you can not stop my 
 onward course. No, you may as well try to move Gibraltar Rock, as 
 move me from my purpose. I am going, and nothing but an overrul- 
 ing Providence can prevent. Are you satisfied?" 
 
 "Yes; but will you not come ashore for the litde time you have to 
 stay? The hotel parlor is more comfortable than this poop." 
 
 "No; unless you promise not to speak to me on the subject of stay- 
 ing." He gave a reluctant promise. "You will not try to detain me, 
 Tom?" 
 
 "No; come!" and we went ashore. 
 
 The master of the steamer passed us, and said : 
 
 "We do not sail for half an hour." 
 
 As we sat at the window overlooking the quay, we talked of our 
 soul's welfare, I urging the importance of my beloved brother becom- 
 ing religious, while yet there was time; for eternity was near. How 
 my heart yearned for the safety of this dear brother's soul. I disliked 
 to leave him above all others, for I loved him above all others. 
 
 "Oh, Tom, become a Christian, and if it be hard to part here, we 
 shall meet in heaven." 
 
 I told him I did not regret giving up earthly pleasures, nor did I fear 
 the perils of a tempestuous sea. My greatest, my only grief, was parting 
 with him. My parting words were :
 
 SAD EXPERIENCES IN SCOTLAND. 26 1 
 
 "Oh, brother, attend to your soul's eternal interests ere it be too late, 
 and let us meet in heaven." 
 
 He solemnly promised me to do this. I said : 
 
 "If our faith, hope and love are the same, we shall meet where part- 
 ing is no more, and no more weeping." 
 
 We were both weeping, and feeling the pain of parting, and in a 
 short time the great deep would roll between us. The boat-bell rang; 
 we started to our feet, and walked hand in hand on board the boat. 
 We bade each other a silent adieu. He stepped ashore, and stood like • 
 a statue. My eyes grew dim with the intensity of my grief. They 
 were chained to his retiring form, as the boat glided from the shore, 
 and down the winding river, and that noble form was hidden from my 
 sight forever. Everything grew dark, and I, fainting, fell on the deck, 
 and was carried to my cabin by a kind stranger's hand. After I recov- 
 ered, I could do nothing but weep and sob for many hours. 
 
 I will say just here, that shortly after this, Tom's interesting wife and 
 darling boy both died suddenly. It was a terrible shock to him, 
 but he soon followed them to the grave. He was superintending the 
 shipping of pig iron, when a block accidently fell on his head, and 
 killed him on the spot. Thus passed from time into eternity, one who 
 was very dear to me; but not before his peace was made with God, I 
 believe.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND, AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 
 
 Passing the Isle of Man, the Irish Sea was very rough. We were 
 driven near to the Welsh coast, and narrowly escaped shipwreck. We 
 entered the Mersey River, and landed at Liverpool, with its seven miles 
 of docks. Our steamer was behind time, and when I landed, there 
 was no one to meet me. So I hired a carriage, and went direct to the 
 ship, that was to sail that night, or in the morning. I got my baggage 
 on board, and an ofhcer told me the Siddons would not sail for a few 
 days. As Mr. Wilson had not met me on landing, I was obliged to go 
 to a hotel. An agent of the Siddons accompanied me. We had not 
 gone far from the landing, when we passed two gentleman in earnest 
 
 conversation. In one I saw the very personification of H. Van S . 
 
 I was for a moment struck with blank astonishment; but I soon recov- 
 ered, and passed on. In that moment I saw a wild surprise light up 
 his face with crimson; then an ashy paleness o'erspread it, and he 
 stood speechless and motionless, like the statue of a man. I thought 
 him thousands of miles away. The agent remarked, when he passed : 
 
 "That gentleman seemed to know you." 
 
 I answered, that I thought I knew him too, but it is simply impossi- 
 ble. The one I know is far, far away, but the likeness is very striking. 
 
 "You must resemble some one that he knows, for he was evidently 
 startled when he saw you." 
 
 "It is a singular coincidence," I said. 
 
 We reached the hotel, a private one, and the rhistress of the house, 
 a pleasant, motherly lady, took me in charge. I dismissed my escort, 
 and asked for my room; I needed rest and refreshment. I lay down 
 on a comfortable bed, and slept a long time, and awoke quite refreshed. 
 When I came down to dinner, the landlady handed me a card, saying 
 a gentleman had called, and said he would call in the evening. On 
 
 reading H. Van S on the card, it fell to the floor. What could this 
 
 mean ! Was it a reality that I had seen H. Van S ? Some mystery 
 
 or mistake is here, I thought. "How could any one know that I was 
 here?" I asked the lady of the house. 
 
 (262)
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 263 
 
 "I do not know," she said. 
 
 It was, in truth, H, Van S that I saw, and he, not knowing whether 
 
 it was me, or my ghost, that he saw, followed me to the hotel, waylaid 
 the ship agent, and asked him my name and business. Not quite satis- 
 fied, he left his card, and wished himself to see and speak to the living 
 embodiment of the image of his dreams, both sleeping and waking, and 
 not the spirit of the only being he most desired, but least expected to 
 see; for in this life, he had no hope of ever seeing me again. I had 
 banished him from my presence, wishing never to see him again in this 
 world, and here at the antipodes of where we parted, we met again. 
 It was passing strange. When he called in the evening, and I took his 
 proffered hand, it trembled; when he attempted to speak, his voice 
 trembled. He at last found voice to say : 
 
 "Surprise, joy, fear has quite unmanned me. Forgive me for thus 
 intruding upon you, after what has passed. All hope of ever seeing 
 you again was dead. When you crossed my vision this morning, I 
 was never more astonished. I could not believe it a reality till I fol- 
 lowed you, and now that I see you once more, I thank God. I have 
 much to say to you, if you will allow me to tell it." 
 
 Conditionally, I will give you permission. 
 
 "Eliza, I never, never expected to see you, and what I have to say, 
 I never* expected to whisper to mortal. You have often advised me 
 to become a sober, religious nian, and to win you, I have often prom- 
 ised and desired to keep my word. But finding the hope of winning 
 you a vain hope, I would try to drown my love for you in a debasing 
 passion. I have mixed in gay society, but all to no purpose : your 
 image stood between me and all others. I have paced the lonely 
 deck, on the bounding billows, in the midnight hour, under the quiet 
 stars, and there alone held sweet communion with you. When you 
 banished me from your presence forever, I felt that it was a fearful 
 thing to think that I loved you so hopelessly, that nothing on earth 
 could give me joy. All, all was a deep blank. I had no hope on earth, 
 only to dream of you, and hope that you might be mine in heaven. 
 Hence, I thought, if I expected to meet you in heaven, I must live a 
 new life here. While life lasts, and one ray of reason remains, you 
 are, and ever shall remain, enshrined in the deepest recesses of my soul. 
 Your prayers and your influence have saved me from many tempta- 
 tions. Oh, Eliza, I have often thought, did you but give me one word 
 of encouragement, that would have given me a hope that all was not 
 over between us forever, I should not have feared Satan himself.
 
 264 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Now our meeting is providential. Your prayers have saved me; con- 
 tinue to pray for me. I think God himself would sanctify our union 
 now. You can save me from all ill." 
 
 "Oh, cruel man," I said; "think of your mother's prayers for your 
 well-bei-ng; think of what your Savior has done to save you from evil, 
 and why do you lean on me, who am a poor, weak mortal? You, the 
 strong man, ask the weak woman to pray for you. I will pray for 
 
 you, H , that you may be kept from evil thoughts, evil actions, 
 
 and from all temptations. But oh ! who, in all this wide world, will 
 or does send up to the mercy-seat a single petition for the well-being 
 of the lone wanderer, that she be protected from temptation in this 
 trying hour? I can only clasp that promise of my Lord to my heart, 
 'I will hever leave thee, nor forsake thee.' God is my only refuge in 
 whom I trust." 
 
 The color rushed to the face of H , then left it as white as a 
 
 corpse. I told him to leave, for I could not converse with him. He 
 rose at once, and said: 
 
 "Good night, and God bless you." 
 
 It is fearful to see the conflicts of a soul that has an absorbing pas- 
 sion, and love, I believe, is all-absorbing. He who, in the strife with 
 men, is brave, bold and unyielding, will thrill and tremble at the word 
 or look of a weak woman. He may be haughty, stern, imperfbus, but 
 a gentle word will bend him to her will. But I had no kind word to 
 give, and my thoughts were enshrouded under an impenetrable veil. 
 "Alas!' what hourly dangers rise; what snares beset my way." 
 
 "O Lord, keep me in the heavenly way, and let not the tempter 
 come nigh," was my prayer. 
 
 After breakfast. Captain Van S was announced. How per- 
 verse my heart was. I had no desire to hear him repeat the story of 
 his heart-sorrow; it gave me pain, as I could give nothing but counsel 
 to the man who was struggling after a better life. Yet it seemed 
 almost impossible for him to control his feelings; for his sake, then, I 
 ought not to see him, but he so desired to be with me as the only 
 pleasure he had on earth, I felt like giving him the pleasure of my 
 company, but I suffered in his. I asked him where he went when he 
 left New South Wales? He told me he had gone to China, and be- 
 came perfectly reckless as to where he went or what became of him. 
 
 "But, Eliza, the great love I had in my heart for you, saved me 
 from utter destruction. I thought, as I never expected to see you on 
 earth, I could not expect to meet you in heaven, unless (as you often
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 265 
 
 told me) I prepared for it, and I resolved in God's strength to live a 
 new life, and become a better man. I returned to Rotherdam, and 
 abode with my mother and sister for a short time. The fatted calf 
 was killed, and all was outwardly calm for a time. My mother said 
 she thanked God for the happy change she saw in me. I thanked 
 God and you, for you were the great incentive to well-doing. A 
 young lady, beautiful, educated and wealthy, was invited to spend 
 some time with my sister, in the hope that I would lay my heart at 
 her feet, and offer her my hand. She had been selected for me by 
 both my mother and sister. She was lovely and interesting, and will, 
 no doubt, be the pride of some one's home. I had no heart to give 
 this fair girl, so could not offer my hand. I have seen many ladies, 
 and liked them for many virtues, but you only have filled my soul." 
 
 I smiled, and said: "I am not even pretty." 
 
 "You are to me peerless. When I am on land, I mix a good deal 
 in society, but I can not forget you. I do not wish to forget you. I 
 wish so to live that I may deserve you, either on earth or in heaven; 
 but up till yesterday I had no hope of an earthly nature." 
 
 "Nor have you now," I broke in; "and if you speak in the same 
 manner you did yesterday, I shall certainly refuse to see you. You 
 wound my feelings, and you seem to take a strange pleasure in so 
 doing. I have ever been careful of your feelings, and treated you 
 kindly as a sister. More than this you can not expect. Yet you 
 urge your suit here, where I am in a strange city alone, without a 
 single acquaintance but yourself. If you truly loved me, you would 
 seek my good, and protect me from evil, instead of which you spread 
 a snare for my feet. If you loved me, you would sacrifice your feel- 
 ings for my principles, and not wish me to make a sacrifice of my 
 principles. You seem to be unfeeling and selfish. I thought we 
 might have had a few days' pleasant intercourse while I remain here. 
 But I can not, will not, receive your visits if I may not have peace." 
 
 His tell-tale face, from which the color went and came, and his 
 blinding tears, told how severely he felt rebuked. He begged to have 
 the few days' pleasure of coming to see me, and I should have no 
 more to comjjlain of. I really pitied him, but I dared not show my 
 sympathy. He was himself again to outward seeming; a man in 
 whose friendship I might feel proud. He was guarded now, and he 
 began to question me why I was in England alone? Why I was going 
 to America? and if my mother knew of my going? I told him every- 
 thing, beginning with my mother's marriage; my meeting Mr. Camp-
 
 g66 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 bell; my desire to live more to God, and learn more of him from the 
 godly man to whose home I was going ; how a friend was to meet me 
 on landing, but we were behind time, and so missed him; but hoped 
 he would find me out before I sailed. 
 
 "My surprise and joy at seeing you were so great, that I only felt 
 bewildered when I saw you. I must have seemed senseless and sel- 
 fish since then, not to have asked you why you were traveling alone. 
 Oh, forgive my stupid, unreasonable manner. I regret exceedingly 
 having given you so much pain; it shall not so happen again. You 
 were kind in showing me the beauties of Sydney when I was there. 
 Now will you allow me to chaperon you over Liverpool? I know the 
 city well," he said. 
 
 I needed no better chaperon. He showed me all the lions of the 
 the city. He studied to please me in every way, and made everything 
 I saw interesting to me. I was well pleased with my intelligent guide, 
 and the time to sail drew near very quickly. Two days before sailing, 
 
 H told me he was going to America. My blood chilled at this 
 
 announcement. I was speechless. I only looked for an explanation. 
 
 "Ehza, before your arrival at Liverpool I purposed going to Amer- 
 ica; I have not altered my purpose. The only thing I have altered 
 in my plans is, that instead of taking a ship to America, I shall take 
 a passage in the Siddcvis, so that, being in the same ship with you, I 
 will be near you to take care of you on the voyage." 
 
 "Merciful Father!" I exclaimed, "what do I hear?" I was greatly 
 excited. I stamped my foot, and said: "This you shall not do? I 
 need not your care ; I shall not have it. One ship shall not carry us 
 two across the ocean. If you have paid your passage money, so have 
 I, and if you can not afford to lose it, I shall lose my money, and my 
 baggage to boot. If you go on the Siddons, I stay behind." 
 
 "I must go to America; my business demands it. I left home for 
 that purpose," he said. 
 
 "Well, if you must go, you must. The ocean path is wide enough 
 for both, but we sail apart, and never more meet on the other side. 
 This is my unalterable decision." 
 
 With blanched cheek and quivering lips, he bowed and said: 
 
 "I accept." 
 
 This tone was so subdued, the attitude so humble, my agitation was 
 calmed at once. 
 
 "I have no claim upon your heart. My thoughts can not be spoken. 
 My heart may break, or I may live after the last farewell is spoken,
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 267 
 
 but if I live, it will be to love and pray for your well-being and hap- 
 piness," he said. 
 
 After this stormy interview, I felt very miserable. I prayed that 
 the good Lord would not forsake me, but still protect me with his 
 mighty arm, and give me strength to resist the tempter's power. 
 
 Mr. Wilson, who was to have met me on landing, called to see me, 
 accompanied by Edward Tener, one of the young gentlemen who were 
 going to Bethany College. Mr. Wilson invited me to spend the re- 
 maining time I had to stay in England at his house, which was out of 
 town. The time being short, I declined. We went on board the ship, 
 where I was introduced to Captain Cobb, who said he had received a 
 strict charge from Mr. Campbell to take care of me, which he intended 
 to do. I thanked him. I was shown the comfortably fitted-up cabin 
 that Mr. Campbell had secured for his aunt and myself. When I came 
 on board the first time, I had selected this cabin ; but the steward said 
 it had been taken by Mr. Campbell for two ladies. I did not tell him 
 that I was one of the ladies till now. I had my baggage carried into 
 
 it. On the eve of sailing, H drank tea with me, and spent the 
 
 evening. It was a sad and dismal one. He said: 
 
 "An inexorable fate separates us; but I shall not, as I have often 
 done, try to quench my sufferings in the bowl, or other dissipation. I 
 will try to live as long as heaven will allow. It matters not where I 
 go, no clime can give me peace ; but I will not despair. I hope we 
 shall meet in heaven. You have set me a brave example of self-denial, 
 and I hope to profit by it," 
 
 "Oh, man may bear with suffering — his heart is a strong thing— and 
 godUke in the grasp of pain, that wrings mortality ; but tear one cord 
 affection clings to, part one tie that binds him to a woman's tender 
 love, and his great spirit yieldeth hke a reed." 
 
 My spirit was sorely tried this last night of my sojourn in England. 
 I sent up to the ever open ear of my heavenly Father a prayer for both 
 of us, to give us strength. "As thy day is, thy strength shall be," 
 came to my mind. The "good-night" was spoken, and I was left with 
 my thoughts. All my luggage was on board, my cabin was arranged, 
 and ready to receive me. I had nothing to do but go aboard, and sail 
 away. But was that all ? H came early, and took me on board, lin- 
 gered by my side, and would not leave me, till the ship moved out of 
 dock into the river. Then he looked at me with a look of unutterable 
 woe, through blinding tears; then turned his face from me, wrung my 
 hand, and leaped lightly upon the pier, and thus another sad and pain-
 
 26S THE STORY OK AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 fill r.n-cwcll was taken. Oh, what a pang shot through my heart at 
 seeing llie misery of this noble man. My innocence in the cause did 
 not make mc feel any the less for him. I looked after him, a last sad 
 look. I lirealhed a prayer for him, that none but God could hear, and 
 thus we two parted forever. 
 
 H , as he said, had business in America, connected with nautical 
 
 affairs. From Boston I received a letter from him, that I never an- 
 swered. That was after I reached my destination. Two years after, 
 I received a letter from my mother, full of bitter reproaches; first, for 
 
 treating H. Van S badly; then for causing his death. "Merciful 
 
 Father!" I exclaimed; "have I indeed done this?" I searched my 
 very inmost heart for an answer, and the response came clear from my 
 conscience, no; in thought, and word, and deed I am innocent. I 
 liave been sad and sorrowful for the sufferer, but never, willingly, or 
 knowingly, gave him pain. He did not accuse me; on the contrary, 
 he blessed me with his last breath. He said I was right in all I said 
 and did concerning him. I had been the means of making him a better 
 
 man. H went back to New South Wales in bad health. He 
 
 stayed with my mother, in hope of recovering sufficient strength to re- 
 turn to his own home, and spend the remainder of his days there. 
 'J'his was not to be. He asked my mother to walk sometimes with him, 
 •where he and I had walked. He had lost all interest in the world be- 
 sides, and he quietly lay down and slept that dreamless sleep, praying, 
 as he closed his eyes, that we might meet in heaven. I could but echo 
 
 his prayer. Poor H , yours was a turbulent life, rest now in peace. 
 
 Somewhere he had contracted fever, and never fully recovered, and 
 returned to New South Wales, and died. The remembrance of two 
 such devoted hearts, as were those of my dearly loved brother Tom, 
 and my adopted brother Henrich, cut down in the bloom of their man- 
 hood's beauty and strength, makes me sad even rW)w. They are for- 
 ever enshrined in my memory, the military man and the mariner. 
 
 October 12, 1847, a fair wind took us out into the Irish Sea; but we 
 had to "tack ship" very often in St. George's Channel, ere we were 
 fairly out on the Atlantic. Once out upon the ocean, our ship like a 
 var-horse bounded over the waves. On the second night out, our little 
 party were sitting in the fore saloon, when suddenly the ship was lit up 
 
 with a blue, lambent flame, terrific to behold. Mrs. C was very 
 
 much alarmed, and retired to her cabin, from which she did not emerge 
 while the voyage lasted. Our ship was freighted with over 400 living 
 souls from Erin's green Isle. She was large, and had a large leak in
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 269 
 
 her, through which the water rushed to an alarming extent. The cap- 
 tain would not turn back to ascertain the extent of this danger, because 
 he would have to lose a few days. So the lives of hundreds were risked 
 for a few greedy men grasping for gain. The crew were discontented 
 and quarrelsome. We were surrounded by perils. The wind was 
 blowing stiffly, and the ship was rolling heavily, and to quiet Mrs. 
 
 C 's fears, I went on deck to see what was going on. I was near 
 
 the top of the poop stair, when the captain ran toward me, caught me 
 in his arms, and carried me almost breathless right back toward the 
 stern of the ship. I thought the man had lost his senses; but before I 
 could speak, I knew his reason for acting so strangely. The captain 
 saw a great foam-capped billow rolling toward the ship with furious 
 speed, and it washed clean over the vessel, carrying the ladder away 
 on which I had stood but a moment before. He saw my danger, ran 
 to the rescue, and saved my life. He laughingly asked, if he should 
 beg pardon for so rudely taking me in his arms. I shook my head, and 
 thanked him for his unceremonious embrace, or hug, for it was more 
 like the hug of a bear; but my life was preserved, for which I was 
 thankful. The wind blew louder, and the storm grew greater, till it 
 rose to a gale. We lost our foretop mast-stay sail, or jib, and our main 
 top-gallant sail, all in a short time. The leak kept all hands at the 
 pump. The foul winds continued, and we lost our mainsail. Shortly 
 after, our foresail blew to ribbons. Our ship dipped her bows into the 
 surging sea, while her stern was tilted high in air. I enjoyed the sight 
 and feeling of riding the waves so gloriously. We had a very narrow 
 escape from being run into by a very large ship. The two ships met 
 on top of a huge wave, and the stranger's bow grazed our ship's side. 
 We lost another sail. We were fast losing our sails ere we reached 
 mid-ocean. Everything broke loose from its moorings, that was not 
 properly secured. In the steerage all was confusion; boxes and 
 benches and chests dashing and smashing, and the poor creatures 
 knocked about terribly. The wind was still high, but it had veered 
 round in our favor. I was enjoying a lively scene on deck, when the 
 steward came to me, and asked me to give him a needle and white silk 
 thread. I asked, "For what purpose?" 
 
 "To sew up a woman's leg," was the rough answer. 
 
 I went down to my cabin, found needle and thread, a salts botde and 
 some rags. I told aunt Ellen, as I left the cabin, to hold to her bed 
 tight, or she would tumble out. 
 
 "OchI ochl but this is terrible," said the poor old lady.
 
 kyO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I wont to the steerage with the steward to see the poor woman. On 
 going down the ladder, I had to press througla a cloud of impurity. 
 The stench from 350 human beings, lying in filth, and eating filthy 
 food, was very sickening. At the foot of the ladder on the floor lay a 
 poor, pale-fliced woman, with half a dozen women screaming round her, 
 
 "Och, she will die, she wilL" 
 
 A child was trying his lungs at the utmost pitch. I told a woman to 
 take the little fellow out of sight and hearing. We lifted the woman 
 up, and stretched her on a bench, and I held her with great difficulty 
 till the steward sewed the flesh from the ankle to the knee of the poor 
 woman's leg, which had been laid open, and the bones laid bare, by 
 a great chest that had broken away from its moorings, and pinned her 
 to the stair. The poor little creature stood the operation well; but 
 seeing the needle pushed through the quivering flesh made me very 
 faint. I held her tight till the last bandage was put on; then she called 
 for her lusty boy, but she could not nurse him. She smiled at him, 
 and he crowed at her. The steward performed the painful operation 
 very skillfully. I helped nurse the poor woman, and took her better 
 food than her own, till she recovered. 
 
 I told the captain that if the steerage was not thoroughly cleansed 
 the cholera or some other plague would break out among the peo- 
 ple. Reordered the sailors to "drive everyone of the dirty devils 
 on deck, and make everything clean, and make them clean after them- 
 selves in the future." In this den of dirt a woman died, and when 
 the sailors were sewing the canvas about the body of the corpse, and 
 fastening the ballast to sink it, the young husband was nearly frantic. 
 
 "Och, let her lie azy in her own feather-bed," he cried. 
 
 And he would and did have her sewed up in her feather-bed, not to 
 sink, but to float away. 
 
 When in mid-ocean we had a sublime storm. I had gone on deck. 
 The air was oppressive, but the sea looked like itself, deep, dark-blue, 
 fresh, free and boundless, without a landmark. It seemed to play 
 with the sky, which was almost cloudless. The sun shone clear and 
 bright, at the same time a sad sough was wailing through the shrouds. 
 Groups of men and women were standing and sitting on the deck 
 listlessly. Everything seemed unnaturally quiet and calm. The 
 groups on deck one after another went below. When the last disap- 
 peared, "Batten down the hatches," rang out on the stillness. The 
 captain came to me and said : 
 
 "You had better go to your cabin."
 
 i 
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOVAGE TO AMERICA. 2"] I 
 
 "I prefer to stay on deck, and see what is to be seen," I said. 
 
 "What do you expect to see?" queried he. 
 
 "A storm," I answered, pointing to a cloud that had been no bigger 
 than a man's hand when near the horizon. 
 
 It was rising and spreading and deepening and becoming more 
 dense. And suddenly from the midst of the ocean uprose the liquid 
 element in one long, high mountain chain, or ground-swell, that seemed 
 to stretch from horizon to horizon. The whole ocean seemed to 
 present a long, unbroken wall moving toward us, nearer and nearer. 
 I expecte'd every moment to be engulfed. Every man was at his post. 
 Some had swabs in their hands; all seemed expectant. I had taken 
 my post by the mizzen-mast, holding on to a rope. The wind now 
 began to blow with fury, and just as the bows of our ship went down, 
 apparently to rise no more, the great mountain wall broke into 
 thousands of billows, washing over us from stem to stern. The scup- 
 pers were all open, and the men with their swabs soon cleared the 
 deck of the great body of water that was shipped. Had the hatches 
 been open, the ship would have filled and sunk. At that moment we 
 had a narrow escape. The ship gave a leap and a plunge, and rolled 
 frightfully, so much so that I was driven from my moorings, and swung 
 in mid-air, away from the mast, then down bump against the bulwarks 
 with a bang. 
 
 "Hold on for God's sake; hold on, or you are gone," shouted the, 
 captain as he saw me swing. 
 
 When I touched the deck again with my feet, I nodded to him. 
 The wind was now blowing a gale, and the lashing, tossing, heaving 
 and foaming of the surging billows were terrific, but magnificent. 
 The whole ocean, from the central speck on which I stood to the 
 vanishing circle of the horizon, seemed one boundless, boiling cal- 
 dron; millions of waves, leaping from the abyss below, and rearing 
 themselves into blue mountain peaks, capped with snowy foam, 
 sparkled in the light for a moment, and then sank in the dark 
 and roaring deep. My whole soul was lifted up in reverence and awe 
 to the great Ruler of the tempest. All this while I stood gazing forth 
 upon the stormy surface of the sea, and as I looked the wind went 
 down as suddenly as it had risen ; but not so the angry waters. The 
 captain came to me and said : 
 
 "You are very brave; you would make a good sailor's wife." 
 
 I thanked him for his compliment, and asked him to assist me to go
 
 ;-2 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 below. I thought Aunt Ellen would be anxious about my long ab- 
 sence. I was well satisfied with the grand spectacle I had seen. 
 
 A worse gale burst upon us one night than any that we had met. 
 Everything in the steerage gave way, and the smashing up of every- 
 thing frightened the people nearly out of their wits. Such screaming 
 and swearing and praying were going on as made the confusion worse 
 confounded. In the tumult, a woman gave birth to a child before her 
 time. It died and was thrown out in the deep without ceremony. A 
 few hours afterward a woman died, and was also thrown out, and ere 
 another day passed another child died, and was tossed into the deeiD. 
 It is a solemn thing to die at any time and place; but how much more 
 so to die at sea, when the friends have to toss their beloved ones, with- 
 out ceremony, to the sharks, without even a canvas coffin. 
 
 A fine day after a gale would give us a little rest before another 
 outburst. I hardly ever slept on board the Siddons — first, because the 
 leak in the ship was gaining; the pumps were going all the time, and 
 I thought at any hour we might fill and sink, and I did not wish to go 
 down in my sleep. Gale after gale followed in quick succession, till 
 we were worn out with the pitching and tossing. The poor sailors 
 had to climb the shrouds and reef the top sails when the tall masts 
 were swaying every way, resting their feet on a slack-rope, and, as 
 they say, "holding on by their eyelashes," while their hands were 
 reefing. One poor fellow lost his foothold, and fell headlong down 
 on top of the cook's galley, and was greatly injured. Many a prayer 
 was sent up from that distressed ship for rest from the storms. We 
 were all very much subdued and worn out. One day an Irishman 
 came staggering upon deck, in the midst of a severe storm, calling out, 
 
 "Mister Mate, Mister Mate, the shijD is sinking; come and see the 
 big hole in her." 
 
 Poor Pat was in mortal terror, but the mate did not laugh at him, 
 but at once went with him to see the hole. He was alarmed himself, 
 fearing another leak. However, all fears were soon quieted. A port- 
 hole that had been calked bursted open, and in rushed the water. 
 Pat was told there was no danger. The real danger we were in was 
 kept from these poor, ignorant creatures. Our ship was drifting under 
 bare poles, all her sails furled. We sometimes thought we were buried 
 under the water; we shipped such tremendous seas, and the ship did 
 not ride the waves as she was wont. The captain, mate and crew- 
 were all on deck all night. The storm-sail was set. The poor sailors 
 were jjitched out of the rigging, and some almost overboard. The
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 273 
 
 ship gave one tremendous lurch, and Hfted me clean out of bed, and 
 threw me with violence against the opposite side of my cabin. I 
 thought the side of the ship had gone and I with it. The turnout was 
 so sudden that I gave a scream, the first since I came on board. 
 Our storm-sail and part of the bulwarks went overboard with this 
 dash of the angry waves. 
 
 October 30th, we were on the great bank of Newfoundland, with 
 a fair wind, fine weather, and all in good spirits. A little stranger 
 who had come to the ship in a storm left it in a calm. It died and 
 was buried on the banks. We passed the banks without accident. 
 The sea looked like a sheet of burnished silver. We had a good 
 tossing in the Gulf stream, and another thunder and lightning storm. 
 Our lights were all put out, and we were left in darkness that might 
 be felt, while the blue glare of the lightning made the scene more 
 terrible. The next day the wind changed in our favor, but blew a 
 perfect hurricane. We were sitting about on our cabin floors, holding 
 on to any and everything we could find to keep from being dashed to 
 pieces against the walls. The cold was intense, but we had no fires. 
 Another short respite brought us to the deck again. The captain was 
 taking the sun's altitude; his smiling face had not been seen for sever- 
 al days. The mate was throwing the log, to see how many knots an 
 hour she was sailing, when one of the sons of Erin called out: 
 
 "Mike, Mike, come and see the mate measuring the sea, and the 
 captain is looking for New York somewhere hereabouts." 
 
 "Land ho!" The joyful sound rang through the ship. What pre- 
 parations for going ashore ! All was bustle. We let go anchor be- 
 tween Staten and Long Islands. We were very much battered and 
 shabby-looking. All hands had enough to do to keep the old ship 
 afloat, and had no time to dress her up and paint her. Two splendid 
 vessels, dressed in their best, with colors flying triumphantly, passed 
 us in our lowly condition, cheering loud and long. We were not 
 inclined to cheer. Their triumph was short-lived. One of the great 
 beauties, without a pilot, ran ashore on Long Island. We took a 
 pilot on board ere it was too late, and passed the stranded ship. We 
 did not cheer at her in her distress. We merely bowed to her and 
 passed on through the narrows. Just one month from England, a 
 long and stormy one. A rougher, more disagreeable, stormier voyage 
 could not be imagined. The captain seemed never to have undressed 
 all through the voyage. He had a badly disciplined ship, inferior 
 officers, mutinous sailors, drunken and disorderly, a leaky, unsea- 
 18
 
 2^4 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 worthy vessel. The wonder is that we ever got across. In all the 
 dangers we had to pass tlirough, I never had a feeling of fear. 
 
 "Rocked in the cradle of the deep, 
 I laid me down in peace to sleep; 
 Secure I rest upon the wave, 
 For thou, O Lord, hast power to save." 
 
 As we passed into New York Bay, and sailed past the battery, the 
 windows were all ablaze with reflected sunlight; the busy boats were 
 plying to and fro on the broad expanse of water, and a forest of tall 
 masts near by told their own tale. I saw for the first time one of the 
 Hudson river steamboats. It gave me a lively idea of what Noah's 
 Ark looked like. A moving mountain could not have amused or sur- 
 prised me more than this. I was still more surprised when I saw the 
 elegant interior. We hardly passed the health officers. Though all 
 were on deck, many were sick. Then came the Custom-house officers. 
 I opened my trunks ; I was asked if I had anything but wearing ap- 
 parel. I said I had many things that I did not wear, but nothing I 
 thought that required duty to be paid on it. 
 
 "I shall take your word as the word of a lady, and pass your bag- 
 gage without examination." 
 
 This was a different affair from that of passing at London. 
 
 Our little party of five landed on the Western hemisphere on the 
 1 2th of November. We dined at a restaurant, Aunt Ellen, her grand- 
 son, a boy of twelve, the Tener brothers and myself. Then we parted. 
 The brothers purposed staying a few days at New York. We met 
 again at Bethany. I bestirred myself, for I had two inexperienced, 
 helpless travelers and their luggage to look after. I had all removed 
 to the railway depot, and checked for Philadelphia, and got our tickets 
 for that place. I took Aunt Ellen and her boy into the cars, and seated 
 them comfortably, and sat down behind them, glad to rest, for I was 
 very tired. Presently a foppishly dressed man sat down by me. He 
 was bedizened with pinchbeck jewelry, and had a sinister, downcast 
 countenance. He began in a free and easy way to talk to me. I had 
 a Scotch dislike to the liberty he took. His manner had a different 
 
 effect upon Mrs. C , and he turned his conversation to her, and fed 
 
 her grandson on peanuts and candy, to the delight of the boy. Mrs. 
 
 C thought me rude to this gentleman, when I did not answer his 
 
 impertinent questions; such as, "Is that old woman your mother? 
 where did you come from ? where are you going ? have you any gen-
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 275 
 
 tleman with you to take care of you and your luggage." Mrs. C- 
 
 answered the last question, upon which the stranger offered his ser- 
 vices, which I refused very decidedly, and said I could attend to my 
 
 own business. Here I had a little lecture fiom Mrs. C . He 
 
 then said: 
 
 . "When you get on the Delaware River boat, a bell will ring for the 
 passengers to attend to their trunks; then I shall come to you for your 
 checks, and you will have no more trouble about you baggage." 
 
 Mrs. C was full of gratitude to the man. He continued: 
 
 "You can have your luggage stored at Bloodgood's Hotel, as it will 
 be late ere we land, and you can go on to your friends. I shall attend 
 to everything." 
 
 Mrs. C had told him we were to spend a few days at Philadel- 
 phia, and he laid his plans to suit. When the bell rang I was fast 
 
 asleep, with my head on Mrs. C 's lap. I sprang to my feet, and, 
 
 true to his purpose, there stood the man with the sinister look. 
 "Your checks, please." 
 
 I told him I could* attend to all I had to do myself. Mrs. C 
 
 asked, if I really meant to refuse his polite offer? I said: 
 
 "For myself, certainly;" but she could choose him to guard her lug- 
 gage, and could give up her checks to him, if she wished. 
 
 She told me to "go along," and she apologized to the man for my 
 manner. I was with others at the baggage wagon. I had all our 
 checks spread out on my hand ready, when the numbers were called, 
 when the fellow sneaked up to my side, and snatched every one out 
 of my hand. I knew our trunks as they appeared, and ordered the 
 man to hand up the checks. I had all the baggage piled up ready for 
 a porter. I saw the fellow talking to a porter, and point to me, and said : 
 "There, that pile!" 
 What did this mean? I sent a hack driver into the saloon for Mrs. 
 
 C , and to send the boy to me to watch the luggage, till I found a 
 
 porter. No boy came, and I waited till nearly all had left the bolu. 
 
 I ran to the saloon, and found neither Mrs. C nor the boy ; they 
 
 had gone, and taken all the wraps and small articles with them. \\'hiit 
 was I to do? I went back to the luggage, but to my amazement, it 
 was all gone, not a vestige left to tell where it had stood, and no per- 
 son to be seen. I had to leave the boat. I landed amid a perfect 
 Babel of sound. It was past midnight, pilch dark, and raining hard. 
 I pushed my way through a dense crowd of men, horses, hacks and 
 hand-carts. I could see nothing of Mrs. C or the luggage amid
 
 gyC THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the confusion. I inquired my way to Bloodgood's Hotel, where I saw 
 n light, and opened a door. When I passed from the dark street into 
 a room flooded with gasUght, the effect was bhnding. I shaded my 
 eyes with my hand, wliile 1 advanced to where some gentlemen (?) stood. 
 T was drenched, draggled, tired, cold and perplexed. I stood hesitat- 
 ing^, for the men did not hesitate to turn and stare broadly at me. 
 Their rudeness embarrassed me; but 1 inquired, if two men had brought 
 a quantity of baggage there? They laughed, and said, 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Is this Bloodgood's Hotel?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes; it is Bloodgood's. What do you want?" was asked with a 
 sneer. 
 
 "My luggage; but you say it is not here," I answered. 
 
 I turned from them with a sick head and heart. Their hard and 
 unsympathizing gaze followed me out into the hard and pitiless face of 
 a midnight storm, and the darkness of an unknown city. I raised my 
 eyes to heaven, and heaven directed. I wandered into a street, where 
 all was still save the falling rain. I ran on, and on, and at last I stood 
 to gain breath for a minute, when I thought I heard voices. I followed 
 the sound, when I came to a lamp-post, against which was tilted a hand- 
 cart with all the missing baggage. I seemed possessed of a new spirit, 
 for I asked the rascals, who were sheltered under a porch, how they 
 dared to carry off my trunks without my consent or knowledge? I 
 was alone with these bad men, and no one near; but I was perfectly 
 fearless. I felt that God w^ould protect me. To all their falsehoods 
 I gave no heed. I told them they meant to rob us. At that moment 
 I heard the rumble of a carriage. I stood in the light of the lamp to 
 
 hail for help, when, to my great joy, Mrs. C put her head out of 
 
 the window of the hack. Oh, how thankful was I to see her. I was 
 ' rather daunted to hear her ask me, where I had been, and why I had 
 •left her alone on the boat? I said, I thought she had left me, and not 
 I her. The boy exclaimed at this; but I had to turn from them to look 
 after the luggage, lest it should be carried off again. I called to a 
 porter, that w-as hurrying past out of the rain, to take charge of the 
 trunks. I told the two suspicious ones to hand over to him the stolen 
 property. I helped to unload and reload, and told the porter to follow 
 the carriage wherever it went, and I should pay him well. The sinister- 
 looking fellow opened the carriage door for me; I jumped in, when 
 the fellow had the impudence to try to jump in after me. This was 
 •too much, and without ceremony, with all my strength, 1 pushed him
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 277 
 
 back, and he fell on the street. I told the driver to drive on. Mrs. 
 
 C gave him directions to go to the house of her friends, the Teners. 
 
 My overtaxed energies gave way, and I threw myself back in the car- 
 riage, and cried as if my heart would break. Mrs. C 's injured 
 
 air, and the boy's sharp tongue, would have amused me at another 
 time, but they only added to what I was already suffering. We roused 
 several from their slumbers asking for Mr. Tener's house, but we could 
 not find it. At last I told the driver to take us to a hotel, for I was 
 cold, wet and worn out. We had been three hours driving about. At 
 the hotel we stopped at, the people were astir- we were ushered into 
 
 a warm, bright room, where were several gentlemen. Mrs. C , 
 
 talking to the boy, drew their attention to us. I sank shivering into a 
 chair, my face red with crying. I became unconscious. The lady of 
 the house soon made her appearance, but I was still unconscious. A 
 restorative was given, but I could not move. A hot drink was given 
 
 to set the blood circulating. Mrs. C looked at my now pale, tired 
 
 face, and asked rae what ailed me. I made an effort to tell her and 
 the others present what ailed me. 
 
 I told them that within the last twenty-four hours we had landed at 
 New York, and on the cars and on the boat I had been greatly an- 
 noyed by the intrusive impertinence of an ill-favored man. I showed 
 my displeasure at his forcing his attentions upon me, and I was called 
 rude for repulsing so polite a gentleman; how the polite gentleman 
 snatched the checks from me, and when I went to the saloon for the 
 boy to watch the baggage, he and his grandmother were gone and my 
 cloak with them, and when I went back to the baggage it was all gone; 
 how I found my way to Bloodgood's, only to be stared and sneered 
 at; how I rushed shivering from the rude gaze of the unfeeling men, 
 out into darkness and rain, without an outer covering ; how I found 
 the two rascals hidden under a porch, and our luggage under a lamp- 
 post; how I recovered our stolen property, and offended Mrs. C 
 
 by my unceremonious leave-taking of the polite gentleman, and how 
 for hours we were driving everywhere to no purpose, till I was nearly^ 
 chilled to death in my wet clothes. 
 
 "Oh, the villain," said Mrs. C . 
 
 I had much to say, but the thoughtful landlady said I ought to be 
 in my room and take off my wet garments. 
 
 The gentlemen were loud in their praises of my courage and self-.' 
 possession in very trying circumstances. The cry I sent up to heaven
 
 278 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 as I rushed from Bloodgood's door was answered in giving me cour- 
 age. One said : 
 
 "I shall hunt that scoundrel up and bring him to justice." 
 
 I had escaped from the wretch, and I had no desire to see him 
 a''""ain, even to have him punished. 
 
 j^jrs. C begged a thousand pardons for what she had said. The 
 
 fellow had told her to get into a cab and I would follow; then he told 
 her that I had left the boat, bag and baggage, and she startea to find 
 Mr. T 's, but accidentally met me on the street. 
 
 My eyelids closed over weary eyes. Sleep came to my aching 
 limbs, and when I awoke at midday, I was stiff in body, but refreshed 
 in spirits. 
 
 I have a pleasant remembrance of our host, hostess and son. We 
 were kindly treated by them, and we soon prepared to resume our 
 journey. We took a train for Baltimore. Once more on the move, 
 we passed Wilmington, in Delaware; crossed the Susquehanna River at 
 Havre de Grace, and stopped a short time at Baltimore. It is a very 
 fine city. Here we took a stage-coach to cross the Alleghany Moun- 
 tains and -the Blue Ridge. This was no small undertaking. We 
 started with nine passengers inside; we did not jolt much at first, we 
 were so well packed. Men going short distances left us, and others 
 came in. Two gentlemen, however, kept their seats facing us. They 
 seemed to be on a long journey. We made ourselves as comfortable 
 as we could, and tried to take a nap now and then. While staging it 
 over mountains and rocky passes, and round the edges of precipices, 
 with four fiery horses and a Jehu holding the reins, napping is not an 
 easy matter. One night we were ascending a steep mountain side. 
 All inside of the coach seemed to be asleep but myself. One muffled 
 figure sat in the corner opposite to me, another in the corner opposite 
 to Aunt Ellen, his head thrown back, and his mouth wide open, giving 
 a snort now and then; John coiled up, with his head on his grand- 
 mother's lap, and she bowing alternately to the sleeping figures in 
 front, and I in my corner having a little amusement at what I saw. 
 We gained the summit of the mountain, and the other side was more 
 rugged and steep. Jehu gathered up the reins, cracked his whip and 
 let the horses fly down the steep mountain side to save them from 
 the coach tumbling over them, as he said. I thought the coach 
 had turned a summersault, as the horses flew down hill. It certainly 
 turned us who were on the back seat almost heels over head into the 
 laps of the sleepers in front, at the risk of broken bones, and to the
 
 FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND AND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 279 
 
 great consternation of all. The sleepers, roused so unceremoniously, 
 roared lustily ; they thought they were killed and going to be robbed. 
 When, instead of robbers, they found two women lying helpless across 
 them, who had been thrown there unintentionally, they modified their 
 roaring. I was in a predicament myself, but could not help laughing 
 at Aunt Ellen, her pitiful, "Och on, och on, but this is terrible; board 
 ship was nothing to it." 
 
 On trying to get back to our seats our heads would bump on the 
 roof of the coach, then we would be thrown about in a terrible man- 
 ner sure enough. We had a hard road to travel over the Alleghanies; 
 but on we rumbled, till we reached a small town a few miles from 
 Bethany. One evening, in the middle of dark November, might be 
 seen two phaetons winding around the base of Bethany hills at a slow 
 pace, \yith three way-worn and weary travelers, who alighted at the 
 Hibernia House, Bethany, Brooke County, West Virginia, and we were 
 at the end of our long journey.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. 
 
 For nine months I had been traveling incessantly over trackless 
 oceans, through storm and calm, over rugged mountains and rough 
 roads, and I was glad to be at my journey's end. I was weary and 
 needed rest. I could have hidden myself away and slept for a month, 
 but this was not to be. Aunt Ellen was a Mrs. Campbell, and she 
 was in her sister's house, who was also a Mrs. Campbell. Each of 
 them had large families. I thought there was here a clan Campbell, 
 with A. C. as chief, but they were an Irish instead of a Scotch clan. 
 Aunt Ellen had a rich compensation now, in meeting with her family, 
 for the pangs of parting. She was happy, and deservedly so; for old 
 and timid as she was, she had dared the dangers of the stormy sea to 
 join her children and all her loved ones. While all were greeting 
 each other kindly, I looked on; and while I sat in the shadow of the 
 window curtain, a shadow fell over my heart for a few minutes. I 
 felt all too keenly that I was a stranger in a strange land. I saw no 
 familiar face; no friend's hand grasped mine. I was not expected in 
 this household. I could not define the strange feeling that I had. 
 Was it homesickness? No; but I was alone in that crowd. I wit- 
 nessed the smiles and tears, the joy of all at meeting after so long a 
 separation. I had no smiles, no tears, no greetings, no feeling but 
 that / ^vas entirely alone. Aunt Ellen after awhile bethought herself 
 that I had not been introduced to her family, and offered many apol- 
 ogies, which were unnecessary. I was glad and happy next morning 
 to see the venerable face of Mr. Campbell. He had just heard of our 
 arrival, and had come over to see us. He told me his wife was sick 
 and could not come over to see us, but his daughters were coming to 
 see me and take me home to Bethany House. Home, did he say ? I 
 repeatedly asked myself. Am I to find a home -in this strange land? 
 Home is not a mere shelter from the storm, and bread to eat to satisfy 
 the cravings of hunger. Home is where peace reigns, and where love 
 and joy are; where one supports another with refinement of feeling 
 and Christian forbearance. This is the life that makes home happy, 
 
 (280)
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. » 281 
 
 loving hearts, high thoughts and sweet smiles. Was this the home 
 I was to find at Bethany House ? 
 
 I resolved in God's strength to 'make friends by making myself 
 friendly to all ; devoting myself to the good of others. For myself 
 I had nothing to live for, nothing to hope for, in this life. I was now 
 humanity's servant for Christ's sake. Mr. Campbell's family consisted 
 of himself and wife, his father, Thos. Campbell, his wife's mother, 
 Mrs. Bakewell; Miss Clarinda, the youngest daughter by his first 
 wife; Margaret (Mrs. Ewing and her husband), Alexander, Virginia, 
 Decima and William, the present wife's children. I did not see Mrs. 
 Campbell when I went to the house first. Her mind was deeply 
 afflicted for the loss of her boy. Her affections had been placed on 
 this boy supremely. She had thought he would live and follow in the 
 steps of his illustrious father to honor and renown, and fill, or take 
 the place of, the great man when he had passed away. Her hopes 
 and aspirations for Wickliffe were dashed to the ground. Her idol 
 was broken, and she was inconsolable. The family were in deep dis- 
 tress on her account, as well as for the loss of the child. Mr. Camp- 
 bell's home was a primitive one, with its quaint vine-clad porch, small 
 windows and low ceilings. As his family had increased, a room here 
 and one there had been added, so the house was very irregularly built 
 up. The old parlor in which he loved to sit, and where he held wor- 
 ship with his family night and morning, had hallowed associations. In 
 it he had been married to his first wife, and he could not have it 
 pulled down, but added to it. 
 
 When Mr. Campbell came home from college, he asked : 
 
 "Where is mother?" 
 
 After he had kindly greeted me, and bade me welcome to Bethany 
 House, he passed out of doors. I saw him after a while leading a tall, 
 thin, melancholy looking lady, dressed in black, with her clothes drip- 
 ping wet, and clinging to her spare figure. This was Mrs. Campbell, 
 who had been to the creek where her boy lost his life, and who was so 
 gently lead to her own room, and tenderly cared for by her noble hus- 
 band. He was full of kindness and sympathy for his afflicted wife, 
 and was very gentle with her. I had said I would live to God, and 
 my fellow-beings I would serve for his sake, and here was a field of 
 labor in this grief-stricken family, wide enough for all my present ener- 
 gies. If my life so far had been a desert, barren and storrn-beaten, I 
 had tried to give the cup of cold water to famishing lips. I sliall now 
 try to do more for Him who trieth the reins, and searcheth the heart.
 
 282 THE STOKV or AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I must not brood over' my own sorrows, or dwell on the past. A new 
 litV lay open before me. I had severed every link that bound me to 
 my former life, and save only ki a few particulars my new friends 
 knew no more of that life than if I never had lived it. All was now 
 burietl in the deep recesses of my heart, and who cared to enter the 
 penetralia? 
 
 Friends from a distance who came to see me, and the college stu- 
 dents, all greeted me kindly, and caressingly called me, "Our Dove." 
 . I never knew any man^who had so many private sorrows, to do so 
 much jiublic work as Mr. Campbell. He was never in a hurry, never 
 idle, had always time to entertain strangers. His table talk was to me 
 more valuable than gold; it was interesting, edifying and enlightening. 
 I could have listened to him for hours. We would have short lectures 
 on the organs of hearing or seeing, or some other subjects equally in- 
 teresting. Once at the breakfast table, he held up his hand, rather a 
 large one, and exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, how beautiful!" 
 
 I smiled; for according to my idea of beauty, his hand was not beau, 
 tiful. He saw me smile (nothing escaped his eagle eye), and said: 
 
 "None but God could design the mechanism of the hand, the adap- 
 tation of the thumb to the fingers, and its general use," etc. 
 
 To me the human hand has ever since had beauty in it. In company 
 his conversation took a lofty flight, even to heaven itself, and the ex- 
 treme beauty and desirableness of heaven was set forth in glowing terms 
 by his eloquent portraiture. He seemed to live more in heaven than 
 on earth. 
 
 All were delighted and instructed, none more so than myself. Every 
 theme was so entirely new to me, that I felt profoundly ignorant. I 
 also felt that I had a great, a precious privilege in being able to sit at 
 his feet and learn. His sympathy for little children was wonderful. 
 He toojc a little one out of my arms one day, and said: 
 
 "Poor little pilgrim, you have life's journey to travel if you live, and 
 it may be a rough one. Let us make it as smooth as we can for the 
 present for your litde feet." 
 
 That little child's Hfe -journey came to an end very soon; its little 
 feet never reached the rough places. His feelings were refined, and 
 he had a keen sense of the beautiful. I saw him pick up a sweet-briar 
 blossom one day, and expatiate on its beauty, and the wonderful con- 
 descension of God in making the flowers, to adorn the earth for man's 
 pleasure. He was ever elevating men's minds above the groveling
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY, 283 
 
 things of earth. His gratitude was clearly seen, for he gave thanks to 
 God for everything. His home teaching was unparalleled. His grand 
 ideas of God made him have very exalted ideas of man and of man's 
 value. He would say, 
 
 "There is more value in one human soul, than there is in millions of 
 worlds, such as this we live in." 
 
 He was a great economist of time. He rose at four A. M.; was in 
 his studio till seven; then had prayers; then breakfast, and away to 
 the college on his grey horse, to give a morning lecture to the students; 
 then attended to his printers and printing and farm till the dinner-bell 
 rang. After dinner, he would receive his heavy mail, open his letters, 
 and write till tea-time, either in his study, or in the old parlor. The 
 highest privilege any one could enjoy, I thought, was to hear him at 
 family worship in this room. His easy manner, his unstudied courtesy 
 to all, even the youngest, who was "little son Willie," and to the aged 
 patriarch, was to me an unceasing wonder and delight. Every one of 
 the family brought a Psalm, a hymn, or a portion of Scripture to the 
 evening entertainment. After the recitations, some one would be asked 
 what they thought the text or context meant. Whatever the answer, 
 however crude the idea, none was made ashamed of his ignorance ; but 
 was set right as to the great truth taught in the lesson. If a stranger 
 was present, a discussion would ensue; but it was usually a short one, 
 for all preferred to listen to the simple, sublime, beautiful and terse 
 language in which he clothed his illustrations of the lessons recited, 
 and the humorous way he would apply a text, or convey a truth. 
 Generally a hymn was sung, and if his voice was heard above the 
 others, he would say, 
 
 "I can not sing, but I can make a joyful noise. My tympanum is 
 not attuned to music, but I can make melody in my heart to the Lord." 
 
 His prayers breathe^ a heavenly spirit truly. I felt often as if I could 
 remain on my knees all night, listening to the petitions which he sent 
 up to the ear of God. I was always silent in his presence. I loved to 
 hear him, and was always profoundly attentive. I was startled one 
 evening by his calling out, 
 
 "Sister Davies, I shall make my young folks jealous of you, if I 
 make you a favorite any longer. You are one of my family, and you 
 must bring your portion of Scripture to recite, as do the others. Now 
 I expect you to add to the entertainment after this." 
 
 I was made to feel that he had a fatherly interest in me, for which I 
 was very grateful. I began to wonder if Mr. Campbell had any faults.
 
 284 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I had never seen any; yet he was human, and I did not wish to wor- 
 ship humanity. But 1 never found anything in him to lower my opinion 
 of him. Every day brought to my view new phases ot his noble ehar- 
 acter. 
 
 Miss Clarinda gave me a warm welcome to Bethany House. She said : 
 
 "I do not wish you to feel 'the stranger's heart' with us. You have 
 left your home, your friends and your country to come and live among 
 us, and you shall have a home in our midst, if we can make it so for 
 you, and we shall try." 
 
 Peerless Clarinda! the graces of her mind surpassed the graces of 
 her person, and she was wondrously beautiful. She was a model 
 Christian lady of a high order, and set a noble example to all around. 
 I asked Miss Clarinda one day, why I received so much kind attention 
 from everybody, not only the family, but strangers? I said: 
 
 "There is nothing in me or about me that can attract or deserve so 
 much attention as I am receiving. There must be some mistake. I 
 must be taken for some one else, and when the friends find that they 
 have lavished caresses on the wrong person, they will frown on me, 
 because I have accepted them, though I have done so with a very bad 
 grace." 
 
 Miss Clarinda seemed surprised at my question, and said: 
 
 "We have made no mistake; your name is 'Dove.'" 
 
 "No," I rejoined; "it is Davies." 
 
 "Then you do not know why we call you our dear 'Dove?'" 
 
 "No," I do not." 
 
 "Did you know my father in Scotland? did you visit him in prison? 
 did you leave your country and friends to come and live with the peo- 
 ple over whom Mr. Campbell has influence?" 
 
 "Most certainly I did;" and I laughed at the manner in which I was 
 catechised. 
 
 "Well, you are with the people over whom Mr. Campbell has in- 
 fluence, even his own family. He wrote to us about your zeal and 
 your kindness, and also that Elijah of old had been fed by ravens, but 
 that he was more fortunate, for he had been administered unto by 
 doves ; and when he came home he told us that one of his doves was 
 coming to America to cast in her lot with us, and that he had invited 
 her to come to Bethany, and he hoped we all would show her how 
 her kindness had been appreciated, and make her feel at home in our 
 midst. Now, who do you think the dove is if you are not?" 
 
 "Oh," I said, "I do not know of any one but myself, and I do feel
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. 285 
 
 highly honored by the name. I now prize it beyond measure, and I 
 shall show you how I can appreciate your kindness and consideration 
 of me." 
 
 Mrs. Bakewell, Mrs. Campbell's mother, was an English lady of 
 the old school, deeply prejudiced against everything American. She 
 fell sick, and I went to see her in her room. It so happened that a 
 servant had just placed her breakfast on a table in front of her bed. 
 I placed the table and breakfast things so they could be reached by 
 the invalid without fatigue. This little act awakened the old lady's 
 kindliest feelings. She said I was "so English." English ways were 
 so superior to the American ways. I smiled, and said : 
 
 "I am a fresh importation." 
 
 She loved to converse on English history. Many hours I would 
 sit in her room and entertain her, till she became so accustomed to 
 me that she could hardly bear me ouf'of her sight. The family were 
 all more or less sick, so she had little society, and I gave her all my 
 spare time. She grew worse, so I gave up everything else to nurse her. 
 I spread a pallet on the floor, and stayed with her night and day. She 
 was a great sufferer, and this caused a degree of fretfulness; but I was 
 not nervous, as every one else seemed to be. I was told by Professor 
 
 P that I must have been born when nerves were not fashionable, 
 
 as I never complained of nervousness. The very close confinement 
 in tlie dark sick-room was telling on me however, and Miss Clarinda 
 insisted I should walk out with her sometimes to breathe the fresh air. 
 As the old lady grew worse, I could never leave her, night or day. I 
 had been sitting up with her all one night, and at dawn I noticed a 
 change come over her, and knew not what it was. I ran to the study 
 for Mr. Campbell. He came at once, and when he saw her face, he 
 said: 
 
 "This is death." 
 
 He raised her head on his arm, and she breathed out her spirit there 
 without a struggle. Old and full of years, she was laid to rest in the 
 neat little graveyard on the hillside. 
 
 The young, beautiful, bright Mrs. Ewing was prostrate on a sick- 
 bed, and not able to nurse her babe of a few days old, nor could a 
 nurse be found in all the country round to take charge of it. I offered 
 to take charge of the small, sickly piece of humanity till a nurse could 
 be found. From nursing the sick great-grandmother, I came to nurse 
 the sick great-grandchild. 
 
 Oh, how that sick young mother watched me the first time I dressed
 
 2S6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 her infant. Her large, wistful eyes never left me for a moment. I 
 was afraid to handle so small a creature, lest he should slip through 
 mv liands. I succeeded, however, in my task to the satisfaction of 
 the iK)or sick mother. I did not tell her that he was the first infant I 
 had ever dressed, and that I did it in fear and trembling. Mrs. Ewing 
 Avas drooping, Mr. Ewing was uneasy. He called a consultation of 
 doctors to examine the patient and give him an exact statement of her 
 case. Their conclusion was, that she had rapid consumption, and 
 would pass away ere two months. This death-knell rang through the 
 house. O how my heart sympathized with this stricken, smitten and 
 afflicted family! I could not realize that the lively, bright, black-eyed 
 Margaret was doomed to an early grave; but her days were numbered. 
 
 j^Ii-_ E said she must not die, and he would at once take her to a 
 
 warmer climate. He took her to Pittsburg to see some doctor ere he 
 took her to Cuba, but he was advised to take her home; and Mrs. 
 
 E wished to come home to die. When she returned, Miss Clarin- 
 
 da and myself undressed her and put her in her bed, from which she 
 never rose. In nine days her pure spirit left its clay tenement. I 
 was almost always by her bedside with her boy. She asked one day 
 if I knew that she was going to die? 
 
 "Yes," I said; and asked her if she were afraid? 
 
 "No; but if it were God's will I should wish to live. You know I 
 am young, and my husband loves me ; and my sweet babe, my father, 
 mother, brothers and sisters, I could wish to live for them; but God's 
 will be done. I may live but a few days, but I am ready," she said. 
 
 Her faith was unshaken. It was touchingly beautiful to hear that 
 young Christian, on the confines of the grave, talk so calmly of her 
 leaving her loved ones. At another time she said : 
 
 "I could leave this world without a trouble if you would promise 
 to be a mother to my babe." 
 
 This promise I could not make, for I did not know whether I should 
 be allowed to keep him. It grieved her that I could not conscientiously 
 make her the promise she so much desired ; it seemed to be her only 
 earthly desire now. I asked her why she did not give the dear baby 
 to her mother ? 
 
 "Oh," she said, "my poor dear mother has been so deeply afilicted 
 already, and when I am gone she will be plunged in despair and 
 deeper grief, and will be unable to attend to him." 
 
 On her last Lord's day on -earth, she expressed a wish to partake of 
 the Lord's Supper. The deacon brought and spread the emblems.
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. 287 
 
 He, her father, mother, husband and myself partook of the Supper 
 ■A'ith her. She said it would be her last privilege while here, and it 
 was. The scene in the death-chamber was the most solemn that I 
 ever had witnessed; it was also the most beautiful. It seemed to me 
 
 the very gate of heaven. Mrs. E was robed in pure white in the 
 
 midst of white draperies ; her pale cheeks had a deep rose tint on 
 each; her eyes were large and lustrous, and her hands were rever- 
 ently clasped on her bosom. She was beautiful as a dream, and as a 
 dream she soon faded away. When the others left, I took my seat by 
 her side with her babe on my lap. Her gaze rested long on her boy, 
 then she looked so pleadingly to me that I felt almost persuaded at 
 any risk to make her the promise; but I feared I could not fulfill it, 
 and so held back. Her mother came in and kneeled by her bed, and 
 
 Mrs. E began to talk about her boy and myself brokenly; but 
 
 was not understood. I understood the wistful look however, but 
 dared not do as my heart dictated. One by one the family came in; 
 a change came over her lovely face, a slight spasm, and her beautiful 
 features were composed in death. The sound of prayer and praise 
 had floated up from that room in the morning, but now a heartrending 
 wail of agony burst from the hearts of those present. Thus passed 
 away the young, beautiful and gifted wife of J. O. Ewing. She was 
 loving in her nature, and loved by all who knew her. She was laid 
 away in the pleasant retreat of the dead on the hillside. 
 
 I told Mr. E I would take entire charge of the child, and I 
 
 required no nurse. At that time there was no one who cared to dis- 
 pute the ownership with me, for all were plunged in grief. My "wee 
 pet lamb," as I ever called him, with his pure white transparent skin, 
 his blue spiritual eyes, looked more like a little cherub than a human 
 babe. I devoted my whole being, mind and body, to my charge; but 
 with all my care he followed his youthful mother in twelve months 
 from the time she fell asleep. We laid him beside his mother in the 
 pleasant retreat. 
 
 The great love and veneration that the students had for their Presi- 
 dent caused them to show me a great deal of attention. They were 
 all like brothers, vying with each other in kindness to me. We had 
 rides and walks and talks, and formed friendships then that have con- 
 tinued through all the years that have passed. Our paths diverged as 
 wide as the earth, but have converged again, and 1 am happy in my 
 friends. The students of B. C, and the young lady students of Pleas- 
 ant Hill Seminary (conducted by Mrs. McK , Mr. Campbell's
 
 288 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 sister), exchanged the small courtesies of life by having a musical or 
 literary entertainment, and visiting each other's society on such occa- 
 sions. One pleasant bright day a cheerful party in buggies and car- 
 riages, but mostly on horseback, started for the Pleasant Hill Seminary 
 to attend a soiree. I rode a splendid horse ; my escort was equally 
 well mounted, and we rode away in fine spirits. We had not gone far 
 when it began to rain. I laid the reins upon the horse's neck till I 
 could fasten a cloak at my neck, when a great grunting hog ran across 
 the road, frightened the horse, and off he bounded like an arrow. I 
 let the cloak go to catch the reins with both hands, but I could not 
 hold in the high-mettled, badly frightened creature. On we sped, 
 past horses and buggies ; my cloak dangled about his heels, and sev- 
 eral horsemen were in full chase, which fairly maddened my horse, and 
 on he ran, faster and faster. A turn in the road led to the ford of the 
 creek. I thought if I could turn his face toward it I might be saved; 
 but if he dashed straight on he must jump or tumble over a precipice, 
 and both be dashed to pieces. He made the plunge, and was at the 
 other side of the creek in a twinkling. I know not how I kept my 
 seat. A carriage was passing close to a tree and he could not pass 
 between, but he cleared the wheels at a bound and recrossed the 
 creek. I finally managed to get his head in a fence-corner just as he 
 was preparing himself for a leap over the high fence, which would no 
 doubt have been his last. My escort came up, with other gentlemen, 
 and laid hold of him and quieted him. I could not have held on 
 much longer. I could not cut my food or raise my hands to my head 
 for several days after my adventure. I was lifted into a carriage and 
 driven the remainder of the distance. I thanked God in my heart for 
 my preservation. 
 
 On another occasion, Mr. McGarvey was my escort to Pleasant Hill, 
 We were returning to Bethany in the afternoon. Before we had gone far, 
 it became suddenly dark, and a boding silence reigned; the darkening 
 clouds met over head, and I felt that a storm was at hand. We were anx. 
 ious to get home, and it was rather too far to turn back, so we pushed on. 
 The growling winds sent forth an ominous sound. All at once a sheet 
 of fire lit up our pathway, that had been obscured by the thickening dark- 
 ness, and a clap of thunder burst over our heads, and reverberated from 
 hillside to hillside all along the creek. The sound was prolonged in 
 one incessant roar. The blaze of the blue, forked lightning was ap- 
 palling. The rain fell in torrents. I had an umbrella, which I held 
 over our heads, but it was of litde use. Every flash of lightning that
 
 LIFE IX BETHANY. 289 
 
 came, and they came fierce and fast, lit up the surrounding gloom with 
 a glare that almost made the pulses of the heart stand still. Mr. 
 McGarvey asked me if I were afraid. I, in a very quiet tone, answered, 
 
 "No." He said: 
 
 "I am glad you are with me to-night; had it been any of the other 
 ladies, who are so nervous, I do not know what I should do; I cer- 
 tainly could not attend to the horse. It is a fearful night." 
 
 "Yes; but all is well," I said. 
 
 We were riding along a terrace on the face of a hill. The water was 
 streaming down the side of the cliff on one side of the road, rushing 
 across, and making our narrow road slippery, and then dashing down 
 over the cliff at the other side into the creek, which was greatly swollen. 
 We could not see each other, so thick was the darkness. Every step 
 we took, we were in danger of tumbling over the cliff; so we had to 
 stop till the lurid flame lit up our pathway for a few steps before us, 
 then we would go on, and again stop for another blaze. Once we 
 were on the very edge of a precipice; another step, and we would have 
 gone over. The crash of falling timber, the continuous roar of the 
 thunder, the hissing wind through the rustling trees, the rushing waters 
 of the swollen creek, made the night hideous. We sat in an open 
 buggy in the drenching rain, waiting for a gleam. As we sat in silence 
 listening to the war of elements, a new danger presented itself. We 
 had to cross the creek, but feared that it had risen so high, that we 
 might be swept away in attempting to cross, and it was still rising, and 
 we could not get along a step faster. Danger and death were all 
 around. 
 
 "What shall we do?" Mr. McG asked. 
 
 "Cross, if possible," I answered; but we had still to wait for light 
 to pierce the gloom. 
 
 We reached the creek at last, and plunged down into the water, and 
 then stood still for the flash to come. It came, and showed that the 
 water was up to the axle-tree of the buggy. Another gleam, and I gave 
 a cry, not for myself, but for the poor horse. A few inches in front of 
 the horse's throat was a sharp, pointed snag, and had he taken another 
 step in the dark, he would have been impaled. Mr. McGarvey gave 
 me the reins, jumped into the water, and moved the snag a litUe one 
 way, and the horse the other way, and led him across the rushing 
 waters. We landed safely near to IJethany House, with thankful hearts 
 
 for the preservation of our lives. Mr. McG helped me to alight, 
 
 19
 
 290 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and then he drove off to his boarding-house. I presented myself at 
 the old ])arlor door, where Mr. Campbell was sitting. He told me to 
 hurry to my room at once, and to give him an account of how we got 
 along in the storm in the morning. I told him how we managed to 
 travel by the light of the lightning, and the danger we had been in. 
 
 "It is wonderful how God does preserve his children," he said. 
 
 Mr. McGarvey was very popular with the Faculty of the College. 
 He was a good student, a good Christian, and very attentive and re- 
 spectful to the ladies. He was high-toned, unbending in his integrity, 
 and honorable in all his actions. We were excellent friends. He 
 came for me one evening to go to prayer-meeting. A goodly number 
 were present, and as Prof Pendleton and Dr. Richardson were not 
 there, it was thought that no one was able to conduct the meeting, and 
 Mr. McGarvey came to me, and said: 
 
 "We can have no meeting to-night." 
 
 "Why?" I said, looking round; "we have already a meeting." 
 
 "But," he said, "there is no one to conduct it." 
 
 I asked why they depended upon the professors to conduct prayer- 
 meeting. 
 
 "You are here, and you can conduct it." 
 
 "Why," he said, "I never conducted one, and I never spoke in pub- 
 lic in my life." 
 
 "Well, we are to have a prayer-meeting; that is what I came for. 
 You speak in your societies, and I have heard you sing, and let me ask 
 you, 'do you pray?'" 
 
 "Of course I do," said he. 
 
 "Well, then, if you can do no more than read Christ's Sermon on 
 the Mount, and sing, and offer a prayer, we shall not have come for 
 nothing." 
 
 He bravely took his stand at the table, and gave as his reason for 
 being there, that he had been requested to conduct the meeting. He 
 read the Sermon on the Mount; we sang a hymn; he prayed, and then 
 made some very beautiful and appropriate remarks. No stranger would 
 have suspected that that was his first attempt at conducting a religious 
 meeting. Mr. McGarvey is now one of our distinguished preachers, 
 3. professor in the College of the Bible, a teacher of preachers. 
 
 In a cottage by the creek lived an aged couple. They had a son 
 and a daughter, whom they wished to educate, and they had left their 
 home and come to live at Bethany, while the son attended college 
 there, and the daughter at Pleasant Hill Seminary. Miss Frances
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. 29 1 
 
 came home from school one day sick. I went to see her. I met her 
 father at the door; I asked him how she was. 
 
 "She is very low," he said. 
 
 I then asked if she was in danger. His mournful response was : 
 
 "For her there is no hope." 
 
 I was starded at this announcement; I was not prepared for it. I 
 was taken into the room where lay the slender form of the fair girl, 
 beautiful even in sickness. I watched the working of the nerves of ner 
 pretty face, and oh, how sad I felt, when I saw in it the convulsive 
 throes of death. I left the room. Her mother followed me, and 
 asked me if I would ask Mr. Campbell to allow them to bury their 
 only daughter in a secluded spot on top of a hill in the skirt of a beau- 
 tiful grove, a place she had selected herself for her last resting-place. 
 This brave old Christian lady spoke calmly about her daughter. It was 
 the calmness of a desolate heart. My heart wept for her, the grief- 
 stricken mother, as she was about to part with her darhng child. She 
 needed all her Christian philosophy to bear up under her heavy trial. 
 I had one more look at the sweet, young face, on which rested a sad, 
 still smile; but it soon faded like a blossom rudely torn from its parent 
 stem, nothing now left of her beauty but a memory. Her departure 
 was calm and peaceful. Next Lord's day was appointed for her funeral. 
 I went to the house of mourning, but did not enter; I sat on a log out- 
 side. Though it was winter, the sun shone out bright and warm, as on 
 a spring day. The trees, though stript of their foliage, looked grand 
 in their desolation; the ground had on her snowy mantle. All nature 
 was hushed; stillness reigned throughout. It was a solemn hour and 
 peaceful. My thoughts were all beyond the grave. While I thought of 
 death being conquered through him that loves us, a sweet and heavenly 
 sound arrested my attention. At first it was soft and low; then it rose 
 to a most triumphant peal ; it was like sounding a triumph over death 
 and the grave. And as they sang, I thought an angel whispered, "Tlie 
 maid is not dead, but sleepeth." The pall-bearers appeared, and put 
 the coffin on a wagon, and moved onward with solemn steps and slow. 
 A long procession followed. Mr. McGarvey joined me, and we fell 
 in, and followed the train as it wound round the base of a hill. We 
 conversed on the unf ertainty of life,_ and the certainty of death and 
 eternity. 
 
 The spot, where Miss Murphy had chosen to be laid, was a sweet, 
 romantic spot, but it was as lonely as it was lovely. A hymn was sung, 
 and prayer offered. After the earth closed over the beautiful remains,
 
 2p2 THE STORV OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 several of the party strolled to the adjoining hills, to enjoy the beau- 
 tiful winter scene that was spread out before us. I told Mr. McGar- 
 vey, as we walked along, that as soon as Miss Murphy came home, 
 she told her mother that she had come home to die, which distressed 
 her mother very much, and she tried to dissuade her from talking about 
 death. But the girl said : 
 
 "Mother, you will be sorry when I am gone, that you did not listen 
 to what I had to say. It is my last wish, mother, and listen to your 
 dying girl." 
 
 And the poor, heart-stricken mother did listen to the broken sen- 
 tences, and earnest tones of her dying child. Mr. McGarvey embodied 
 our conversation in a little poem, so I shall not repeat it, only tran- 
 scribe the poem. 
 
 HER LAST WISH. 
 
 "My mother, I'm going to leave you soon, 
 
 I feel that my hour has come ; 
 This couch I shall soon exchange for the tomb. 
 
 This world for my heavenly home. 
 My mother, I'd wish you to go with me, 
 
 To go with me hand in hand; 
 But soon, quite soon, I'm sure you'll be 
 
 Admitted to that bright land. 
 
 You know, dear mother, we've passed our days 
 
 In the shades of an humble life ; 
 Then bury me far from the public gaze 
 
 And the scenes of mortal strife. 
 The grove where oft with a pensive soul 
 
 The feeling I love the best, 
 All lonely at eve I have loved to rove, 
 
 Let that be my place of rest. 
 
 Amid its shades let them lay me down. 
 
 Their leaves let my covering be ; 
 For ever in life was their rustling sound. 
 
 The sweetest of music to me. 
 Mother, you often will wander there ' 
 
 To weep in the evening shade. 
 And guard that spot with a mother's care 
 
 Wliere your own dear daughter is laid," 
 
 They buried her there on a beautiful day 
 
 That winter had borrowed from spring. 
 And sang to her soul as it flitted away 
 
 A song that she loved to sing.
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. 293 
 
 The clods were frozen upon her grave 
 
 By the blast that blew next day; 
 But He who had died her soul to save 
 
 Had hurried her far away. 
 
 Dear Sister Davies: 
 
 It is usual to write the dedication in front of a piece, but as it is in this case 
 an after- thought, you will forgive me for violating the rule, and permit me to 
 acknowledge my indebtedness to you for all that is valuable in the foregoing 
 humble effort. You will remember the mournful occasion on which the facts 
 referred to occurred, as also the conversation in which I gained the information 
 and ideas from you, which I have endeavored to clothe in rhythmical language. 
 This little inscription will remind you of that day when, in a distant land, you" 
 recall the humble scenes in which you have acted here, and I fondly trust they 
 will prevent you from entirely forgetting many other very interesting conversa- 
 tions with which you have honored me. 
 
 Your sincerely devoted friend and brother, 
 
 February, 1850. J. W. McGarvey. 
 
 We had sad days at Bethany, but we had sunshiny ones too. We 
 had several wedding parties, which were very enjoyable. Professor 
 Loos was married to the beautiful Miss Rosetta Kerr; Mr. Joseph 
 Pendleton to Miss Margaret Ewing; Miss Sarah Ewing to Mr. Bush 
 (the Misses Ewing were granddaughters of Mr. Campbell), and Dr. 
 Poston to Annie Campbell (niece of Aunt Ellen). As soon as Mr. 
 Campbell had tied the knot and the wedding breakfast was over, a 
 bevy of us would accompany the happy couples to Wellsburg. Ac- 
 cording to the season, we had horses, buggies or sleighs. One 
 clear, cold frosty day, with deep snow on the ground, a wedding party 
 started from the Hibernia in sleighs. The horses neighed, and tossed 
 their heads, and jingled their bells at a fine rate. We were all com- 
 fortably wrapped in furs and rugs. As we pranced along over the 
 snow, the air was exhilarating, and I said to Mr. McG : 
 
 "This sleigh ride is perfectly delightful." 
 
 Mr. McG laughed, and said : "This is not a sleigh but a buggy." 
 
 "Well, the horse thinks he is drawing a sleigli, for he tosses his 
 head and jingles his bells just as the other horses are doing, and if he 
 does not know any better, he enjoys himself all the same, as I enjoyed 
 the sleigh ride, till I was told that I was in a buggy." 
 
 We had a pleasant day. 
 
 I greatly enjoyed the literary entertainments given by the students; 
 they were interesting and entertaining. Dr. Richardson and I'rofessor 
 Pendleton taught from the pulpit as well as Mr. Campbell. I felt
 
 294 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 that God was good to me for having placed me where I had such 
 jirivileges. I ccrtainl)' api)reciated them. 
 
 In the old parlor a pleasing picture was often seen. The patriarch, 
 Thos. Campbell, sat m his rocking-chair, with his silvery hair combed 
 back from his massive forehead and falling on his shoulders. At 
 times he sat perfectly still, his hands clasped before him, and his lips 
 moving as in prayer. He was nearly blind, very deaf, and had lost 
 his memory in great measurej except for divine things. It was one of 
 my privileges to read the Scripture to him daily for some time, and to 
 hear .him repeat hymns in great numbers by only reading the first line 
 to him. I was able to do many little services for him, for which I 
 had many a "Bless you, my daughter." He was the personification 
 of patient resignation. I loved to wait on the dear old saint. He 
 was courtly in his manners, and grateful for everything done for him. 
 
 I was confined to my room for several days in consequence of a fall 
 I had down a stair. Mr. Campbell came into my room one day, and 
 said : 
 
 "Here is something pretty for you." 
 
 And he handed me a beautiful bouquet, artistically arranged, and 
 swathed with blue ribbon, and a card, on which was written, "For 
 the Dove, with the compliments of J. D. Pickett." The sweet, beau- 
 tiful flowers amused and interested me much while I was a prisoner 
 in my own room. The memory of these flowers had an influence 
 with me many years after that time. 
 
 After Mrs. Ewing's death, Mrs. Campbell regained the lost 
 equilibrium of her mind, and she seemed a very different woman. 
 She took an interest in her household duties. The family had been 
 diminished; three had been buried, and three had been married. 
 Health and a measure of cheerfulness had returned to the house of 
 mourning. I felt that my work at Bethany was done. Mr. Campbell 
 had returned from Kentucky, where he had been traveling, and he 
 gave such a glowing description of what the brethren were doing at 
 Midway, I felt that I must do something too. We were told that an 
 orphan school was being built up, and orphans were being cared for. 
 I wished, while listening to him, that a way might be opened for me 
 to work for the orphans, and thereby do more work in the Lord's 
 vineyard then I was now doing. I told Mrs. Campbell I thought I 
 should like to go to Kentucky. She begged me not to leave them; 
 but I told her my work was done at Bethany, and as I had no wish to 
 be dependent, I desired to be where I could do most good.
 
 LIFE IN BETHANY. 295 
 
 "Well," she said, "if you will go, remember that Bethany is your 
 home, and come back when you are tired staying away. I shall never 
 forget your kindness to me and mine, nor am I the only one who 
 appreciates very highly your labors of love amongst us. Mr. Camp- 
 bell has told me that 'you were like a ministering angel sent by Provi- 
 dence to minister to our family in our deep affliction,' and he has 
 quoted Paul to me : 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby 
 some have entertained angels unawares.' On two different occasions 
 he said that you were truly a ministering angel sent to us. I thought 
 I might forget what my dear husband had said to me about you, and 
 I wrote it down in my diary; here it is, you can see it." 
 
 I did look, and saw her faithful record of what Mr. C had said 
 
 of me. I shed tears of gratitude to know that my labors of love were 
 appreciated.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 
 
 I WAS very sad when I left Bethany. I had taken root there among 
 scenes I loved well. I felt it very hard to part with the lovely Mrs. 
 Pendleton. She was then the reigning queen of Mr. Pendleton's home 
 and heart. He alone deserved the priceless gem. I little dreamed that 
 our parting was final; she died soon after. Several friends escorted 
 me to Wellsburg. We arrived just in time for Mr. McGarvey to put 
 me on board of the Brilliant. He had hardly left me when she 
 moved off. I ran to the guards, waved my hand to the two Miss 
 
 C 's, Professor Loos and Mr. McG . I had dropped my 
 
 handkerchief, but the captain who stood near gave me his to wave, 
 and I waved a long good-bye to those I left on shore. 
 
 At Cincinnati it rained heavily. I asked the captain where was the 
 best hotel at which to put up till the Kentucky boat should sail. He 
 said he would be pleased to have me breakfast with him, and remain 
 on board till the other steamer was ready to start. I was well attended 
 to, and in due time was transferred to the splendid steamer Telegraph. 
 I have a grateful remembrance of the captain and clerk of the Bril- 
 liant for their attentions. I thanked God for his care of me thus far 
 on my new, strange voyage. I had the undivided attention of the 
 captain of the Telegraph as long as I was on board. When he handed 
 me over to the care of another captain at the mouth of the Kentucky 
 River, he also handed me his card, and said he hoped we would meet 
 again. On the card was written, "Z, M. Sherley," the name of a 
 well-known Kentucky gentleman. He afterward introduced me to his 
 family. His sisters were elegant, interesting. Christian ladies, at 
 whose homes I was ever after handsomely entertained. 
 
 One of my particular friends at Bethany, whom I have not named, 
 in whose confidence I was, and whose lady-love and myself had cor- 
 responded ere he left Bethany, was now married, and living at the 
 beautiful little town of Georgetown. He was pastor of the Christian 
 Church, and principal of a young ladies' school. They had expected 
 ime, and I was cordially welcomed by them both. Many ladies called 
 
 (296)
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 297 
 
 upon me, and told me that I was well known to them. Mrs. Dr. 
 Keene, an elegant old lady, with polished manners and beautiful face, 
 but better than all, a Christian, called to see me, paid me great atten- 
 tion, and gave me a party, where I met some of the best people of the 
 place. She drov'e me out often to show me the beauties of the sur- 
 rounding country. Every place was beautiful, and every person 
 pleasant. Mrs. Keene did much to make my sojourn at Georgetown 
 delightful. I met at her house the charming Misses Hannah, and they 
 continue to charm me with their high-toned principles and pleasant 
 manners. I tilso met General Flournouy, who was a highly cultured 
 man, a most enthusiastic ornithologist, and very entertaining. 
 
 I formed a warm and abiding friendship for Mr. and Mrs. H. Graves 
 and their family. They had a truly Christian household. I was flooded 
 with questions concerning Mr. Campbell's imprisonment. Sympathy 
 for him in his persecution was wide-spread. Amongst others, two 
 veteran soldiers of the cross called to see me, John T. Johnson and 
 Walter Scott. We talked on various subjects, but wound up on the 
 Orphan School at Midway, and its interests. They proposed to take 
 me to see the school; so a day was appointed, and they drove me to 
 
 Dr. Pinkerton's, at Midway. There I met the Dr. P and his wife, 
 
 and Mr. James Ware Parrish and his wife. We all went to the school, 
 where I had a delightful visit with these truly noble Christian ladies 
 and gentlemen. Mr. Parrish was a farmer. He was a man of culture 
 and refined feelings, and courteous in his manners. He lived a short 
 distance from Midway. He was a man of great personal influence, 
 loved and trusted by all. He was a philanthropist, and in his fertile 
 brain and warm, large heart, the idea arose of an Orphan School. He 
 and Dr. Pinkerton consulted and discussed, and the Orphan School 
 was founded. The idea was laughed at by some, but encouraged by 
 others. It was thought poor orphans in Kentucky could not be found 
 to fill the school. But nothing daunted, the noble founder went on 
 with his work, collected money to build part of the house, gathered up 
 about twenty children of various sizes to occupy it, and Mr. Dawson, 
 a Christian gentleman, installed as principal, Mrs. Dawson as matron. 
 They had it chartered with a Board of Trustees. Mr. Parrish traveled 
 far and near to collect money, to place the school on a permanent foun- 
 dation. He was a most successful financial agent, and he set the ex- 
 ample of liberality. He was a noble, enthusiastic worker for this 
 institution all the days of his life, and to-day it stands a monimicnt to 
 his memory, as also to that of his co-laborer, Dr. Pinkerton, who
 
 2qS the story of an earnest life. 
 
 preached for the church at Midway, and was a faithful ally of Brother 
 Farrish. Mrs. Parrish was most attractive; she was very beautiful, 
 o-cnlle in her manners, and a self-denying co-worker with her noble 
 husband. She reminded me much of the lovely Mrs. Pendleton. We 
 seemed to love each other on first sight. Mrs. Pmkerton, kind and 
 hospitable, gave me a warm welcome. These whole-souled workers in 
 the ci-lorious cause cast a halo of love around me, so that I felt as if in 
 a pure and healthful atmosphere. I was happy in their love. 
 
 Of all those who made my first visit to Midway a delight, who are 
 now to be found on earth ? Who of those earnest-heartAi Christians, 
 those noble specimens of humanity, who took me to their hearts and 
 homes the first time we met? All are gone, not one left. They fin- 
 ished their life work, and were called to their reward. 
 
 I was deeply interested in the Orphan School ; my sympathies were 
 entirely enlisted in the motherless children. They had many kind 
 friends and patrons, but I thought some one was needed to give her 
 whole time to their care besides the principal and matron. I thought 
 I could fill a niche in the school, and I, therefore, offered my services, 
 which were gladly accepted. The trustees were delighted to have an- 
 other join the noble corps of workers, who were undertaking a great 
 and glorious work. I undertook an arduous duty, -but my heart was 
 in it. I prayed to my heavenly Father to give me knowledge and 
 strength to perform my part well. I told Mr. Campbell, when he 
 visited Kentucky, shortly after I came to it, that I was afraid I had 
 taken too much upon myself,' but that my heart was in the Orphan 
 School. He said to me : 
 
 "Attempt great things, expect great things, and great things will 
 follow." 
 
 I was duly installed in my new sphere as associate principal and 
 assistant matron. The school was then in its infancy; but it has since 
 grown from being a mere Orphan Asylum, to be a power of good in the 
 land. The house was occupied, but not furnished; the girls slept on 
 straw mattresses; the floors were uncarpeted; the children had to be 
 clothed and fed. This was uphill work for the foster parents of the 
 institution; but they had large and liberal hearts devoted to the work 
 of providing for the orphans, and they went nobly forward. I looked 
 round, and thought I could help them outside of my every day duties. 
 I had been told by many friends that I belonged to the Reformation. 
 Every member had a claim in me ; their hearts and homes were open 
 to me, and I should be cared for as long as I lived. They said they
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 299 
 
 claimed me for their own before they saw me. I thanked God and 
 them for his and their loving kindness. I told them that I owed it to 
 JNIr. Campbell, that I had so many friends. I was told that through 
 Mr. Campbell I might have gained friends, but on my own account I 
 retained my friends. 
 
 "We all loved you for what you did for him wdien in your country. 
 Now you have come amongst us; we love you for yourself." 
 
 Everywhere my heart was touched with the many expressions of love 
 and kind feeling toward me. In fact, I was surrounded on all sides 
 by ".varm-hearted, enthusiastic friends. The love and protection, the 
 friendship and freedom, that I enjoyed, made m.e feel that I was at 
 home, and I reciprocated every feeling expressed for me. I was happy, 
 and loved everybody. I valued my popularity, for I thought I might 
 make use of it for the benefit of the Orphan School. At vacation time, 
 or any other time, when I was visiting, I always introduced the or- 
 phans' necessities to my lady friends. I told them the gentlemen had 
 to pay for the building, and raise an endowment fund, and we ought 
 to help them clothe the children, and furnish the house more comfort- 
 ably. Every friend responded to my appeal. I told them, when they 
 were buying their half-yearly supply of linseys, cottons, prints, flannels, 
 or any other material for clothing, to buy a little more than was needed, 
 and cut economically, and then hand over the remnants to me; and 
 they sent from remnants up to rolls of all kinds of good material for 
 clothing. I told them, when they were spinning yarn for their servants, 
 to spin a litde more than they needed, for we had litde feet that needed 
 litde hose, and from sending a little yarn, they began to knit hose for 
 the litde feet. I then got money to buy cotton mattresses and carpet- 
 ing for the floors. Children gave me money to buy a piano. The 
 large girls had to make all their own clothes and those of the smaller 
 ones; this took much of their time from school. To enable the girls 
 to have more time to study, I cut out all their clothes, and invited all 
 my lady friends around the neighborhood to come and sew one day, 
 and this they willingly did. There were no sewing machines in diose 
 days, but willing hands did all the work. And thus the pet nursling 
 was cared for in its infancy. The institution has outgrown all these 
 wants long ago. Those were the days of small things, but they were 
 pleasant days. The girls thus helped had a good deal of time on their 
 hands, and to fill up their time, I taught them fancy work. So much 
 importance as now was not then given to their studies. The fancy 
 work, from a small beginning, grew so as to bring a little fund (i sold
 
 300 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 their work) for the girls, that bought them trunks and extra clothing 
 when they left the school. From these small beginnings has grown an 
 institution that is a blessing to this country, and one of its beneficiaries 
 is benefiting others in a far off land with her husband, who is an evan- 
 gelist in Australia. 
 
 I had the pleasure of naming our school "Mount Hope," for many 
 hopes cluster around it. The widow who had one or two ori)han 
 children at school, hoped they might be good and obedient to the pow- 
 ers that were over them, she hoped they would be studious and turn 
 out well, and better their condition by having a good education. The 
 trustees and friends of the school hoped that their grand philanthropic 
 scheme would be a success. Had. James Ware Parrish lived to this 
 day, how his heart would beat with joy to see all his hopes realized. 
 
 On a certain Lord's day, after church service, Dr. Pinkerton re- 
 quested the congregation to wait a few minutes. All were wondering 
 why. Presently Mr. Parrish, with a tall, well-dressed gentleman, 
 walked down the aisle, and made a signal for me to go to him. All 
 eyes followed Mr. Parrish when he came to where I sat, and a very 
 distinct hum was heard, 
 
 "Oh! Sister Eliza is going to be married!" 
 
 Mr. Parrish put out his hand for me to go with him, but I seemed 
 riveted to the spot; I could not move. All eyes were on me, but 
 there I sat. One of the orphan girls who sat by me rose and v/ent 
 
 with Mr. P to the front, and was there married to Mr. W , a 
 
 young lawyer, to the great amazement of all present who were not of 
 the family. No one dreamed of one of the orphan girls being mar- 
 ried before her school days were done; but so it was. A few friends 
 
 were invited to partake of the wedding^ dinner, after which Mr. W 
 
 drove off with his young bride in a carriage drawn by mules to his 
 home. They were a very happy couple. 
 
 One night I had seen all the girls in bed, and the household as I 
 thought fast locked in slumber, but I still sat and read till a late hour. 
 I was a little starded in the stillness to hear a footfall on the front 
 stairs leading to the hall-door. I exclaimed mentally, "What can this 
 mean? Robbers? But I shall see." I rose and opened wide my 
 door, and my light fell full on the face of one of the girls crouching, 
 trying to hide herself and a bundle she carried in her hand. She had 
 been making for the front-door to effect her escape from school. I 
 took her by the hand and led her unresistingly into my room, and
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 3OI 
 
 quietly locked the door. I then in a kindly tone asked the foolish 
 girl what she was doing at that time of night on the front stair ? 
 
 "I was going to run away from school," she answered, in a defiant 
 tone; "I do not wish to remain here where I have been badly treated 
 and unjustly punished, and I determined to run away." 
 
 Both the matron and the girl had high, unyielding tempers. A 
 serious misunderstanding had arisen between them, and the affair 
 would have ended unpleasantly for all parties had not the foolish girl's 
 plans been broken up just in time. She had .been unjustly punished, 
 and I sympathized with her; but I told her that that was no excuse 
 for her undutiful conduct; her ingratitude. 
 
 "What do you mean, Sister EUza, by saying undutiful, ingratitude?" 
 her eyes flashing at the same time. 
 
 I told her that she was undutiful to the matron in not doing willingly 
 what she was told to do. Obedience was her duty, and she disobeyed. 
 Ungrateful to the trustees who clothed, fed and educated her— a poor 
 return for their kindness, to run away from their protecting care, and 
 grieve them by bringing discredit upon the school which sheltered her, 
 and bringing disgrace upon herself. 
 
 "You say you were wrongfully treated. What then? Will your 
 wrong-doing right matters?" 
 
 She seemed deeply moved, and exclaimed: "Oh, Sister Eliza, what 
 must I do? I have done wrong to try to steal away." 
 
 ' 'You must submit to the matron, and ask her forgiveness for your 
 disobedience," I answered. 
 
 "Submit to Mrs. , who wronged me? Never! I can not do 
 
 it," said the fiery-spirited girl. 
 
 "Yes you can," said I. "You know the Bible tells you your whole 
 duty in every relation of life; it also says, 'If you are punished for 
 your faults and take it patiently, what thanks have ye?' But if you 
 are punished or buffeted wrongfully for what you have not done, and 
 take the wrong punishment patiently, then are you acting as becomes 
 a Christian girl. Have you done this?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, no," sobbed she, perfectly subdued and penitent; "but I shall 
 do as you tell me." 
 
 I kept her in my room till morning. A little breeze sprang up 
 
 between the two high tempers, but M submitted, begged pardon, 
 
 was forgiven, and peace was restored and continued. M tried 
 
 hard to curb her unruly temper. She was obedient, studious, obliging 
 and grateful. She read the valedictory at graduating, and left school
 
 302 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 beloved by all. No one ever knew of the little midnight scene in 
 which we acted. She became a teacher and was much respected ; then 
 she married. I never saw her again, but she wrote to me most affec- 
 tionately, and in allusion to the past, she said : 
 
 "Dear Sister Eliza, what I am you have made me." 
 
 The mother of these girls many years afterward thanked me, with 
 tears in her eyes, for saving her girls from themselves. 
 
 My old friend Walter Scott came to Midway to lecture in the inter- 
 ests of the American Bible Union. I had been interested enough in 
 the movement to wish it a success, but had no idea that I could do 
 anything for it. However, my feelings were changed. I was made 
 to feel that I could help, and must help; but how? Thirty dollars 
 made one a life member; one hundred dollars, a life director. I had 
 only ten dollars I was saving for a bonnet. I had worn my old one 
 two seasons, and it was very shabby, and what was ten dollars to 
 them? But three women with ten dollars each could make a Hfe 
 member among them. I asked two friends to join me to make Dr. 
 Pinkerton, our pastor, a life member; they consented very readily. 
 I thought others might give as readily, and I asked and received till I 
 was more than able to make the doctor a director. I kept on asking, 
 and was enabled to make Mr. Dawson a life director also. The sisters 
 of Midway Church alone did this good work. Mr. Scott was our 
 guest at Mount Hope. When all the lights were out upstairs, I went 
 up to ascertain that all was well. The rooms were dark, but the girls 
 knew who was tucking the bed-clothes about them. A hand was put 
 out from under a cover and laid on mine, and a whisper, 
 
 "Sister Eliza, what did Mr. Scott mean by saying they wished to 
 send the Bible to foreign nations; and that we must send it." 
 
 I explained the whole of the lecture to the girls. Several who had 
 not heard it came to hear me. I told them they were so much better 
 off than the heathen; they had Bibles and books in abundance, and had 
 everything else that was needful provided for them. The heathen had 
 not the Bible, and we had a great many, and we who were so well off 
 must send the Bible to those who had none. 
 
 "Sister Eliza," said one of the poor orphans, "you have given the 
 price of your bonnet, and I feel that I must give something too. Will 
 Mr. Scott take a three-cent piece ? that is all I have. I have kept it 
 ever since I came to school, but now it must help to buy Bibles for 
 the heathen." 
 
 Another girl gave me a five-cent piece, her mother's parting gift.
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN" SCHOOL. 
 
 303 
 
 I related to them the story of the widow's mite, and the ^Master's 
 approval. We were in full sympathy on the subject discussed. Next 
 morning I presented my two pieces of silver — value, eight cents — to 
 Mr. Scott. 
 
 "Here," said I, "is a voluntary offering from two orphan children, 
 who feel themselves so much richer than the heathen that they give this, 
 their all of money, to help buy Bibles for those far away. Will you 
 accept or reject?" 
 
 "Reject! Sister Eliza," said the enthusiastic old man. "I must not 
 disgrace my Master; for he did not despise a smaller sum. I shall ac- 
 cept it, and thank God and you for putting it into these dear children's 
 hearts to give their all to the Lord. Every cent of this shall bring to 
 the American Bible Union hundreds of dollars." 
 
 Once we had a high-day and holiday at the orphan school. We 
 had a grand picnic in a beautiful grove near by, at which Gov. Crit- 
 tenden made a most eloquent speech to an immense crowd in behalf 
 of the school. Other gentlemen made speeches, and we had vocal 
 and instrumental music. The woods rang with melody. The friends 
 around Midway had prepared a plentiful repast, to which all were 
 invited. One of the mounted marshals conducted me, with the 
 school, when we left the platform, back to Mount Hope. Soon after, 
 a carriage drove up to the school, in which were Mr. and Mrs. James 
 Fall, and Mrs. Gov. Crittenden. I cha})eroned them over the prem- 
 ises, and tried to interest Mrs. C in the school. Mrs. C sa'd 
 
 the governor wished to become better acquainted with me. I was 
 about to refuse the invitation to dine with them, as I had not changed 
 my dress, when Mr. Fall came behind me and lifted me into the car- 
 riage, and carried me off just as I was, and I spent a most delightful 
 evening with them. The governor was elegant and entertaining, his 
 wife beautiful and charming. I had pressing invitations to visit them 
 at Frankfort. Mr. Parrish told me as he took me home that night he 
 had been delighted to hear me plead so earnestly for the orphans in 
 the midst of my own enjoyment. I told him the greatest enjoyment 
 I had was to have an opportunity to do so. 
 
 "Fallen as sets the sun at eve, to rise in splendor where her kindred 
 luminaries shine, their heaven of bless to share." The beautiful, tlie 
 gifted Clarinda (Mrs. Pendleton) had been called away to join her 
 sainted sisters. She was the bright star of the social circle in which 
 she moved. In her own happy lot she did not forget the "Stranger's 
 heart." Another friend gone. "Friend after friend departs."
 
 304 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Tvlrs. James W. Parrish, gentle and beautiful, was called away to join 
 her sisters. Her words were few, but she was a firm and true friend. 
 Her beauty and sweet disposition were akin to Mrs. Pendleton's. She 
 was the center of a happy circle, but death claimed her as his own. 
 I thought, as I smoothed her glossy, wavy black hair over her broad, 
 white brow, her long curling lashes, as they lay on her cheek, and her 
 sweet, smiling Hps, she was' too beautiful to hide away in the grave. 
 I could not realize that the lovely image was only clay. It was hard 
 to let her go. Mrs. Smith, her only living sister, asked if I could 
 transfer the love I bore to Mary to her. I looked into her sad eyes, 
 and threw my arms round her neck, and said, 
 
 "Yes;" and kissed her, and loved her ever after as long as she lived. 
 
 At this time my mother's letters were harsh. They added sorrow 
 on sorrow, but my sorrow never had vent. As an eolian harp, when 
 the wind sweeps the strings, sends forth a wailing sound, so my heart, 
 when the chords were too rudely touched, sent up a wail or moan to 
 the ear of God, but to his alone. My mother well knew that I carried 
 a sorrow which cast a dark shadow over all my inner life. No joys 
 could brighten that gloom, and it was so far down in the deep recesses 
 of my heart, that no one could see it. I bore my own burden. To 
 tell my grief would not have brought relief, and giving vent to my sor- 
 row would not have brought comfort. My mother wrote for me to go 
 back to New South Wales, for he who sought my life would no more 
 give me trouble. She said I owed a duty to her, and my religion 
 ought to teach me better than to disobey her. Time was, when I would 
 gladly have obeyed my mother; but that time was over and past. I 
 could not conscientiously obey her behests. Her commands were im- 
 perious and unreasonable. I always wrote to her affectionately, for I 
 loved my mother, and prayed for her constantly. I begged her to be 
 reconciled to my living in America, where I was happy in the enjoy- 
 ment of Christian privileges and Christian society. I had left the world 
 behind, and I had no desire to go back to it again. I said to her on 
 one occasion: 
 
 "I love you, dear mother, more than I can tell, but I love my Savior 
 more. If you loved him, you would not be bitter against me. Come 
 to him, for he died for you, that you might live happy here and here- 
 after. I am truly glad to know that I am free. Free ! What a load 
 is lifted off my spirit; freedom lives, and tyranny is dead. The load 
 is lifted, but I can not forget, or I might shout for joy; this I can not 
 do. I accept my freedom with a thankful heart. The misery of my
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 305 
 
 life has been so great, that freedom from it is a great boon. Now I 
 can enjoy my religious privileges without alloy. Dear mother, let us 
 both prepare for heaven and eternity." 
 
 Some months after sending my last letter to her, I received a letter 
 from the Rev. Dr. McGarvey, a Presbyterian clergyman, saying: 
 
 "Your letter was received a few weeks ago. We are all glad to hear 
 that you are so well and happy. Your remarks upon your mother's 
 letter were read. You knew your mother's temper, and made allow- 
 ances for it. I am sorry to inform you that she is now no more." 
 
 Merciful Father! I cried, and the letter fell from my hands. I threw 
 mj-self on the bed, and in a perfect agony of doubt and terror called 
 upon my heavenly Father, to tell me what new thing this was that had 
 happened to me. My poor, dear mother gone? where? I had no 
 hope for her soul, if she died as she had lived. I was distracted; I 
 was troubled, and could not be comforted. I did not mourn as one 
 who had hope; I did not mourn because we had been separated in 
 time. God only knew the agony of my mourning, for three weary 
 weeks, dreary and dark to me. I could not brook an eternal separa- 
 tion from my dear mother. The thought was horrible. My heart was 
 tired, and my strength was very low. The night was dark and gloomy 
 outside; the wind moaned, and my spirit kept company. As I sat in 
 sad silence by my fire, I asked God why my nature, so sensitive, so 
 full of feeling, was tried so sorely. Why was I made to suffer and to 
 weep? I thought I heard a voice, and I was starded at the sound in 
 my ear. "Be still, and know that I am God," echoed through my 
 brain. My questioning God came to an end. I took the letter that I 
 had dropped three weeks ago; I had read only the first startling an- 
 nouncement. I now read with a subdued spirit. 
 
 "She departed this life in May. She bore her sufferings with a great 
 resignation to the Divine Will. * * * I attended her to the last, 
 and was greatly pleased with her meekness and penitence and faith, 
 which I think may prove a means of acceptance with God. She died 
 in the hope of a joyous resurrection. * * * If we depart as calmly 
 as she did, and as peacefully, it will be a blessed termination to our 
 troubled lives." 
 
 God does not delight in the death of a sinner, and as there is joy in 
 heaven over one sinner who repents, I left my mother in the hands of 
 him who died to save her, hoping to meet her in heaven. 
 
 Being, as I have said, humanity's servant, I was often called to sit 
 up all night with sick in the neighborhood. I was always pleased to
 
 2o6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 nurse the sick, or sit up with them, but I never allowed anything to 
 interfere with my home duties. I was asked once why I was always 
 ready to nurse the sick; was it because I was a good nurse? "No; 
 but I wish to do to others just what I wish to be done to me when my 
 hour of weakness comes." 
 
 A Mrs. Frazer, who lived at the foot of Mt. Hope, a quiet and gen- 
 tle lady, took sick, and was ill a long time. Her Httle girl was but a 
 few months old, and was greatly neglected, as the mother was not able 
 to attend to her as she had done. I went to see them one day, not 
 
 knowing of Mrs. F being sick. I took in the situation at once, 
 
 and afterward ran down morning and evening, did what I could for the 
 mother, and washed, dressed, fed, and otherwise attended to the little 
 one. Mrs. F would often say : 
 
 "Oh, how can I ever pay you for you kindness to me and my baby." 
 
 I would laugh, and say: "I am not working for pay. Who knows, 
 but this little lady will pay me some day in kind, and do for me what 
 I can not do for myself." 
 
 The sick mother would smile, and say, "God bless you." 
 
 Time passed, and memory slept. I had visited foreign lands, and 
 had returned to America. I met with an accident, which laid me up 
 for many months. When convalescent, but very lame and helpless, I 
 was on a visit to a friend, whose daughter was waiting on me very 
 kindly one morning, when memory awoke. I called to Miss Mary, 
 
 ' 'You are paying a debt that you incurred when you were a wee 
 helpless thing. I was about to overwhelm you with thanks, but I shall 
 refrain." 
 
 This was Miss M. F , the helpless babe whom I had nursed, who 
 
 was now nursing me. "Whatsoever measure you mete, it shall be 
 measured to you again." 
 
 I was with Mr. Campbell at a State meeting at Lexington, Kentucky. 
 Ere we parted, I asked him to have me carried to Bethany, and laid 
 as near as possible to those I loved, when I died. This he promised 
 to do, if I died in America. 
 
 "But why talk of dying? You must try to live, and be happy, and 
 make others happy. You are young and healthy, and are being use- 
 ful, and you have much to do in this world yet." 
 
 Was this a prophecy? I had felt ill for some time, but had struggled 
 against sickness. I was low in spirits, and thought more about death 
 than life. 
 
 I returned to Mount Hope and resumed my duties. I cut out all
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 307 
 
 the winter clothing, cloaks, hoods, etc., for all the girls. The sisters 
 of the church were to make them up on a certain day ; but ere the 
 busy day came, which had always been a happy day at the school, 
 I was tossing on a bed of pain. Typhoid pneumonia had laid me 
 low, and it kept me in bed for seven weeks. I was medicated and 
 tortured with blisters and baths of pepper and whisky, and hot bricks 
 and bottles of hot water, until the doctors said I was proof against 
 medicine and Spanish flies, and they quit prescribing for me. They 
 had done all they could, and they gave me up to die. The room was 
 darkened, and the night watchers appointed to sit up with me were 
 asleep. The whole house was hushed. At midnight I thought I saw 
 a misty light over the foot of my bed, faint at first, but it grew bright- 
 er. I looked at it steadily, and saw two beautiful heads and faces 
 looking out from the misty light. My faint pulse quickened with 
 joy. I smiled, and tried to put out my hand, but I was motion- 
 less; and I cried, "Dear Miss Clarinda and dear Mary, you have come 
 for me and I am ready; wait just a little while and I shall go with you." 
 But they did not wait long. The remembrance of those heavenly 
 faces lingers with me still. My cry of joy awoke the sleepers. I 
 calmed their fears, and told them to sleep again; I wanted nothing. 
 I asked myself that night if I were afraid to die? JNo; I had no fear 
 of death. I tried to stretch myself out as if in my winding-sheet. I 
 fancied myself in my coffin, screwed down, and lowered into the 
 gloomy darkness of the grave. Did I feel afraid ? No ; I had no 
 fear. My body only would be put away ; my spirit would be with 
 those two beautiful beings who had appeared to me. I asked myself 
 if I had peace with myself? Yes, was the answer. I had tried to 
 live a harmless, useful life. Was I at peace with the world? Yes; 
 for I had no unkind feeling for any one in it. I freely forgave all who 
 had ever injured me. Was I at peace with God? Here I paused, to 
 think of all the good deeds I had done, but I could not think of any. 
 I thought of all my badness, my rebellious feelings and wicked 
 thoughts. Oh, what a mountain of sin hid God from my view. I 
 had nothing to commend me to him; nothing. I just laid all my 
 good and bad deeds at the foot of the Cross, and laid myself close to 
 it, and asked Christ to wash me clean in his blood, and present my 
 purified spirit to his Father. In Christ I had peace with God. Oh, 
 how precious was Christ to me in tliat hour! I thought I had always 
 loved him; but as my naked soul was about to enter the presence of 
 its Creator, he was inexpressibly precious. I clung to him, and longed
 
 2oS THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 to be with him. The world and all its concerns had vanished out of 
 my life. I had no home in it. Everything had grown dark. Heaven 
 alone looked bright, and I felt happy at the near prospect of soon being 
 at home. My friends were all kind; they came to see me; that was 
 all they could do. I received a sweet little note from one of my 
 friends after she had been to take a last farewell of me. It ran thus : 
 
 Dear Sister Eliza: 
 
 I have thought much of you since yesterday evening. Some expressions fell from 
 your lips that have caused me to reflect much. You said you had no home here, 
 and that this world seemed dark to you when compared to the brighter one 
 above ; or as I understood you, that you could look forward to the change that 
 awaited you (in common with us all) without fear or alarm, never thinking of the 
 grave, but only thinking of and contemplating the joys that were in reservation 
 for the faithful. I could desire no greater earthly bliss than just such a state of 
 mind. And although I might be homeless, and even friendless, I would account 
 myself most happy in being thus enabled by the grace of God to say, "not my 
 will, but thine, O Lord, be done." I have heard persons talk thus when in 
 health, and looking at death as being far removed from them; I have also heard 
 them when worn by disease, or when some gr'^at calamity had befallen them; 
 but rarely have I heard such sentiments uttered calmly and composedly under 
 circumstances when they could realize that they MUST taste of death, and that 
 perhaps at no distant day. I fear I shall never attain to such an eminent degree of 
 piety; but still I hope, the Lord being my helper. A very few words sometimes, 
 spoken by one we know is given to serious meditation, will be of more real value 
 to us than volumes written. I felt after visiting your sick-bed that my time had 
 not been unprofitably spent, although I had it not in my power to administer to 
 you in any way. I there learned a lesson I trust I shall never forget: perfect 
 resignation to God's will and patience under all our afflictions. May you soon 
 be restored to health and usefulness is my prayer. Farewell. 
 
 Mary M. Parrish. 
 
 It was Mrs. Richard Parrish (sister-in-law to Mr. James Parrish) 
 whose hand traced the above lines. The heart that dictated and the 
 hand that traced them lie pulseless and cold in the silent tomb, and I 
 have lived to transcribe them. The ways of God are mysterious, and 
 past finding out. My poor emaciated frame had rest from being ex- 
 perimented upon by the doctors. For days my life hung by a hair; 
 but the doctors said that nature was doing quietly, slowly, but surely, 
 the work of healing, unassisted by them. I was pronounced out of 
 danger ; they thought I would get well. Sad news for me ; I had no 
 desire to get well. I did not wish to live. I feared to come back to 
 the world. I feared to offend my Savior by my rebellious thoughts 
 and questionings. I would far rather go home and be safe with him. 
 beyond the reach of sin.
 
 AT THE KENTUCKY FEMALE ORPHAN SCHOOL. 309 
 
 "Oh," I cried, "how hard it is to live; how much easier it is to 
 die." 
 
 I wept in spirit at the dark prospect of coming back again to the 
 world. This was not submission. After being pronounced out of 
 immediate danger of dying, my first act was to rebel. I prayed to 
 God to make me willing to live, if he so willed it. I did not wish to 
 rebel, but I was very sad. I had a long convalescence. Miss Lummie 
 Davis brought me a beautiful bouquet one day. My thoughts grew 
 tender as I looked on the sweet silent flowers. They reminded me of 
 God's goodness in beautifying earth for man's enjoyment. He could 
 have made trees, shrubs, and all kinds of vegetables useful for man, 
 to grow without a single flower. But God wished to give his creatures 
 pleasure; so he made the beautiful flowers. How I caressed these 
 little earth gems; they brought me pleasure, they brought me hope. I 
 kissed the dainty buds, and thanked God for flov/ers. Slowly I came 
 back to life and health. Some months after I rose from my sick-bed, 
 I was trying to run up-stairs as of yore, but my limbs refused to do their 
 duty. My knees would shake and tremble, and I would sit down on 
 the stair and wonder if I could get strong again. My flying leaps 
 up and down stairs seemed to be at an end. 
 
 Mrs. Gen. Keene, daughter-in-law to Mrs. Dr. Keene of George- 
 town, invited me to spend a winter with them on their plantation in 
 Louisiana, where I should regain my strength ; other inducements were 
 offered. The invitation was most opportune. My heart was in the 
 orphan school, but I had no strength to perform my duties. In ac- 
 cepting Mrs. Keene's invitation, besides the inducements she offered, 
 I greatly desired strength if I had to live. I made preparations to 
 leave the orphan school for a time, and take a journey to a part of the 
 States which always had a fascination for me. So in the fall of 1853 
 I took my departure for new scenes and associations.
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IN THE SOUTH, 
 
 En route to the South, we remained a few days at the elegant resi- 
 dence of Dr. and Mrs. EUiotte (sister and brother-in-law of Gen. 
 Keene), at Louisville. Captain Sherley and his sisters came to see me. 
 Dr. Theodore Bell and his daughter also came to see me. The doctor 
 took a great interest in me, and called me his Australian sister. This 
 my first visit to Louisville was made very pleasant by seeing so many 
 friends, each more kind than the other. 
 
 At Portland we went on board the floating palace Shotwell. We 
 had on board a large crowd of wealthy, fashionable people — planters 
 and their families. I tried to study the faces I saw, and write a men- 
 tal character of each. Meantime, I had a book in my hand, which I 
 neglected to read. I was so absorbed in my new study that I fre- 
 quently held it upside down, to my own and others' amusement. 
 Dancing, cards and flirtation were the vogue on board. As Bishop 
 Otey, of the Episcopal Church, did not dance, we sometimes met on 
 the guards and had a chat. One day he asked me what book inter- 
 ested me so. I handed him "Cowper's Task." He asked me if I 
 belonged to the church. I told him yes, but not to the Episcopal 
 Church. 
 
 "To what denomination do you belong?" 
 
 ''To the Christian Church," I replied. 
 
 The bishop had been writing in my book while we were talking. 
 On the fly-leaf was written his autograph, the name of the boat, and 
 date, with a verse of poetry. He was a very pleasant gentleman. 
 When we reached Cairo, I looked and saw the wide and winding 
 Mississippi lying before me. How grand I thought it looked; but death 
 lurked beneath its surface, in the shape of fang-like snags. A large 
 boat lay beneath its waters, with its chimneys standing above as bea- 
 cons to warn others. It had been snagged and sunk, and several 
 lives lost a few days before. It is difficult to realize, while sitting in 
 the luxurious saloon, sailing so smoothly, that danger lurks near. 
 How necessary to have an unseen arm to protect us. We ran aground 
 on several sand-banks, and had a narrow escape from an explosion. 
 
 (310)
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IX THE SOUTH. 3II 
 
 We, however, landed safely at Gen. Keene's plantation. Everything 
 on a cotton plantation was new and strange to me, and of course in- 
 terested me much. My first night I slept in a room which had evi- 
 dently been occupied by a hunter. The Sylvan Hall of Roderick Dhu 
 was here in miniature, with its guns, pistols, game-bags, shot-belts, 
 deers' horns and fishing tackle of every kind, and to crown all, on 
 top of a press I saw as I looked up a pair of great glaring eyes staring 
 at me, a mouth wide open, with large, sharp teeth ready to devour 
 me, and two huge paws ready to pounce down upon his prey. I 
 started at the sight, but in a minute I saw and was satisfied that his 
 panthership was a trophy of the chase, preserved and stuffed. I had 
 more agreeable quarters after that night. 
 
 I had a great desire to see slavery as it existed in the South. I had 
 seen it in a very mild form in Kentucky, but now I expected to see it 
 as I had read of it in books. But on this and the surrounding plan- 
 tations I was agreeably disappointed. The slaves were well cared for 
 (but they were slaves). I was at six weddings on Christmas day. The 
 slaves did all their courting through the year, and did the marrying 
 Christmas week, when they had a merry time. The planters lived 
 free and easy in their splendid hospitality; were generous and chival- 
 rous. The appliances of wealth surrounded them, and charmed the 
 senses. I fully appreciated and enjoyed plantation life. What with 
 reading, hunting, listening to traveler's tales and visiting, the winter 
 passed quickly. I grew strong again, my health returned in full 
 vigor, and I was truly grateful. 
 
 Letters from Brother Parrish and other friends at Midway, brim- 
 full of love, came to me, asking me to return quickly as possible. I 
 was wanted in Kentucky; the orphans wanted me. 
 
 In early spring Gen. Keene sickened and died. He called for me 
 about two hours before he died, took a most affectionate farewell of 
 me, and said: 
 
 "God bless you." 
 
 I saw him no more till I saw him in his coffin, handsomely dressed 
 in broadcloth, and lying as if he was asleep. While the five children 
 slept in the room I called Sylvan Hall, I kept watch by them all 
 night, and listened to the melancholy howling of the wolves which 
 
 were prowling around. Mrs. K told me after her husband's 
 
 death, that in consequence of a conversation I had with the general 
 when I first went to the South on the human rights of the negro, he 
 had allowed no Sunday work on his plantation. I was glad to hear
 
 -12 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 that the poor slave had some consideration shown him through my 
 instrumentahty. Two other plantations gave up Sunday work for the 
 same reasons that I gave the general. 
 
 '^Ixs. K had taken her children to Missouri. I was on the 
 
 plantation alone waiting for a Kentucky boat, when Mrs. Col. B , of 
 
 Lake Providence, invited me to stay with her till the boat came. On 
 the ni'^ht I went to her house she had a grand party. Dancing, drink- 
 UY\ playing cards and other games were in order. I soon found that 
 I was not in my proper place. Next morning before breakfast a 
 negress came to me, and said : 
 "Please, Missus wants ya." 
 
 I followed my sable guide to Mrs. B 's sitting-room, where sat 
 
 the beautiful hostess with her two pretty young sisters. Mrs. Colonel 
 B , with severity in her tone, asked me why I had acted so singu- 
 larly the night before. I asked to what she alluded. 
 
 * 'Why, you refused to dance or play with our distinguished guest. 
 You offended him. Do you know who he is?" 
 
 "I do not, nor does it matter to me who or what he is; were he a 
 Christian, he would not be offended at my conduct." 
 
 Mi-s, -Q then said: "I object to it. The usages of good society 
 
 demand that you conform to them, and dancing is quite an accom- 
 plishment, and can not be dispensed with." 
 
 "When I moved in good society I thought as you do, and I danced 
 away my precious time, nor ever thought of death or eternity; but I 
 moved from good to better society. I left the dance and the theater 
 behind. I now belong to the Church of Christ, and consider all these 
 things beneath my high calling in Christ. I now move in a higher 
 plane than I once did, and I look down upon all such scenes as were 
 presented at your house last night with supreme contempt. I told you 
 the last time I was here at a party never to ask me to a dance-party 
 again, as I objected to them." 
 
 "Does your church forbid your dancing?" she asked. 
 I answered that I did not know, as I never had made the inquiry. 
 "I am accountable to a higher court," I said, "for my actions. I 
 find the rules for my conduct in the Bible, not in the church, and by 
 conforming to them, I hope to rise from the better to the best society, 
 even that of Christ and his angels, and the just made perfect in heav- 
 en." 
 
 While I was being arraigned at the bar of this fashionable court. 
 Col. B came in. He said :
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IN THE SOUTH. 313 
 
 "You are a lady after my own heart. You are not ashamed in 
 Louisiana of reUgion you profess in Kentucky, and you act your 
 religion out, and defend your actions. I admire your moral courage." 
 
 "Colonel," said his beautiful wife, "I am beginning to think our 
 friend is right, and I wish I could think and act so. You say she is a 
 lady after your own heart. I can say the same, and when I die I do 
 not know any one I should like so well to raise my children as she. 
 Will you promise me, Colonel, to marry her when I am dead?" 
 
 "My dear," her husband said, "you forget our friend may not wish 
 to marry me." 
 
 Ske looked at me and was about to speak, when I said : 
 
 "You may die sooner than you think or wish, and you ought not 
 to make light of so serious a matter." 
 
 As I had prepared to go to the hotel at the lake to wait for the boat, 
 I excused myself from further conversation. 
 
 The boat at last came up from New Orleans. I went on board. 
 The heat was stifling, and I sat outside my state-room door on the 
 guards, looking into the dark, rolling river. The paddles of the boat 
 stopped, and I saw a yawl push off for the land. It was rowed si- 
 lently with muffled oars. I watched it intendy till her crew landed 
 with a load, which they deposited under a cottenwood-tree, then re- 
 gained their yawl and rowed to the steamer, and then we moved on. 
 Why a boat with muffled oars should land and leave a load of anything 
 at the water's edge under a tree, where was no plantation, seemed to 
 me just a little mysterious. Next night I could not sleep, the heat 
 was so great, and again I sat on the guards. It was midnight on the 
 mighty Mississippi. The stars sent out a clear but pale light. I 
 thought all on board were asleep. Everything except the paddles 
 was hushed in silence; presendy they were silent, and a yawl with 
 'rrtuffled oars darted from the side of the steamer to the shore, as it had 
 done the night before. The crew landed and deposited a load at the 
 water's edge as on the previous night, and when they regained their 
 boat, they as quickly as possible rowed for the steamer, and then we 
 moved on. A mystery was surely on hand; what could it be? I am 
 not over curious, but I did wish to have the mystery cleared up. I was 
 ttfraid to ask the captain or clerk, for I did not know them, and they 
 might think I ought to be elsewhere than on the guards at midnight 
 tvatching their actions. Nobody on board seemed to know of these 
 midnight excursions but myself, and I kept silent. Hut a third night and 
 two boat-loads were landed, and left as before in the same mysterious
 
 -,1^ THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 manner. I was interested from the first, but now I was excited, and 
 I determined, if possible, to solve the mystery by speaking pubUcly of 
 what I had seen. I did so, and the startling fact was elicited that the 
 Asiatic cholera was on board the steamer. A great many German 
 immigrants had been taken on board in the steerage at New Orleans 
 who were sick, and the fell disease spread amongst them, and they 
 were dying like sheep, and were carried to the brink of the river to be 
 carried away by its waters, or swallowed by alligators. One whole 
 family, father, mother, sisters and brothers, eight in all, were swept off, 
 and left one poor little helpless girl without clothing; for all that the 
 poor people had was burned. We ladies of the saloon set to work 
 and made some clothing for the little orphan. The first little frock 
 we made her was put on her to bury her in. We bought her shoes 
 and stockings at Memphis, but gave them to another child left equally 
 destitute. This second landed at Louisville, but died while they were 
 carrying her to the hospital. 
 
 After we passed Cairo, we stopped to let a passenger land, whose 
 cabin was on the beautiful bank of the Ohio. A few weeks ago, he 
 had gone down the river on a flatboat, sold his goods, and was return- 
 ing to his family with his earnings. He had nursed faithfully one after 
 another of the family, whose last we had in vain provided for. He 
 was taken ill just before landing, and was lifted in the arms of the men, 
 who took him ashore. His wife, who was on the lookout for him, 
 rushed down to meet her husband. She threw her arms around his 
 neck, and called out: 
 
 "Oh, Tom, what ails you," and she kissed a corpse. 
 The woman fell to the ground with a terrible shriek. The men car- 
 ried the corpse into the cabin, and left it there. They left the woman 
 prostrate on the ground, and then ran to their yawl, and came on 
 board, and we moved off as quickly as possible. Nearly all the steer- 
 age passengers had died, and those yet alive were sick. Consternation 
 spread in the saloon when one young lady sickened. I waited on her. 
 I knew that I was in God's hand, whether I lived or died; I had no 
 fear. The young lady was landed alive, but I do not know whether 
 she Uved or died. That was a most harrowing trip; I was glad to land. 
 Dr. Elliotte was at Portland with his carriage, waiting to take me to 
 his elegant home, to spend a few days before going farther. 
 
 Captain S was among the first to welcome me back to Ken- 
 tucky. As I had promised, I went to visit his sisters in their elegant 
 country homes — Mrs. Colonel Ormsby, a very lovely, mild and gentle
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IN THE SOUTH. 315 
 
 lady, with a very interesting family; Mrs. Herr, a whole-souled, warm- 
 hearted hospitable woman; Mrs. Dr. Frederick, Mrs. Scott and Mrs. 
 Jane Sherley, a widow lady, the eldest of the family, a queenly woman, 
 as good as she was grand-looking. If these noble women were not 
 elders in the church, as their brother jokingly styled them, they were 
 assuredly Christian ladies, and every one kinder to me than another. 
 The whole family seemed to take me into their hearts at first sight. 
 For this kindness I had to thank Captain S . 
 
 Before I left the South, I had one day eaten a philopena with a 
 friend (A. K. R.), and obtained the forfeit. A Tunis silk purse, with 
 a check for fifty dollars in it, was handed to me. This money I handed 
 to Mr. Parrish for the Orphan School at Midway, as well as other 
 moneys that I had collected for the school. 
 
 I spent a pleasant summer between Georgetown and Midway. 
 When the summer was ended, I prepared to return to the Suave Terre 
 
 Plantation, as I had promised to teach Mrs. K 's orphans, and 
 
 keep her company. All my friends vied with each other in kind atten- 
 tions to me. My head was not turned, however, as some feared it 
 might be. "Friends are God's gifts, and we may love them wisely, 
 but not too well." I have asked the question often of myself, how can 
 I love my friends too well, when they lavish such a wealth of love on me? 
 
 We went on board the palatial steamer Shotwell, and had a delight- 
 ful trip. The company was pleasant, the fare good, and all were in 
 fine spirits. Miss Mary Bryan, a friend of mine, who married Ur. H. 
 Blackburn, was being taken by her husband to his Southern home. 
 She was beautiful, and he was devoted. Yellow fever had raged all 
 the summer and the early fall, and when we touched at Lake Provi- 
 dence to land passengers, a funeral procession passed. I inquired 
 who was being carried to the last resting-place. To my amazement, 
 
 I was told that the beautiful and sparkling Mrs. Colonel B had tlie 
 
 day before fallen a victim to the fell destroyer, and was being borne to 
 her tomb. Stricken down in the bloom of beauty, in the midst of 
 every worldly enjoyment, much against her will. In the midst of her 
 agony, she cried out, "I can not, shall not, will not die." But death 
 had marked her for his own. She spurned him from her, but he would 
 not let her go. Yellow fever and death were holding high carnival all 
 around us, yet I was preserved. God was good to me. I asked what 
 I could render to Him for all his goodness to me. 
 
 Governor T , of Mississippi, was on board, and was introduced 
 
 to me, and we became for a time good friends. We had a great many
 
 3l6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 friendly discussions on religious topics. He was a splendid-looking 
 man, talented and wealthy. He had asked me to be his life compan- 
 ion, and offered me many inducements to marry him. He said he 
 panted for a mind that could appreciate his own, and he knew I could. 
 I told him I was not so sure that I could appreciate any man's mind 
 Vv'ho did not believe the great center truth of the Bible, and I did not 
 believe any man could appreciate my mind if he were not a Christian. 
 We had some very plain talk. He was a man of strong, subtile mind, 
 and might have tried to unhinge my faith in Christ, and put my soul 
 in jeopardy. "And what would it profit, if I gained the whole world, 
 and lost my own soul?" When I had been a short time on the plan- 
 tation, I received a long letter and a book from the governor. He 
 said he believed the reason why I refused all his kind offers was be- 
 cause he was a Universalist. He said if I would read the book that he 
 sent me carefully, I would see his reasons for his belief. He hoped it 
 would satisfy me. He said, with my permission, he would come and 
 see me. The carriage that he bought for me at Memphis was of little 
 value to him, unless the one for whom it was bought would use it. 
 He would drive down in it, and see how I liked it. 
 
 I read the book through carefully, and answered his long, kind letter. 
 I told him that I saw nothing in the book to prefer to the Bible, and 
 if he would read the Bible carefully, he would see my reasons for my 
 belief, and I hoped they would satisfy him. I thanked him for all his 
 intended kindnesses, but I could not avail myself of them. So far as 
 driving me out in his beautiful carriage was concerned, I told him my 
 time would be so fully occupied teaching, that I could not accept of 
 his kindness in this matter. I sent back his book, and told him that 
 my letter required no answer, and thus ended our acquaintance, a very 
 pleasant one while it lasted. 
 
 Another winter passed pleasantly in teaching and reading, writing to 
 
 friends, and listening to traveler's tales from Mr. A. K. R , Mr. 
 
 M. K and Y , who had traveled much in foreign lands. The 
 
 time to leave the South rolled round, and we left it to spend the sum- 
 mer in a cooler clime. 
 
 While in Kentucky, I was called upon to weep with those who weep, 
 and rejoice with those who rejoice. The beautiful and stately Mrs. 
 Leonidas Johnson, who had spent a few delightful weeks with us in 
 the South, enlivening the house with her brightness, was called upon 
 to weep for the loss of a beloved child. She felt the loss very keenly ; 
 but what mother does not feel the loss of a child? When I went to
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IN THE SOUTH. 3 It 
 
 see her, her head was bowed in grief, -and the whole family were in 
 deep sorrow. But it was well with the lovely, caressing little Irene; 
 she was happy. May it be well with the parents and the other mem- 
 bers of the family, when they are called upon to leave this world. 
 
 Dr. Bell, of Louisville, who had taken a deep interest in me, was a 
 profound scholar and philosopher. I was driving with him one day, 
 when he was going round to his patients. 
 
 "Well, dear Sister Eliza, what have you been reading last winter?" 
 asked the doctor. 
 
 I said, with a litde pride of manner, "I have been studying Types of 
 Mankind, a literary cenotaph to the memory of Dr. Morton, the great 
 anthropologist." 
 
 "Humph," said Dr. Bell, ''Types of Mankind; who would have 
 thought that you would poison your mind with reading such a work, 
 so full of subtile deadly poison. You must have an antidote." 
 
 "Well, doctor, prescribe," I said; "but you must not think I have 
 received much injury. I confess I was led to the shore of a sea, over 
 which I floated in chaotic dOubt for about two weeks. The narrow 
 edge of the wedge of doubt made a scratch on my mind's surface. In 
 God's strength, however, I roused, and read the work to the end. I 
 discovered the aim of the authors, and escaped their coils, and I love 
 the Bible better now than ever I did." 
 
 The doctor was very direct and pointed in his speech. He said : 
 
 "You had no business to read that work; ladies, as a rule, let such 
 works lie on the shelf; they are deep, dry and subtile. You are the 
 only lady I know who has read the work." 
 
 I said that I was glad I read it; I was interested in it, and gained 
 much valuable information, and I escaped from' its infidelity unscathed. 
 
 "For the poison that is left in your system, Sister Eliza, my antidote 
 is for you to read and carefully study The Life and History of Paul and 
 His Epistles, by Conybeare and Howson. Make that great work, with 
 your Bible, your study this winter, and I know you will feel better for 
 the study of them, than you did from the study of the great cenotaph." 
 I highly appreciated the interest the doctor took in my spiritual 
 welfare, and I took his advice; bought Conybeare & Howson's great 
 work, and studied it with profit. 
 
 This year we went South too soon. The yellow-fever had not yet 
 disappeared. I was no coward, but I should not have gone voluntarily 
 down the river into the jaws of the yellow monster. I wrote to friends 
 in Kentucky how they were to dispose of my effects if I fell a vie-
 
 31 8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 lim to the fever, and then committed myself to the care of my heav- 
 enly Father. 
 
 Letters, from Midway told me of the very delicate health of my dear 
 Brother Parrish. Mrs. S wrote to me, and said: 
 
 "Mr. Parrish is far from getting well; he thinks he must go; he has 
 no hope of ever getting well again, and he is setting his house in or- 
 der. Sue, it seems, is quite unconscious of his state ; perhaps it is best 
 so. What I wish particularly to say is, that you must not make any 
 arrangements to visit this summer, but stay with us. In all probabihty 
 it will be the last you will spend with him, and he wishes you to be 
 with him. I wish you were with us now. When you come up the 
 river come direct to us, for the sake of him who is passing away. He, 
 with us all, sends much love." * * * 
 
 A letter from New South Wales told me of my sister's illness and 
 her request that I return to that country, but the letter was seven 
 months coming to me. When it was written, she was at the point of 
 death. She urged my return to Australia; she appealed to my sympa- 
 thies; she knew my vulnerable part; she offered me every inducement to 
 return. Her letter was full of kindly expressions. (A new thing for 
 her to so express herself to me.) I thought sickness had changed 
 her nature somewhat, and of this I was glad. That letter gave me 
 great trouble. I did not know what to do. Duties are sometimes well 
 defined; we can not but see them if our inclinations do not blind us. 
 This I did know, that the two great contending motives were drawing 
 me either way. First, my sister had many friends, but, as she said she 
 had but one sister. She thought her three little children would be left 
 motherless, and who could be to them a mother like her sister? 
 
 "Come to my home; it is yours. We are building and remodeling 
 houses, and preparing for long life, but I fear I must die," she said. 
 
 From this view I felt it was my duty to go. But again I hesitated. 
 I did not like New South Wales, nor did I think I ever could; but 
 this was a small matter and easily overruled. But then, I loved Amer- 
 ica, its people, its institutions. I loved my friends, my Christian 
 friends especially. I loved the Church of Christ and its ordinances. 
 All these I would have to sacrifice. And what a sacrifice! My life 
 would seem small in the balance. In Sydney Christianity was not 
 popular ; we had no church there. I would have to make new friends 
 there, but of what kind of material ? Certainly nothing congenial. I 
 thought if I went to Sydney, and my sister were to live, which I hoped 
 she would many years, she would bring up her children herself. Were
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IN THE SOUTH. 319 
 
 she to die, I would most cheerfully take charge of her little ones, but 
 they might be taken from me, and in either case it would be a great 
 sacrifice on my part, to little or no purpose. Such thoughts coursed 
 through my brain on receiving my sister's letter. Another letter from 
 Australia told me my sister was alive and better, which was a great 
 relief to my mind. 
 
 We left the South, and while at Louisville Captain S came to 
 
 see me, and brought his bride's card to me, saying: 
 
 "You would not take me for a husband, but I hope to retain your 
 friendship." 
 
 Which he did till he died. 
 
 I hastened to the bedside of my sick friend and brother, and enjoyed 
 his heavenly conversation. What a beautiful picture is the life and death 
 of a Christian. Here was a man of God who felt that he must pass 
 away. His sun of life was gradually setting, but he had no fear. He 
 was going out of the world, but it was not a step in the dark; Christ 
 was with him in the shady valley. My soul was refreshed by his calm 
 and cheerful aspect and holy converse. Brother Parrish told me he 
 was going to die; he could not tell how long he could last, but he had 
 a great desire that I should be near him in his last days; he said those 
 whom he loved most he wished to be near him as he was passing away 
 down the dark valley, and he would be the first to greet them when 
 they reached the other side of the river. He begged me not to leave 
 Kentucky that fall, but to be as much with him as possible. I cheer- 
 fully consented to his earnest request to remain in Kentucky that 
 winter. I was being weaned from earth, as I listened to this man of 
 God talking of the heavenly home to which he was going. I asked 
 him one day if he thought it a possible thing to carry a message from 
 a human being in the flesh, to a disembodied spirit in tlie other world? 
 He turned to me with a heavenly light in his eye, and said : 
 
 "Eliza, I do not know whether it be possible, but if it is, I shall 
 carry your message to Mary; that is what you want, is it not?" 
 
 "Yes, Brother Parrish, you understand me." I said. 
 
 How precious were his words of encouragement, cheerfully spoken, 
 to the lone wanderer traveling along life's desert path. I was wiih my 
 departing brother as much as I could be, but I had to leave him for a few 
 days, and I purposed when I returned to remain with him till he left 
 the world. I knelt by his couch; he threw his arms round my neck 
 and kissed me farewell.
 
 320 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "God bless you in your wanderings, dear sister. I shall welcome 
 you home by-and-by." 
 
 He was calm, but I wept sore. 
 
 "I shall soon be back," I said. 
 
 He only looked at me, and then looked heavenward. We met no 
 more. He died the second day after I left. And so passed away this 
 noble Christian man, the orphan's friend, and the founder of that 
 grand institution, the Female Orphan School, of Midway, Ky., a liv- 
 ing monument to his good name. He is another link to the chain 
 that binds me to heaven. His widow wrote to me thus: 
 
 My Dear Sister Eliza: 
 
 I feel that I ought to have written to you sooner, but my heart was so full of 
 sorrow that I could not write. Dear sister, I feel that I have your sympathy. 
 * * * Your kindness to my dear husband in his declining days, your watchful- 
 ness around his dying-bed, can never be forgotten by me, and you will always be 
 associated in my mind with the last days of him who was so dear to me. We 
 so often speak of you in the family. He who was your friend and brother is 
 gone. Oh, how sad these words are to me; but why should they be sad, since I 
 know he is so happy in that heavenly home of which he talked so much, which 
 indeed was his theme for months before he died? * * « I regret so much 
 that you did not stay till all was over. Oh, the agony of the last few hours 
 none can tell but him who felt it. I never witnessed such, and at the same time 
 such resignation and Christian triumph. He would exclaim in the midst of ex- 
 treme suffering, "Oh, blessed Father, take me to thyself, that where thou art I 
 may be also." Just a few moments before he breathed his last, he seemed to 
 sink into a quiet slumber, and died without a struggle. I must tell you the last 
 words uttered by him. Oh, how precious to me they are: "Bless the Lord, O 
 my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy name." Can you, dear Eliza, 
 think how lonely and desolate our once sweet and happy home has been made? 
 We miss that dear familiar face at every turn, and listen for that familiar voice 
 now silent in death. * * * Will you remember me in your prayers ? » » * 
 Come to us soon. We all long to see you, and all join me in sending much love 
 to you. Yours most affectionately, Susan Parrish. 
 
 I had a select private school at Mr. John A. Gano's house. I had 
 Mr, Gano's two children, John and Mary; Col. Ware's three, Thomp- 
 son, Sallie and Lucy, and little Mary Innis, a sweet, curly-headed 
 little thing. These six were my especial charge, but others were 
 added to the number, and I had a pleasant litde republic to rule over, 
 and we were very happy. Mr. Gano was one of Kentucky's great 
 Evangelists, a successful proclp,imer of the gospel, a popular preacher, 
 and loved by all who knew him. With a tall, fine physique, a rich, full- 
 toned musical voice, warm, eloquent and persuasive in his preaching,
 
 PLANTATION LIFE IN THE SOUTH. 321 
 
 earnest in exhortation, he was an honored instrument in bringing many 
 to Christ. I considered myself highly privileged to be one of his 
 family for a time, and to be able to hear his preaching every Lord's 
 day, and to enjoy the ordinances of the Lord's house. Time passed 
 pleasantly; but the winter was bitterly cold, the mercury 21° below 
 zero. I was nearly frozen. When going to church one day I had a 
 strange feeling in my head. I could not sit in church, I felt so uncomfort- 
 able. I did not say much about being sick, but in about twenty-four 
 hours I was at the point of death, with erysipelas in the face and head. 
 Dr. R. M. Gano was unremitting in his attentions; he nursed me as 
 well as doctored me for eight or nine days and nights. He cut off my 
 luxuriant crop of hair. His wife and mother standing by, said: 
 
 "Oh, don't cut it off"; she will be so sorry when she gets well." 
 
 I heard them, and said: ''Cut it off, doctor, if it be necessary." 
 And off it came. 
 
 Dr. Gano was a skillful physician and a Christian gentleman, full oi 
 life and spirit. He was afterward a distinguished general in the army, 
 and after fighting many battles and suffering much, he distinguished 
 himself as a preacher of the gospel of peace, and coped with his dis- 
 tinguished father in bringing souls to Christ. 
 
 I recovered from my illness in a short time, finished my school ses- 
 sion, and had a highly satisfactory examination. I closed school in 
 June, 1857, for the holidays. I reopened school in the same family, 
 in the same school-room, in the fall of 1877, ^^ter a twenty years' 
 vacation. I had for my pupils the children of my former pupils. 
 
 21
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PREPARING TO LEAVE AMERICA. 
 
 At this time my sister wrote a very pleading letter for me to go to 
 her, and help her to raise her children in the right way. She said she 
 would send me money to pay my expenses to Australia. This was 
 enough; I thought her heart must be changed for the better, to have 
 her open it so as to send money. She had never before taken the least 
 interest in me or my affairs. She was a completely selfish woman. 
 When she was sick, she wrote for me to go to her children, but thought 
 not of the sacrifice I would have to make to go. But now her offer to 
 send me money showed a change in her feelings. I was willing to 
 make any sacrifice for her if I could do her any good, and if she had 
 a sincere desire for my help to train and educate her children in the 
 right way. I wrote to her, to say I would go to her as soon as I was 
 able. I said I was pleased at her profiering me money to take me to 
 Australia, but I did not need it. I had laid the case before the Lord 
 night and day, and yet could not decide what was my duty; but it 
 seemed to me that the heart of one who had ever shut me out was 
 opening, and I wished to enter in. I decided to go to my own, and 
 give them of the Word of Life as freely as I had received it whilst in 
 America. I thought I could teach and train my sister's children, then 
 bring in others, and so extend my mission, and, perhaps, found an 
 orphan school. I asked the Lord again and again to lead me in the 
 right way, to direct my thoughts aright, that I might plan aright, and 
 •carry out my plans aright, in the fear and love of my heavenly Father. 
 I had no hesitancy, n»w that my path of duty seemed clear before me, 
 and I was willing to walk in it. But oh, what was I about to sacrifice? 
 The friends that I loved as life itself; the church privileges and Chris- 
 tian teaching that I loved better than life ; the homes that had sheltered 
 and protected the stranger, whose lot had been cast amongst them; 
 friends who had loved her in sickness and health. To them my whole 
 heart went out in gratitude; they had ministered to my spiritual wants, 
 as well as my temporal wants. I asked God: "And must I leave them 
 all?" and duty answered, "All." "Freely you have received, freely 
 ;^ive." All my Christian privileges and Christian friendships I laid on 
 
 (322)
 
 PREPARING TO LEAVE AMERICA. 323 
 
 the altar of duty, and no one but God can ever know how great was 
 the sacrifice. 
 
 Dr. R. M. Gano accompanied me to Georgetown College commence- 
 ment, and President CampbelPs levee. I dined that day at Dr. Ew- 
 ing's (brother-in-law to Mr. John Gano), where I met Judge Edmund's, 
 Secretary of the American Bible Union, to whom I had been sending 
 money from time to time to make life directors. When I was intro- 
 duced to him, he asked if I were his unknown correspondent. I said 
 I was, and what a shaking of my hand followed. He had often wished 
 to find out who E. Davies was, and as my letters to him, with money 
 in them, required no answer, and went from different places (my last 
 money letter was from Mr. Gano's, to make him a life director), he 
 never could answer them. Now that he had discovered his unknown 
 correspondent, he had much to say to her. He was a pleasant, be- 
 nevolent, genial gentleman, perfectly enthusiastic in his work in the 
 great revision movement I told him that I expected to go to Austra- 
 lia. At once he said : 
 
 "If you go there, the American Bible Union will appoint you to in- 
 troduce the new version of the Testament into those far off lands, if 
 you will consent to do so." 
 
 I could not answer him at that time, but said, as I purposed spending 
 a few weeks at Louisville, we should meet again. From that time we 
 were in correspondence. I parted from Mr. Gano's family with many 
 tears andjegrets. 
 
 I went with Mrs. Keene and several ladies and gentlemen to the 
 Mammoth Cave. This cave being one of the wonders of the world, 
 I could not leave America without seeing it. Space will not allow me 
 to describe the wonders of this great cavern. The guides seem to love 
 the cave; they live more than half their time in it; they know every 
 crook and corner in it. Nor is this ample mother of caves unworthy 
 of their love. Great, impenetrable, awfully grand, gloomy and \)vo- 
 found, with no common mystery. "She lies pathetic, ine.xplicablc and 
 in.scrutable, because there is no interpreter. Her vast avenues end in 
 untrodden chambers. There are gulfs that have never been crossed, 
 abysses unsounded. Rivers, like human lives, rise in mystery, and 
 flow into mystery again. No light but the traveler's lamp ever pene- 
 trates to its deep, dark chambers. No sound is heard but the cricket's 
 low cry, or the lapsing water, as it flows slowly by, or a splash, as the 
 white, eyeless fish whip the water with their sensitive fins, and send a 
 faint ripple against the shore of the river." I had walked a great many
 
 324 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 more miles than the twenty to and from the maelstrom; but I was per- 
 fectly buoyant. I felt no fatigue; I could have walked as far again. 
 We gave up our lamps to the guides, wrapped our cloaks around us, 
 and emerged from the profound gloom and sile'tice of this wonder of 
 the nether region to light and life. We had not gone far, when I felt 
 as if I had struck myself against a wall of fire. I started back, and 
 exclaimed: "What is that?" 
 
 The light, cool air of the cave surrounded us thus far, but the hot, 
 heavy atmosphere of the upper world stood like a wall, and we had 
 to press into it. Next day the stage-coach came to the hotel for those 
 who wished to leave. I took advantage of this opportunity, as I had 
 my preparations to make for my long voyage. I arrived at Louisville, 
 after a seventeen hours' ride on the cars and stage-coach. 
 
 I went to Dr. Bell's, to stay till my friends returned from the cave. 
 I told the doctor of my decision to go to Australia. This seemed to 
 give him trouble. He walked up and down the room, and said : 
 
 "You must not leave this country, where you are known and loved 
 by every one. Stay with us; we all care for you. Do not leave a 
 certainty for an uncertainty. You have friends and privileges that you 
 love in this country, that you can not have where you are going. Stay 
 with us." 
 
 Mrs. Bell, in her gentle persuasive manner, joined her husband in 
 saying, "Do stay with us." 
 
 Now had I not believed in ray heart that duty called me hence, the 
 strong and earnest appeals, and the reasons given by the doctor, and 
 the heart-touching words of his wife, would surely have had an effect 
 upon me. As it was, I had to walk in the path of duty at whatever 
 cost. But oh, it was very hard to go. I asked God to help and 
 strengthen me. Judge Edmunds was perfectly enthusiastic about my 
 going, I having consented to introduce the new version of the New 
 Testament to the churches and the people of the colonies. Mrs. Keene 
 said I had no business to leave this country, where I had so many 
 friends, and she almost felt angry at my going. Another friend said 
 he knew I would not like New South Wales, and I could not take that 
 long voyage alone; he would go with me and bring me back. I stood 
 aghast at this proposition, and said to him : 
 
 "Are you mad, Mr. ? I tell you before I go, that I do not 
 
 like New South Wales, but your proposition is entirely out of the ques- 
 tion. You can not go with me, although love for that country does
 
 PREPARING TO LEAVE AMERICA. 325 
 
 not draw me to it. There are human beings there who need what I 
 can give, and they are asking for it." 
 
 "Is there anything under heaven that I can do to prevent you from 
 going?" said my friend. 
 
 "Nothing," I said; "my course is marked out, and nothing but 
 some providential circumstances can hinder my going. If God in any 
 way stops my passage, I shall not force my way. I am in his hands; 
 he will do what is right." 
 
 My friends everywhere were opposed to my leaving; they had no 
 sympathy in my mission. 
 
 "You ought to stay where you are," they said. 
 
 Some of my gentlemen friends serenaded me one night. The airs 
 of my native land were sung and played to perfection, and they 
 sounded very sweet. September was a busy time with me. I had a 
 four months' voyage before me in a sailing vessel, in which I could 
 have no washing done ; so I had rnany garments to prepare. My lady 
 ■friends around Midway set to work, and cut and made up bolts of 
 cotton. Letters, testimonials and souvenirs were given to me, all of 
 which I prized very highly for the good feeling they expressed. I 
 shall copy one or two of the letters: 
 
 Midway, Woodford Co., Kv., September 3, 1857. 
 At a meeting of the Board of Trustees of the Kentucky Female Orphan 
 School, it was resolved unanimously that a letter of commendation be awarded 
 to Sister Eliza Davies as teacher and assistant matron of this Institution, and 
 that Dr. L. L. Pinkerton be requested to prepare such letter. 
 
 Richard Parrish, Clerk of Board Trustees. 
 
 In obedience to the above resolution, it gives me great pleasure to state, that 
 for the space of three years Sister Eliza Davies occupied the position of 'teacher 
 and assistant matron in the Kentucky Female Orphan School, and that the varied 
 and weighty duties were met and discharged with great fidelity. She left the 
 Institution for a more desirable position, and carried with her the respect and 
 best wishes of her associates in the Faculty, and of the Board of Trustees, 
 
 L. L. Pi.NKERTON, Pastor of the Church of Christ, Midway, Ky. 
 
 Sister Davies, having lived in a number of families in the United States, prin- 
 cipally in the capacity of instructress, has, by her intelligence, piety and purity 
 of manners, won the esteem and affection of a large number of acquaintances, 
 who part with her with sincere regret. The families of A. Campbell, President 
 of Bethany College, of the Kentucky Female Orphan School, of Jas. Ware Parrish, 
 founder of the above school, of Gen. Wallace Keene, of Louisiana, and of Elder 
 John A. Gano, of Bourbon County, Ky., will long remember her with affection,
 
 326 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and she will bear with her to the distant land of Australia the prayers and good 
 wishes of the above, and many other friends in Virginia and Kentucky, among 
 whom she has principally resided while in this country. 
 
 John D. Dawson, Principal of Kentucky Female Orphan School. 
 
 Centreville, Bourbon Co., U. S. A., September 14, 1847. 
 To any to whom these may be presented: 
 
 This voluntary testimonial is given our excellent and highly prized Sister Eliza 
 Davics, who, after a residence in this State of near six years, and in my imme- 
 diate family of near twelve months, under a high sense of duty is about to leave 
 the theater of her great usefulness here, vi^here she has in a great measure contrib- 
 uted to the improvement and happiness of so many, to reside in a far-distant 
 land, that she may still be instrumental in the hands of God of doing good, and 
 especially of promoting the happiness of those who are near and dear to her 
 heart. Her residence among us has greatly endeared her to us; her intelligence, 
 modesty, amiability and piety eminently fit her for usefulness in any circle of 
 society. Her residence in my family has been most peaceful, useful and happy, 
 and our great regret is, that we can not prevail on her to remain longer with 
 us; to make our house her home. She is blessed of heaven with gifts which in 
 addition to her acquired knowledge peculiarly fit her for the instruction of the 
 young, their guidance and management, and such committed to her care are 
 safe. May the choicest of heaven's blessings be hers, and may her future path- 
 way of life be pleasant and bright. Respectfully, John A. Gano. 
 
 I was very sorry to part from my youthful charge. We all loved 
 each other very much. As I came down the porch steps, John Gano, 
 my pupil, followed me, gave me his knife, his precious boy's knife, 
 his only possession, and asked me to keep it to remember him by; he 
 had nothing else of his own to give me, and he wished me never to 
 forget him. I put my arms round the dear boy and told him to keep 
 his only possession, that I could never forget him. He felt hurt at 
 my refusing to accept it; he thought I did not think it worth accept- 
 ance. He was mistaken. I took his knife and kept it for his sake. 
 Twenty years afterward I showed this same knife to Captain John 
 Gano, and asked him if he remembered it. He had been aid-de-ca?np 
 to his brother, the General, in the war, and had since married the 
 sweet, curly-headed little Mary Innis, and had a little family. At 
 Mrs. Smith's, at Midway, I had a little room appropriated to my use, 
 called the "Dove's nest," and ere I left it for the last time, I knelt 
 down by my bed and committed myself and friends to a kind, heaven- 
 ly Father's care, and asked God to bless all who had been kind to me 
 while I was among them a sojourner. 
 
 I went to Louisville to spend the last day in Kentucky with Mrs. 
 Keene. Judge Edmunds was very kind to me; he took all the trouble
 
 PREPARING TO LEAVE AMEr.I 
 
 327 
 
 of expressing my heavy baggage to New York, and getting my paper 
 money changed for gold, and doing everything for me and saving me 
 all the trouble possible. Farewells were spoken. Judge E ac- 
 companied me across tlie Ohio to where the cars took me from Jeffer- 
 sonville. The stage-coach crossed the river on a boat in those days. 
 I changed cars in the middle of the night, and stopped at a miserable 
 place for two hours till the St. Louis train would come. At last, a 
 whistle! I started to my feet glad to get away from that place. I was 
 stepping into the train, when a gentieman touched me on the shoulder, 
 and said: 
 
 "You are taking the wrong train." 
 
 I had just time to get off that, and on to the right one, when off we 
 started and reached Wheeling that evening. I took the stage from 
 Wheeling to Bethany. Oh, what a thrill passed tlirough me as I 
 passed the college, drove across the bridge, up the lane, to Bethany 
 house. What memories crowded my mind. My emotions overcame 
 me so that when I saw my revered friend I could not speak to him for 
 some time. I was shown into the dear old parlor of hallowed mem- 
 ory. On the wall hung the portraits of Miss Clarinda's sainted sisters, 
 and hers was added, the last of that bright band. I was startled to see 
 Miss Clarinda's (Mrs. Pendleton's) likeness; I had never seen it when 
 she was alive. They are now an unbroken band in heaven. Mr. 
 Campbell came in and found me weeping. Tears were in the strong 
 man's eyes when he said: 
 
 "Sister Davies, I appreciate your feelings, I know how you loved 
 her." 
 
 Professor Pendleton had taken to his home another lady, bright and 
 beautiful as the morning, for his wife. A. Campbell, Jr., had married 
 soon after I left Bethany a very superior young lady, and their little 
 daughter, Virginia, and myself formed quite a friendship. Miss Vir- 
 ginia Campbell was still unmarried. My little friend Dessie had 
 grown to be a beautiful, perfectly formed young lady. It was a sweet 
 picture to see these two sisters with arms entwined around each other 
 walking among their flowers, themselves the most lovely. 
 
 On Lord's day Mr. Campbell preached from the twentieth chapter 
 of the Apocalypse, one of his own great sermons. He caused his 
 hearers to ask themselves the question, What is my mission here ? 
 Have I fulfilled it? am I fulfilling it? It was heart-searching and 
 elocjuent. Much he said reminded me of the first sermon I had heard 
 him preach in Scotland. Many things he said that I wished to treas-
 
 328 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ure in my mind, as I thought the probabiHty was I should never hear 
 him again. He repeated in his sermon what he had once said to 
 me in Kentucky: "Attempt great things, expect great things, and 
 great things will follow." He said the "Bible is the only book that 
 spans the arch of time, and, therefore, most worthy to be studied. 
 God is the only being who spans the arch of eternity, and, therefore, 
 most worthy to be adored in our hearts." 
 
 I visited the graveyard, most sacred and hallowed spot. Oh, how 
 sacred to the memory are the reminiscences of the dear old place ! I 
 knelt by the grave of my once dearest earthly friend. The bright, 
 the beautiful, the holy spirit of Clarinda has passed away to the realms 
 of the blest, but her ashes lie in the little graveyard on Mount Clarin- 
 da. I prayed to God that a part of her mantle might fall on me, that 
 I might become more like her. I invoked her pure spirit to be near 
 me at times if permitted; to influence me to follow her as she followed 
 her Lord in the onward and upward path. I spent one quiet and 
 peaceful hour in communion with the departed. Many are the names 
 added to this last class since I visited the hallowed spot. I stood by 
 the graves of my "wee pet lamb" and his young mother. Oh, how 
 important it is to so live, that we may meet again the blessed who have 
 gone before. 
 
 I left dear Bethany amid the tears and prayers of my Bethany 
 friends. Many were the blessings my venerated friend Mr. Campbell 
 asked God for me, to rest and abide on my head forever. I was 
 greatly cheered and encouraged by my visit. Mr. Campbell entirely 
 approved of my mission and my motives for going to the far-distant land 
 of the South. He blessed me in my course, and told me to go on 
 and God would surely be with me. I prayed, "O my Father in heav- 
 en, may I never lose the confidence of my great and noble friend, my 
 spiritual benefactor. May I go forward trusting in Thee and borne 
 on the wings of the prayers of those who petition Thee for my safety. 
 May I devote myself entirely to Thy work. Help me, Father, for Thy 
 Son's sake." 
 
 My friend gave me a letter of introduction to brethren where I 
 could find them. I shall transcribe it : 
 
 Bethany, W. Va., September 27, 1857. 
 To all of our brethren in Jesus Christ to whom these presents may coine, greeting : 
 
 It affords me pleasure to say that the bearer, Sister Eliza Davies, has spent a 
 considerable time in my family, during which she has exhibited to myself and 
 many others a very exemplary zeal, and much earnestness in her profession of the
 
 PREPARING- TO LEAVE AMERICA. 329 
 
 Christian faith and hope, and a self-denying zeal and energy m contending for 
 the faith and manners of the primitive Christians. She is now leaving the 
 United States of America for the purpose of doing service abroad in the cause of 
 our common Lord and Master. While, then, we commend her to all our breth- 
 ren in Christ, whithersoever the Lord may direct her way, we do so in the confi- 
 dence that she will never be a shame to them nor they to her. 
 
 Written by my own hand. Alexander Campbell, 
 
 An Elder of the Christian Church, Bethany, Brooke County, Virginia, United 
 States of America. 
 
 I met Judge Edmunds at the depot in Columbus, Ohio, jumped into 
 the cars, and rolled on through Cleveland, Erie and Buffalo, then to 
 the Falls of Niagara, another great wonder of the world that I wished 
 to see ere I left America. A more able, careful and intelligent cicerone 
 I could not have had than Judge Edmunds. We were near his home, 
 and he knew every place around the falls. I heard the Niagara. This 
 ic- an Indian name, and means thunder of waters. It is a true concep- 
 tion; for the waters of the world's widest lakes, with innumerable 
 tributaries, making more than one hundred and fifty thousand square 
 miles of surface, are forced to take the gigantic leap over this great fall, 
 whose vastness has to be studied long before the imagination can real- 
 ize it. Lake Ontario, which lies three hundred feet lower than Lake 
 Erie, receives this vast body of water, and pours it into the Atlantic 
 through the giant river St. Lawrence. After viewing the falls from 
 various points, we ascended Prospect Tower. This building is forty- 
 five feet high, with a winding stairway, up which you climb, and ob- 
 tain a view of unutterable magnificence. You look down into the very 
 caldron itself, where the emerald waters are lost in mist and foam. 
 The precipice, over which the rushing river tumbles its millions of tons 
 of water hourly, is one hundred and sixty-five feet deep, and we stood 
 about fifty feet above it, making over two hundred feet to look down. 
 We turned and looked up the rapids, and saw the beautiful crested bil- 
 lows rolling madly down at the rate of forty miles an hour, to take 
 their plunge into the dread abyss with ceaseless thunders. We de- 
 scended, to have a view of the falls from below. We took a ferry- 
 boat, and our brawny boatman pulled us up toward the caldron. This 
 was a perilous pull, but I enjoyed it. A full view of the panorama of 
 the falls was to be had; a more magnificent spectacle one can not 
 imagine. I looked around, above, below, and I was enchanted and 
 bewildered. How awful is the might of that God whose work this is, 
 I thought. We had a sea captain on board, and when the little cockle 
 shell of a boat began to toss, he called out :
 
 J30 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "For God's sake, do not go nearer to the falls, or we will be 
 swamped." 
 
 The strong arm of the boatman soon brought us out of our danger. 
 
 I had now seen the Niagara, grand, glorious and sublime, dazzling 
 in rainbow tints, and, with his mighty tone, sounding out an anthem 
 of praise everlasting to his great Creator. What a contrast to the deep, 
 dense darkness of the Mammoth Cave and its eternal silence. 
 
 We took the cars again, and stopped at a station, where Judge Ed- 
 munds' son was in waiting with a carriage, and we were driven to the 
 home of my friend ; stayed there all night, and in the morning pro- 
 ceeded on our journey. We stopped at Syracuse, and visited the salt 
 works. Under the bed of Oneida Lake there is a valuable salt spring 
 or lake, from which, from a depth of six hundred feet, they draw salt 
 water. This they boil in large boilers in a very large room. I went 
 into a room where the fires were all out, and the walls, floors, ceilings, 
 boilers, furnaces, and everything on which a crystal could rest, was 
 incrusted with salt. This ornamentation was very brilliant. The room 
 looked like a grotto of frosted silver, white as driven snow. 
 
 The journey was resumed, and the country through which we passed 
 was rich in beautiful scenery. The Catskill Mountains looked grand 
 and imposing as we rounded the north end of them. We reached 
 Albany, the capital of the State of New York, and took passage on 
 board a splendid Hudson River steamer. I was perfectly charmed 
 with the beautiful scenery on this magnificent river. I sat on the 
 guards at the bow of the boat, asking my friend all manner of ques- 
 tions about the places of historic interest. He was a perfect encyclo- 
 pedia of knowledge. He pointed out the palisades, Washington Irving's 
 home, West Point, and various other places till night enclosed us; then 
 the moon shone forth in all her queenly brightness. I took no note of 
 time, I was so deeply interested in all I saw and heard, till my escort 
 told me I would take cold if I sat out any longer. 
 
 "Oh, no," I said; "I am not cold or tired, but I am charmed, and 
 I may never see this grand river and beautiful scenery again; but you 
 can retire, and leave me here to enjoy myself; I am not afraid." 
 
 He left me, but soon returned with two rugs; one he wrapped around 
 me, and placed my chair where I could see all that was to be seen. 
 He then wrapped himself up, and sat down beside me; he would not 
 leave me alone. He told me that twenty years before that night, he 
 had charge of another young lady going down this same river to New 
 York, and what to him was a singular coincidence, I had asked him
 
 PREPARING TO LEAVE AMERICA. 
 
 331 
 
 the very same questions about the very same places that she had ; she 
 was the same enthusiastic lover of nature. He said our minds were 
 alike, in fact, I was like her in almost everything. I asked who the 
 lady was. He said she was, 
 
 "Emily Chubbuck, better knowm by her literary 7wm de plume, 
 'Fanny Forester.' " 
 
 "Do you think I am like her in anything?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, I do, in a great many things." 
 
 I was highly complimented, but in my heart I felt at the time that 
 Fanny Forester was my superior in almost everything but devotion to 
 our commo Lord; in this alone I would not give her the palm. I lifted 
 up a prayer to the ear of my Father, to enable me to emulate the Chris- 
 tian graces of this lovely character, that I might be able to deserve the 
 exalted opinion that my friend had formed of me. 
 
 We landed at New York, and were driven to the elegant mansion 
 of Eli Kelly, Esq. He was a wealthy Baptist brother, and a cousin of 
 Judge Edmunds. Mrs. Kelly was an elegant lady, and a noble Chris- 
 tian; she also was a member of the Baptist Church. My lot at New 
 York was cast among the Baptists. I had a most cordial welcome from 
 this family; their home and hearts were open to receive me, thanks 
 to Mrs. and Miss Edmunds, who had preceded the judge two weeks, 
 and had told their friends he was going to bring me so far on my long 
 journey. I attended the annual convention of the American Bible 
 Union. May it be faithful to truth, and so prosper in the grand work 
 of revision, was my prayer. Great numbers of our brethren from every 
 State were in attendance, many of whom I knew, and with whom I 
 took the parting hand. I was introduced to the President Dr. Arniitage, 
 and to all the officers of the American Bible Union. Mr. Buckbee, a 
 Baptist minister, was assistant treasurer, and was anxious to forward 
 the interests of the society. He was authorized to pack up a case of 
 specimens of the new version of the New Testament, with reports and 
 documents of various kinds, for me. I had another case of all of Mr. 
 Campbell's works, and all the works of our brethren. I wished to in- 
 troduce them to the colonists as something strange, and new, and beau- 
 tiful. Mr. and Mrs. Edmunds took me to the Crystal Palace and 
 several other places of interest, while they remained in the city. The 
 judge and myself went to look for a ship in which to take a jjassarje 
 There was a fine new ship going direct to Sydney, my destination. 
 
 "This is just the ship for me," I said. 
 
 "Not so," said the judge.
 
 332 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "Why not?" I asked in some surprise. "This ship is going to the 
 very port I am going to; the other ship goes to another port, from 
 which I would have to reship at considerable expense." 
 
 "Be it so," said the judge in a decided tone. "This ship carries no 
 stewardess, and no lady passengers, and I can not send you out to sea 
 on a four months' voyage with none but men for your companions." 
 
 I laughed, and said, "Be it so; though I am not afraid of gentlemen." 
 
 "I am a better judge of gentlemen than you are," said my friend. 
 
 So we went on board of the Sebastian Cabot, 2500 tons, a perfect cas- 
 tle of a ship. It was owned by Mr. Watts, who also commanded her, 
 and was chartered by Mailord, Lord & Co., and consigned to Mr. 
 Lord at Melbourne. Mrs. Watts, who lived with her husband on 
 board, and had always sailed with him on his European voyages, was 
 now for the first time going to stay at home, that her children might 
 go to school. We became quite well acquainted in a short time. My 
 passage was taken in this ship. Mrs. Watts kindly had the large cabin, 
 which her three children occupied, fitted up for me. Her little parlor, 
 separated from the saloon by a bulkhead, was especially for my use. 
 Every arrangement was made on board for my comfort. I had nothing 
 to do but get my baggage on board and sail away. An unforeseen hin- 
 derance occurred. The judge had put my gold in the bank in Kentucky, 
 and when he went to draw it at New York, the bank had suspended 
 the day before. He telegraphed for a draft on another bank, but ere 
 it came, that had closed its doors, and so a third. A money panic was 
 in full play; but my passage must be paid, as the ship would sail soon, 
 or I must give up going with her. I was asked what I would do. 
 
 ' 'If God so orders that I shal^ not go, and places this hinderance in 
 my way, I shall not force myself away; I shall remain in America. 
 If he removes the hinderance I shall go. I wish only to do his will," 
 I said. 
 
 I was told my money was safe, only I could not get it at that time. 
 Mr. Buckbee and the judge took charge of it, and advanced as 
 much as would pay my way handsomely to my destination. This and 
 all other matters arranged, the judge, and his wife and daughter, 
 left New York for their temporary home in Kentucky. I was sin- 
 cerely sorry to part with these dear friends. They left me in good 
 hands. Mrs. Kelly drove me out every day, and took me to all the 
 benevolent institutions, picture galleries, and all places of interest that 
 could be thought of. She assisted me in my purchases. I added to 
 my wardrobe considerably, and to my own library. I bought a sew-
 
 PREPARING TO LEAVE AMERICA. 
 
 333 
 
 ing machine — a new thing in those days. Having spent three dehghtful 
 weeks at the elegant house of Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, whose exceeding 
 great kindness I shall never forget, she drove me to the ship that was 
 to carry me far, far away from friends and scenes I loved so well. I 
 went on board on the 24th of October, 1857. Mrs. Watts was on 
 board, and took me to the comfortably fitted-up room she had prepared 
 for me. All my great cases and trunks were stowed away conveniendy 
 and securely. I heard Mr. Buckbee give the captain strict charges 
 concerning me, and bespeak his kind offices for me. I was precious 
 freight, and was to be delivered safe into the hands of Mr. Lord, to 
 whom the ship was chartered, and to whom I had letters of introduc- 
 tion, and who was nearly related to Mr. Buckbee. I was amused at 
 being consigned to Mr. Lord as "precious freight." Mr. Buckbee was 
 the last of my American friends to bid me farewell.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 
 
 "Though oft I seem to tread alone 
 Life's dreary waste with thorns o'ergrown, 
 Thy voice of love in gentlest tone 
 Still whispers, 'Cling to me alone.'" 
 
 I FELT that I had none to cling to but my Savior, my friend unseen. 
 I thought trials might await me, and sufferings too, but if I moved on 
 in the path of duty at his command, he would be with me, and all 
 would be well. We were several days ere we got out to sea. We 
 had quite a scene on board one day. A poor woman came on "board 
 looking for her husband. She found him stowed away very snugly. 
 Ske begged him to come back to his family, but this he would not do. 
 She begged him for money to buy them bread, this he would not give. 
 She wept bitterly, but he would not relent, his heart was stony. The 
 mate, to end the scene, said to the poor woman, if she would go and 
 get a warrant for him he would deliver her husband to her. The 
 woman left, but did not come back again. 
 
 I had time to study my fellow-passengers ; I had nothing else to do 
 at the time. A woman sat opposite to me at dinner, with large, roll- 
 ing, restless eyes, looking everywhere and at everything. She had a 
 boy by her side about six years old. Next to her sat a huge Irish 
 woman, old and unwieldy; next to me sat a meek-eyed gentlewoman, 
 with her husband by her side, a quiet-looking man. I was not charmed 
 with the prospect of a long voyage in such company. Some detec- 
 tives came on board looking for a man who was not in the ship. The 
 lady with restless eyes was closely questioned about her husband. She 
 in tones unmusical swore, yes, swore, that she had no husband. Per- 
 haps, like the woman at the well of Samaria, she told the truth. The 
 steamer which towed us out of harbor left us, the pilot waved a good- 
 bye, and we parted on the bounding billows, when lo! a little cockle- 
 shell of a boat was seen bravely breasting the waves. We watched 
 with interest the puny efforts of the litde thing to overtake our noble 
 ship with its tremendous proportions, and the glorious and uproarious 
 
 (334)
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. "35 
 
 manner in which the vast sails were being spread out to catch the 
 freshening breeze. A signal was hoisted on board the cockle-shell. 
 The thin-lipped, shrill-voiced woman with restless eyes called out: 
 "Captain, stop the ship; my husband is on board that boat." 
 The captain turned upon her a stern look, and said: 
 "You told the detectives that you had no husband." 
 The woman looked bold and defiant. The ship hove to; a rope 
 was thrown to the men in the boat, one of which climbed the side of 
 the ship, was up and on board in a twinkling. Then he turned round 
 and threw a purse of gold to those in the boat, who had risked their 
 lives for gold to save a defaulter from the limbs of the law. Once 
 more our white-winged herald of commerce spread her sails to the 
 favoring breeze, and we bounded away on our trackless path. The 
 man who came on board was long, lean and lank, with a heavy black 
 beard, a very pale face, so much as could be seen of it, a slouched 
 hat over his head, ears and eyes, and an old overcoat, buttoned to the 
 chin, to cover his shabby clothes. In the evening the man was meta- 
 morphosed. He emerged from his cabin in an elegant suit of broad- 
 cloth, without a beard, and blazing with diamonds, large and lustrous, 
 in studs, shirt-pin and rings, about two yards of thick gold-cable chain, 
 and a handsome gold watch, studded with the like precious stones. He 
 was the admiration of himself as he displayed his finery. The woman 
 was similarly bedizened with diamonds, and had a dirty calico dress 
 on. We had only six saloon passengers, and sixty in the second cabin. 
 I had mapped out a programme to work by on the long voyage. 
 After my first week, which I gave to sea-sickness, I gave some time to 
 the study of na\'igation, some time to reading, some time to sewing or 
 doing fancy work, and some time to exercise. I wished to be syste- 
 matic in the use of my time. How delightful to sit on a calm, still 
 day and be floated over the waters, deep and dark, of the mighty sea, 
 and to be rocked gently up and down on the great waves, with their 
 emerald lights and purple shadows. But oh, how terrific to hear the 
 howling of the storm, when the sea, lashed into fury by the merciless 
 winds, tosses the ship hither and thither, straining every timber in her 
 frame. 
 
 As soon as we were fairly out at sea, the wind freshened, and the 
 ship began to jump and plunge. I staggered to the breakfast-table, 
 and had just seated myself when I had to be half carried back to my 
 cabin, where I lay deathly sea-sick for six days, without food of any 
 kind. After recovering sufficiently to take my first lesson in naviga-
 
 336 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tion from the captain, I went on deck, quadrant in hand, and took the 
 sun's altitude. This was my first observation and my last. I went to 
 my cabin and worked out the reckoning correctly, which corresponded 
 exactly with the captain's. When I finished my work, I laid my slate 
 and the epitome of navigation on the floor beside me, and leaned my 
 head on the bed, and there I sat for hours. When the stewardess 
 found me I was in a high fever. I had a very severe attack of bilious 
 fever. The captain was somewhat alarmed. He thought I was going 
 to die, and proposed to Mrs. Terril, the meek-eyed lady, that he would 
 give up his cabin to me, and she should lie on the sofa beside the bed 
 and wait on me; but I said I would not leave my room, and if I had 
 to die, I should die in my own cabin. I lived for weeks on barley- 
 water ; I could not eat solid food. One night my barley-water was 
 put on the parlor-table outside of my door, within sight, but out of 
 reach. I was burning up with fever; I seemed to have a fire in my 
 blood and in my bones. What a fearful night I passed in sight of 
 that mug of barley-water. My throat was parched; my tongue was 
 swollen and cleaving to my mouth, and I could not move to reach the 
 mug, nor could I call for any one to reach it to me. Dives could not 
 have suffered more physically, I think, than I did that night. In the 
 morning the captain looked in at my door, and exclaimed : 
 
 "Gracious king!" 
 
 He put his hand on my burning head, and ran for a bottle of cam- 
 phorated spirits, and poured the spirits over my head. I thought this 
 would finish me, but it had a good effect; I was then able to point to 
 the mug of barley-water that had tantalized me all night. I drank 
 and was able to speak ; and from that time I began to mend. 
 
 One day six large ships, in full dress, scudding before the wind at a 
 fine rate, hove in sight. They rode the waves majestically, and passed 
 grandly out of sight. Another day a frightful white squall struck our 
 ship, and she would have gone down to the lower depth, stern first, 
 had not our ever vigilant captain been on deck. His voice rang loud and 
 clear above the storm. The night grew dark. All hands were called 
 on deck; all was uproar and confusion. The sailors could not see; 
 thick darkness brooded o'er the ship; but when a fierce flash of light- 
 ning pierced the gloom they got a short glimpse of their surroundings. 
 The roaring thunder, and fierce, flashing lightning, and the angry, 
 foam-crested billows dashing against the sides of the ship, were fright- 
 ful ; but what was a more frightful sound to me, human voices, in the 
 midst of the elemental war, belched forth the most fearful oaths and
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 337 
 
 foul curses. My blood ran cold to hear such profanity at such a time. 
 
 We crossed the equator on the 28th of November. Calms and baf- 
 fling winds prevented our crossing several days previous. The captain 
 and officers were whistling for fair winds. The heat would have been 
 intolerable but for the heavy rains. It does not rain in those latitudes; 
 it pours, as if the heavens opened their flood-gates and emptied their 
 reservoirs. Before leaving America several of my friends told me 
 that a certain hour on Saturday evenings they would pray for me, spe- 
 cial petitions, and I was to think of them at the same time. When 
 Saturday night at sea came, I thought of all those who were praying 
 for me, and always took fresh courage. This voyage had thus far been 
 more monotonous than any previous one. We were in the region or 
 latitude of beautiful clouds. They assumed, one evening just before 
 sunset, a most wonderful appearance. Away on the horizon was a 
 dusky belt of sky, looking like land; above that towered masses of 
 cumuli, assuming every shape and form. The clouds looked like 
 snow-capped mountains, dazzling in splendor, with deep, dark ravines, 
 grand and gloomy in contrast. On the sides of the mountains you 
 could see, or think you could see, beasts of every name, form and 
 size. The captain was charmed with the splendid sight, and could 
 have been easily persuaded that land lay in that direction. Suddenly 
 the sun sank, and nothing but heavy banks of gray clouds hung near 
 the horizon; then all was dark. I had seen this cloud-picture in a 
 former voyage to Australia, and oh, it was very beautiful. 
 
 Our Lord's days were very differently spent on board of this ship, 
 to what I had experienced on others. We had no public service on 
 board, no recognition of the day at all. It was calculated to make one 
 forget almost when the day came. 
 
 The Tract Society had sent a box of tracts and books on board for 
 distribution. I gave the officers, when they came to dine at the second 
 table, some of the tracts, and hsked them to give some to the sailors. 
 All but the second mate thanked me for giving tlicm something to 
 read; he, with a muttered oath, said he did not read such things. I 
 heard fearful screams one morning, like cries of one in great distress. 
 I looked out of my window, and saw the mate kick with fearful vio- 
 lence a poor boy, I afterward saw the poor boy at the wheel, with 
 his head bandaged and his face all cut, swollen and discolored. I said 
 to the boy, he had better tell the captain of the bad treatment he had 
 received. The captain just then came on deck, and called me to him. 
 I rose, and went to him. I was infringing the ship's laws by speaking 
 22
 
 338 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 to the man at the wheel. I apologized for so doing, but I had done it 
 in ignorance. I should not do it again. I asked if it were in accord- 
 ance with the ship's laws, for the second mate to knock down a boy, 
 and kick him with the heel of a heavy boot on the head and face till 
 both were like raw flesh or jelly, and then to send that boy to the 
 wheel with one eye closed and blackened, and the other so that he could 
 hardly see anything, and his body so bruised, that he could with diffi- 
 culty turn the wheel. The captain colored scarlet. He was angry, 
 but he only said: 
 
 "You had better not interfere with the second mate." 
 
 I said I should not interfere with his duties, but in the cause of hu- 
 manity I would speak. 
 
 "He will be revenged on you if you do," said the captain. 
 
 "I have no fear; I am under your protection, and Mr. Livingstone 
 is your subordinate. What have I to fear?" 
 
 He bit his lip, left me in anger, and went to the boy, and gave 
 him a scolding for talking to the passengers. I told Mr. Terril of the 
 mate's brutal conduct, and told him that he must not be allowed to be 
 so brutal in his treatment of the lads. He said he would have an eye 
 on him. Nero was at his work again, leaving the mark of his heeled 
 boot on a boy's forehead; but Mr. Terril was soon at his elbow, pin- 
 ioned his arms behind him, and said to him : 
 
 '^The ship's articles do not require that you commit murder." 
 
 The captain heard the uproar, and sent for his second in command, 
 who came down in a fury. The captain, while talking to this Nero, 
 as I dubbed him, kept his hand on a loaded pistol lying on the table. 
 He asked the mate the cause of the terrific yells he heard. The an- 
 swer was: 
 
 "They will not obey me." 
 
 "Why not?" queried the captain very quietly. "Do you and my 
 other officers obey me?" 
 
 "Yes, we do; because we know our duty, and we do it." 
 
 "And one reason is, because I never swear at you, or knock you 
 down, and kick you when you are down," said the captain. 
 
 "No, sir," said Nero, "that would not do with me." 
 
 "Neither will it do with the sailors; treat them as I treat you, and 
 they will obey you. I want to hear no more of your cruelty." And 
 so the interview ended. 
 
 I missed from the deck a poor sailor whom I had noticed, with hol- 
 low cheeks, an^d sunken eyes, and swollen feet, who, when pulling a
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 339 
 
 rope, would often stop to cough; when Nero would most unfeelingly 
 roar out oaths at him, and call him by the ugliest of names. I found, 
 on inquiry, that he was sick in bed in the forecastle. I found my way 
 to the dark abode of the sailors, and to the sick man's bedside. I 
 found him very ill, without attention of any kind. A kit, with salt 
 junk and hard biscuit in it, was beside his bed. This was his share 
 of the dinner; but he could not eat it, nor had he eaten anything for 
 some time. I asked the poor man if he could eat soup; he thought he 
 could. I saved my soup at dinner time, and took it to him. I asked 
 him if no one came to see him. He said the second mate came every 
 now and then to curse him for a "lazy dog," and to order him up to 
 his work, or he would give him the rope's end. The poor fellow said : 
 
 "I can't get up." 
 
 He was evidently in the last stage of consumption, and when Nero 
 could not get the poor man on deck to work, he left him to die totally 
 neglected. I went twice a day to see the sick man. I talkfed to him 
 about his soul's interest. He was very much subdued, and wept. I 
 took him food, such as he could eat, and some delicacies. He was 
 getting weaker every day, and still no one but myself doing anything 
 for him. His mates had no time to stay with him. I had not told 
 any one of my expeditions to the forecastle. I did not think it neces- 
 sary to sound a trumpet before me ; but as he got worse, I asked Mrs. 
 Terril to go with me to see him. One day we were coming out of the 
 forecastle, when some tackling was let down, and struck Mrs. Terril 
 on the head, and made a cut which bled profusely. She was greatly 
 frightened when she found that the second mate had lowered the blocks 
 which struck her. The captain came to me that night, and asked me 
 if I took food to the man in the forecastle. I told him yes. He said 
 that I must not do it. I told him I only took my own food to him, 
 and the poor man enjoyed it. The captain said he would send the 
 man food from the table, and I need not carry it. 
 
 "Be it so," I said. 
 
 When I went in the afternoon to read and talk to the man, I found 
 he had not had anything to eat since I had carried some for him the 
 day before. At tea-time I asked the steward if he had taken to ilij; 
 sick man what the captain had ordered. 
 
 "No, I have not; Mr. Livingstone thinks he can eat what the others 
 eat." 
 
 I looked at the captain, who ordered some tea and light bread to be 
 sent forward at once. Tiie captain conducted me to my little parlor,
 
 240 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 sat down, and asked me in a rather taunting tone, why it was I took 
 such interest in a fellow whose sickness was all a sham; he did not 
 need my attention, and why did I trouble. I said I troubled, because 
 I found a man dying on board his ship, for whose body or soul neither 
 he nor his officers cared. Life was ebbing, and the poor man was en- 
 tirely neglected— had been starving till I took him nourishing food. 
 I said they were all hard hearted to let the poor soul pass away so ut- 
 terly neglected. I asked him how, in his extremity, he would like to 
 be so treated. I shall do all I can for him, though that may be little. 
 
 "Suppose," said the captain, "I forbid your going any more to the 
 forecastle. This is my ship; I am master." 
 
 "You can hinder my ministering to the dying sailor, because you are 
 master of the ship-, but as you are not my master, you can not hinder me, 
 when I arrive at Melbourne, from reporting to Mr. Lord, to whom the 
 ship is chartered, and the freight consigned, all the cruelties I have, 
 witnessed on board your ship. 
 
 "Come, come," said the captain, "you are taking it too seriously. 
 What can I do to prevent you going to the forecastle?" 
 
 "Death is no jest, and the poor man is dying. You believe your 
 officers that his sickness is a sham, and this is a shame. You do not 
 carry a doctor. Go to him, and judge for yourself, and see if he does 
 not need medicine to relieve his suffering; food to sustain his sinking 
 body, a nurse to wait on him, and a friend to help cheer him in the 
 dark valley through which he is passing." 
 
 The captain started up, and said: "I'll go to him at once;" and 
 he went, and soon returned, exclaiming, "Gracious king! the man is 
 worse than I thought; he must have medicine. I have told one of 
 the boys to stay with him, and from this night I shall take charge of 
 that poor fellow myself. Now will you promise me that you will not 
 go any more to the forecastle." 
 
 "Let me go once with you to take good-bye, and tell the poor man 
 that you will take better care of him than I could," 
 
 I saw him once more, and with tears in his eyes, the dying man 
 thanked me over and over again, and asked God to bless me for what 
 I had done for him. I left some tracts for the boy to read to him, and 
 told him to pray to Jesus himself, and he would save him if he believed 
 on him, and so I left him in tears. I felt sorry to say good-bye. Nero 
 one day, with a polite sneer, asked me if I thought the sailor would 
 4ie, I said I thought he was very ill. I asked him what he thought.
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. - , r 
 
 "Oh, I went to see him, and told him that nothing but reading the 
 Bible could do him any good now." 
 
 This was said with a most contemptuous sneer. I took no notice of 
 the sneer, but said: 
 
 •'As the poor man is not able to read now, will you be so kind as to 
 read a little of the Bible for him; it will do you both good." 
 
 I looked up into this hard man's face. He looked confused, not 
 expecting to be thus appealed to. 
 
 "I have no time," he said. 
 
 A few days after, Mrs. Terril and myself were on deck. I asked 
 the captain how the sick man was ? 
 
 "He is on deck," said the captain. 
 
 "Where?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "There, under the stars and stripes." 
 
 "I did not think he could get up or walk," I said. 
 
 "No," said the captain, "he had to be carried up; there he is," 
 pointing to the dead man as he lay on deck waiting for burial, covered 
 with the flag of the United States for a pall. 
 
 A few of his mates lifted him up, and placed his feet on the gang- 
 way. Nero, at the head of the corpse, his own head uncovered, read 
 a short service for the dead from a prayer-book. His mien was sol- 
 emn. What were his thoughts when the bier was tilted? And 
 
 "Down into the deep he sank alone, 
 Unknelled, uncoffined and unknown.' 
 
 A little thing sometimes creates an excitement. Our first mate 
 caught a great porpoise. The animal is well named, "sea-hog." It 
 has a long snout, not unlike that of a land hog. It is a mammal. It 
 was cooked, and the liver was by some considered quite a delicacy; I 
 did not like it. 
 
 A ludicrous scene took place one day. We had been having fine 
 weather, but the breezes were freshening. We all sat down to dinner. 
 The unwieldy Irish woman was opposite to me, and the man and 
 woman with diamonds were on the same side. Mr. and Mrs. Terril 
 were on my side, the captain at the head, the first mate at the foot of 
 the table. Our meals were always silent, or nearly so, the parties not 
 being congenial. We were all waiting in solemn silence for the cap- 
 tain to serve the soup, which he was doing, when quite unexpectedly 
 the ship gave a tremendous lurch to leeward. The thr^e who .sat 
 opposite to me fell backwards, and all clutched at the tablc-clolh to
 
 342 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 save themselves. They drew it and everything on it after them, they 
 did not know where. To save myself from falling and sliding under 
 the table, I leaned over and took hold of a dish of hash, and burned 
 my fingers. What an uproar! Knives, forks, plates, dishes, meat, 
 soup, hash, vegetables, all flying and smashing up pell-mell, in the 
 midst of which, groans, screams and oaths could be heard. 
 
 "Och, och, I am kilt intirely," came from behind a pair of feet 
 high in the air, covered with the table-cloth. 
 
 The lady of the Green Isle was sitting on the tilted seat, her head 
 bent, and her heels high up, without the power to move her unwieldy 
 bulk. I laughed outright, though my fingers were severely scalded, 
 my dress destroyed and my dinner lost. The old lady was extricated 
 from her dangerous position, with many an *'och, och." Her great 
 weight, when the vessel careened, drew the long screws which fastened 
 the seat out of the floor. The captain was mad as a hornet, but it 
 was of no use; we escaped very well. 
 
 When we got into thq trade winds, our ship dashed on with the 
 furious speed of a war-horse; not content to ride the waves, she 
 seemed to jump over them. We could not sit at the table; everything 
 was pitched thither and hither. I sat on the floor of my little parlor, 
 held on to the leg of the table, and drank my soup, or my hash, or 
 Irish stew, out of a mug, and used my fingers for a knife and fork and 
 spoon. Everything and person were uproarious, but the winds and 
 weather were glorious; we were plunging on our course grandly. We 
 were finally worn out by the fair winds, but the captain would not 
 slacken sail an inch, so we tore on very uncomfortably, thanking God 
 at the same time that the winds were fair. 
 
 One night the wind went to sleep and woke up dead against 
 us. We looked aghast at one another; we did not expect this change. 
 The ship was soon divested of her flowing robes. She looked under 
 her bare poles like a skeleton. The tempest grew fierce and yet more 
 fierce, and wilder the wind blew, and darker grew the heavens, till we 
 were entirely enshrouded in gloom. For three days and nights we 
 saw neither sun, moon nor stars. The waves piled one on top of the 
 other, and rushed mountain high against our noble ship, but she 
 obeyed her helm, rose majestically to meet the foaming billows, and 
 rode over them. No observations were taken for several days, and 
 everybody was very quiet. At last the sun peeped out and cheered 
 our spirgs. Again we caught a fair wind, and were dashing on 
 through snow-white foam and golden sparkles, which left behind us a 
 long tract of shiny whiteness. The mate caught an albatross, which.
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 343 
 
 measured twelve feet from the tip of one wing to the tip of the other. 
 Six of these unwieldy creatures were diving after some chips that were 
 thrown out to them. We had fair winds, full sails and a flowing sea, 
 and all well, as we were nearing our destination. The captain was all 
 anxiety ; he had never sailed in these seas before, and before he knew 
 he ran his great ship too near to land, and had to "bout ship" in a hur- 
 ry. She swung round in obedience to her helm, and stood out to sea 
 again. It was well our great ship had plenty of sea-room, she could 
 not be penned up in a tight place. The charts were spread out and 
 consulted every few minutes, and everybody was on the tiptoe of ex- 
 pectation. We were at the entrance of Bass Strait, among sunken 
 rocks and other dangers. I was not in bed all night. We had been 
 losing ground and tacking about all day. We were all full of anxiety, 
 but no one was prepared for the terrific squall that struck our proud 
 ship aback. The captain shouted in tones of thunder, to the great 
 consternation of all on board. It was thought we had run foul of 
 Cape Otway. The ship gave a pitch, a heavy lurch, and down, down 
 she went on her beam-ends, and as I thought never to rise again. 
 Everything and everybody were turned topsy turvy, but the fearful 
 squall went down almost as suddenly as it rose. How many noble 
 ships have sunk in those seas from sunken rocks and sudden squalls. 
 
 At last the pilot anchored our grand ship in Hobson's Bay safe and 
 sound, though we had made some very narrow escapes from disaster. 
 The captain had every reason to be thankful when his prosperous voy- 
 age ended. His vessel was in "ship-shape trim;" he had lost neither 
 sail nor spar nor rope. We had no sickness, no deaths, except that of 
 the sailor who was sick when he came on board. I had been the sick- 
 est passenger. 
 
 A steamer came for all the passengers to land them. The captain 
 asked me to wait on board an hour or two, and when he went ashore 
 he would tell Mr. Lord that I was on board, and he would send for 
 me. I gave my letter of introduction to the captain to deliver. I 
 spent a long, wearisome day entirely alone in that great ship. The 
 crew were on board to be sure, but I thought that Mr. Lord and the 
 end of the day would never come. At last the captain came, and he 
 had forgotten to deliver my letter to Mr. Lord. I was greatly an- 
 noyed, but there was no help for it. Next morning the captain was 
 ready to go ashore, and told me he would not forget my letter that 
 day. I told him to wait a moment. I ran to my cabin, put my man- 
 tle and bonnet on, and came out ready to go ashore with him. He 
 said he could not possibly take me ashore with him. I said I did not
 
 344 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 wish liim to take me ashore with him, but I was going ashore all the 
 same, and I should hand my letter to Mr. Lord in my own proper 
 person. 
 
 "The stairway is not out." 
 
 "I shall climb down the side of the ship, for the boat that carries 
 you ashore takes me also. I would not stay another day on board the 
 ship for all that you could say." 
 
 "You are very decided," said the captain. 
 
 And the stairway was ordered to be put out, and I walked very 
 easily down into the boat, went ashore, and was warmly received by 
 Mr. Lord at his office; but he asked me why I did not send for him, 
 and he would have brought his own boat for me. I told him of the 
 captain's forgetfulness the day before, and I could not trust him again, 
 so came with him. Mr. Lord laughed, and said I did well. He took 
 me to his beautiful home at St. Kilda, and gave me in charge of his 
 wife, who heaped kindnesses on me. They had friends to meet me 
 at a dinner party who were from America. This truly elegant and 
 hospitable family wished me to remain and rest with them after 
 my long voyage, but I was not at the end of my journey yet. Every 
 attention and kindness were given me. Mr. and Mrs. Lord accom- 
 panied me on board the great Sebastian Cabot, where I said good-bye 
 to all the officers and crew. The captain joined us, and took us on 
 board the ship that was to take me to Sydney, and another boat fol- 
 lowed with my trunks. Here I said good-bye to my kind host and 
 hostess, and the captain, who was the last link that bound me to the 
 land I loved. He had seen and spoken to loved friends there; he had 
 brought me here, and parting with him seemed to cut me loose from 
 every tie. God bless him and those to whom he is returning, was my 
 prayer. As soon as the ship moved out of Port Philip I was sea-sick. 
 I was in bed till we reached Botany Bay, when I rose to look at the 
 place which had once so nearly proved fatal to our good ship Portland, 
 and which had wrecked many a noble ship when near her port. I shud- 
 dered as I looked at the proud promentory, with its gigantic head 
 looming above the deep water that lashed its base, looking defiance 
 at wind and waves. As we approached Sydney Heads, a spot was 
 pointed out to me where over four hundred souls found a watery grave 
 a few days before. A noble ship had struck the rocks, foundered, and 
 all but one man perished. This is a rocky, relentless and dangerous 
 coast. We steamed through between the Heads, or Sea-gates, in safe- 
 ty, and entered Port Jackson, one of the most beautiful harbors in the 
 world, named for the man who, on board Captain Cook's ship, dis-
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES. 
 
 345 
 
 covered the inlet, at that time thought to be too insignificant for notice. 
 This beautiful expanse of water, with its lake-like scenery stretching 
 away eight or ten miles inland, is one of the embellishments of the 
 world. The bold coast fronting the Pacific Ocean is suddenly broken, 
 and the great cliffs form a portal to an estuary, with an enormous 
 extent of shore line, capacious enough to shelter the navies of the world. 
 So completely is the harbor hidden, that until an entrance is fairly 
 effected its capacity and safety can not be conjectured. A vessel in a 
 few moments sails out of the swell of the ocean into calm, deep water, 
 protected on every side by high lands. The elevated shore is broken 
 into innumerable bays and inlets. Some of these bays or inlets extend 
 into the lands for miles, and afford large capacity for harborage. The 
 bosom of the whole is dotted over with picturesque islands, which 
 form no impediment to navigation. The depth of the water every- 
 where is sufficient for the largest ships afloat. As we steamed up the 
 harbor everything was quiet and calm in the moonlight. It was late, 
 and I was in a flutter of excitement. 
 
 I landed in Sydney February, 1858. I was very sick, but full of 
 hope. In vain I looked for some one to meet me; they surely knew 
 that I was coming, but still I looked in vain, till all the hacks and vehi- 
 cles for hire were gone. I could get nothing to carry me, and I was 
 very anxious to see my sister, to serve whom I had dared the dangers 
 of the deep, and traveled half round the globe. So I inquired my way 
 to Woolloomooloo, where she lived, and finished my long journey by 
 walking two miles, to meet what? One of the direst disappointments 
 that was possible to fall to my lot. The billows of disappointment 
 rolled over me with crushing weight, and nothing but the grace of God 
 could have saved me from despair. I had believed a lie, and acted 
 upon the belief of it. My trust had been repaid with treachery, and 
 yet my heart was throwing out its tendrils to grasp at something, but 
 all was a crumbling ruin. All my hopes and aspirations trampled 
 under foot; no friendly voice bade me welcome. There was no haven 
 of rest for the weary dove. My frail little bark had breasted the bil- 
 lows bravely, and rode the storm, for hope sat at the helm. But as the 
 noble ship in sight of her haven was wrecked, so it was with me. In 
 sight of what was to be my home, my hopes were dashed against the 
 ruthless rocks of disappointment, and sunk. God must in his wisdom 
 have had some design in allowing me to be so mercilessly deceived, 
 and so treacherously dealt with. I would draw a veil over my recep- 
 tion and welcome; but were I to do so entirely, my sufferings could 
 not be understood. I was bewildered at the strangeness of all I saw.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MY RECEPTION. 
 
 With a heart full of love, and beating loud with anticipation of a 
 warm and affectionate welcome, I entered the dwelling of my sister 
 sick and weary, but hopeful and happy. The long separated sisters 
 
 met, and what a meeting. Had I been an apparition, Mrs. W 
 
 could not have appeared more horrified. After a long stare at me, she 
 broke out into a long wail that pierced my heart. I leaned upon a 
 table for support; I was filled with a feeling of dismay. My brother- 
 in-law came smiling, and swore a great oath, and said : 
 
 "I am glad we managed to bring you back at last; you were too 
 long in America." 
 
 My ears were assailed with a tirade against America, Americans, 
 religion and religionists. I was astounded and shocked at what I heard 
 and saw. I was not able to stand on my feet any longer. I asked if 
 I might sit down; my bonnet was still on my head. When I sat down, 
 I mentally asked God, in agony of spirit, was it for this I had given 
 up all that was most precious, and left all that was most dear to my 
 heart? The plans of usefulness that I had marked out for myself, I 
 had been nursing and maturing for months, ready to put in practice as 
 soon as possible, all blotted out in bitter tears in the very first hour 
 of my arrival. I asked to be taken to my room, where I could weep 
 unseen. Late as was the hour, neighbors and acquaintances had been 
 apprised of my arrival, and had come to stare at me, and smile with 
 the heartless pair, seeming to glory in my misery. While they 
 were reveling downstairs, I was sobbing my heart out upstairs, and 
 crying to God to give me grace to bear this new and unexpected bur- 
 den. Oh, how hard to bear! In myself I had no strength, mental or 
 physical, to stem this great tide of evil that had set in against me. I 
 cried with all my might for God to deliver me. 
 
 I looked back on all the way I had come. I searched my heart to 
 see if I had thought, or said, or done anything to cause or to deserve 
 this great calamity. My conscience did not reproach me for coming, 
 for I had made it a matter of prayer to God to direct me in the path of 
 
 (346)
 
 MY RECEPTION. 
 
 347 
 
 duty, and I had been led in the way I knew not. I did not re^^ret 
 going to that country, though trouble and sorrow attended the step. 
 All I could do was to ask God for grace, mercy and patience, and this 
 I did continually. The home I had expected to find, the spot I had 
 expected to be a radiating center of great usefulness, did not exist. I 
 was not allowed to teach the children; when they were with me, they 
 were called away with oaths by their profane father. I reasoned with 
 him on his profanity, but to no purpose; he cursed religion and its ad- 
 vocates. I asked him what he wished me to do, now that I had come 
 to them. I may not pen the insulting language he used. He had 
 been to the gold mines of California, and with the gold he gathered, 
 he culled the worst vices of the worst men amongst the miners. He 
 was a profane and dissipated gambler, and though they had a hand- 
 some property, Mr. W was rushing at a mad rate on the broad 
 
 road to ruin. Through weary days and nights, I spent a sick and sor- 
 rowful time. My spirit crushed, and my life ebbing, I was laid low 
 for a time. The great kindness and consideration of the friends at 
 Melbourne presented a decided contrast to the treatment I was now 
 receiving from relatives. I was a fair target for the malicious remarks 
 of the selfish man, whose speech, intermingled with profanity, sent a 
 chill to my heart, whose coarse jest and brutal sneer fell upon my ear 
 with cutting sharpness. I had to bear the crushing weight of my grief 
 
 unshared, for Mrs. W was so accustomed to such conduct from 
 
 her husband, that she did not feel it or care for it, and made light of it 
 — said I took it too much to heart. She waa as heartless as he was. She 
 thought I ought to be thankful that they gave me a shelter over my 
 head. I said mere shelter is not home. Home without hearts is no 
 home. I had hoped to find a home, where was peace, and harmony, 
 and love; but my hopes were shipwrecked. I determined not to be- 
 moan the evil they had done me, but to serve them in some way if I 
 could. I had been urging upon the father the importance of bringing 
 up the children in the way they should go, and training them for eter- 
 nity, as well as for time, and I asked him to set a better examjjle to them. 
 He turned all I said into ridicule, and coarsely and jeeringly said: 
 "Had I seen you before I saw my wife, I would have had you." 
 "Mean, contemjjtible wretch, do you supjjose for a moment that 
 you would have had a choice? I scorn you; I only needed this to 
 fill up the cup of loathing with which I loathe you. The only thing I 
 ever saw in you to admire was your devotion to your wife and children; 
 but in this, as in everything else, I have been deceived."
 
 348 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The creature complimented himself, that he had never offered me 
 personal violence. 
 
 "This," I said, "you dare not do." 
 
 No word of explanation could I obtain from this pair why they had 
 so misled me by their false statements, to cause me to leave a happy 
 home, friends, and everything that my heart held sacred, to strew 
 thorns in my path, and mock and insult me in the sorrow they had 
 caused. They had no sympathy for my friendships, my church privi- 
 leges, my sphere of usefulness, my everything I valued, and left for 
 them. I hoped God, in whom I trusted, would bring me out of my 
 deep distress. My way was dark; I was enveloped in clouds, thick 
 and heavy. I could not see one step before me. 
 
 I heard of a small number of disciples who met at Newtown, a few 
 miles from Sydney. I found my way out there one Lord's day, and 
 
 at the house of Mr. K I found ten or twelve persons who partook 
 
 of the Lord's Supper. I introduced myself to them by showing Mr. 
 Campbell's letter. All were curious to see his chirography. They had 
 heard of him through Mr. Wallis and Mr. King, of England. They 
 were delighted to ask, and be answered, questions about a man whom 
 they had heard of, but of whom they knew nothing. They called 
 themselves "Campbellites," and gloried in the name. They called 
 themselves "Primitive Christians" also, and they were primitive 
 enough; they were forty years behind the times. They had Sweden- 
 borgians, and soul-sleepers, and those who believed in the annihilation 
 of the soul after death among them. They also had those who did not 
 believe in paying a preacher, nor in building a house to worship God 
 in, nor in having family worship. 
 
 It appeared to me that they did not take the Bible, the whole Bible, 
 and nothing but the Bible, for their rule of conduct. After supper they 
 exhorted one another, and exhorted others to believe their theories. 
 They made no converts from the world. They agreed to disagree on 
 many points, but they were one in abusing the sects, and drawing 
 down upon themselves the contumely of the whole community, not 
 undeservedly. They were as a body despised; but not for Christ's 
 sake, as they wished to believe, but for the manner in which they 
 abused all denominations of people. I was told, though I had conie 
 from the headquarters of the present reformation, I had much to learn 
 if I did not believe in the destruction of the soul after death. Sweden- 
 borg was held up to me as a model. I was asked to read their differ- 
 ent kinds of books. I said I had the Bible ; I needed no other to
 
 MY RECEPTION. 
 
 349 
 
 guide me heavenward. They were anxious to discuss these matters 
 with me, but I told them I was no debater. I had come to hear the 
 gospel preached, and not men's theories, and if I could not enjoy this 
 privilege, I should go elsewhere. They could not refrain from preach- 
 ing their soul-sleeping doctrines at me, so I had to refrain from going 
 to hear such teaching. They did not succeed in making me a con- 
 vert, though they tried. I had hoped to make myself useful in the 
 Sunday-school, but they had none. 
 
 I liked the members of this little church individually; they were 
 mostly poor people, but of good moral character; but as a church, I 
 could not join them. No spiritual home for me. 
 
 "Like Noah's weary dove, 
 
 That roved the earth around; 
 But not a resting-place above, 
 The cheerless waters found." 
 
 I asked to be taken to my mother's grave. Other graves I also 
 wished to see, and I thought a visit to the city of the dead might calm 
 my troubled mind; but the visit failed to have the desired effect. 
 Faint and feeble were my steps, as I wandered about looking at the 
 tombstones. When I found the little mound of earth, under which 
 lay the ashes of what had once been my mother, all was forgotten, all 
 was forgiven; nothing but my great love I had for her remained, and 
 this love I wished to transfer to my sister. My flood of kindly love 
 was met and thrown back by treachery and deception and cruel mock- 
 ing at my distress. As I sat on my mother's grave, I thought all the 
 ills of life were concentrated on my heart, and I felt as if that poor 
 heart would burst. I had five heart spasms in as many weeks. I felt 
 as if death only coul(f relieve the physical sufferings induced by men- 
 tal agony. As I lay on my bed the next night, pondering the dark 
 
 ways of Providence, I heard the profane oaths of Mr. W , as he 
 
 stamped upstairs to his room. My room was on the opposite side of 
 the landing. He stumbled into it, saying, with an ugly oath, he 
 would show me whether he dared to offer me any personal violence in 
 his own house. I saw something in his hand as he passed the win- 
 dow. I thought my situation perilous. I sprang from my bed, took 
 hold of my clothes, walked quietly out of the room and downstairs, 
 wrapped some garments around me, and ran out of the house that I 
 had thought was to shelter me for life. I fled from it in haste and fear. 
 I ran unmindful where. I only felt I must get as far away from the
 
 350 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 house as possible. I paused, through sheer fatigue and weakness, to 
 regain a Httle strength. I looked up to the quiet sky, and said : 
 
 "Father, again am I cast out a homeless stranger, moneyless, friend- 
 less and alone, in a land steeped in iniquity." 
 
 I had been kept in torturing suspense; what I feared most had 
 come. I was surrounded on all sides by danger. My soul sank al- 
 most to despair. I could not stand where I was, so I moved on with 
 my spirit in the dust. I wondered if God had forsaken me. Oh, the 
 dark distrust of that hour. Out of the depths, I cried: 
 
 "Save Lord, or I perish." 
 
 The still, small voice whispered, "I will never leave thee nor for- 
 sake thee." 
 
 I wandered on till I came to the house of a widow lady, who had 
 been, at my request in times gone by, kindly treated by my mother, 
 when she was a stranger in the colony. I feared to ring her bell to 
 ask for shelter for the night, she might do as my own had done ; and 
 I was afraid to be on the street all night. I asked God to give me 
 courage to ring the bell. I gave one spasmodic pull at the door-bell, 
 which caused Mrs. J to raise her window in some alarm, and ask, 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 I answered very feebly; she knew my voice, and ran down, opened 
 the door herself, and caught me fainting in her arms. I was taken 
 upstairs, and she said : 
 
 "Something has happened to send you here at this time of the night, 
 but while I have a home, it and my heart will always be open for you. 
 So you see when one door closes another opens." 
 
 I cried most bitterly all night, and exclaimed, 
 
 "Why is it that every one but my own are, and ever have been, 
 kind to me?" 
 
 My soul was low-sunk beneath the heavy load, and my heart was 
 dying with grief, and my bodily strength had not returned. What was 
 I to do ? What could I do ? I wrote to Mr. Watts, and told him if 
 his ship was in Sydney harbor instead of Port Philip that I would re- 
 turn to the States with him. He wrote by return mail a very kind 
 letter, saying he would gladly give me a free passage back to the 
 States, as he had said once in a joke, now he tendered it in earnest; 
 if I could meet him at New Zealand, he would stop there on his way 
 across the Pacific Ocean to Peru, and he would take me safely home 
 again. He was to leave Melbourne the day after he wrote. Here 
 was an opportunity to return to the loved friends I had left, but I had
 
 MY RECEPTION. 35 1 
 
 no money to take me to New Zealand. I wrote to Mr. Edmunds to 
 send me money. I wrote to Mr. Lord to say that I had met with 
 disappointment; I was too much mortified to tell him what. He at 
 once wrote a kind letter, sympathizing with me in my disappointment, 
 saying he would do everything in his power for me, and to let him 
 know what he could do. He kindly and thoughtfully inclosed two 
 letters of introduction, one to the American Consul, the other to the 
 ex-American Consul, a wealthy merchant in Sydney. These letters 
 were opportune, as I might exert myself in the interests of the Amer- 
 ican Bible Union till my mind could settle on what course I could 
 pursue, I presented my letters, was well and kindly received, and was 
 promised all the aid possible in introducing the new translation of the 
 Scriptures into the colony. Mrs. Williams, the young and beautiful 
 wife of the ex-American Consul, came to see me, and invited me 
 to spend a week with her, or a month if it were convenient to me. 
 While I was her guest, she lavished great kindness on me. She gave 
 a dinner party that was purely American, that I might feel at home. 
 All the ship-masters in port, with their wives and some American 
 merchants, were there. The American ladies were all dressed ele- 
 gantly and in good taste, to the great admiration of our beautiful host- 
 ess, who said our style of dress was very superior to theirs. She 
 adopted our style, as she called it. I gave her patterns of various 
 dresses, which gratified her very much. These little amenities cost 
 nothing. 
 
 I had told Mr. Williams and the Consul to look out for a ship diat 
 was going direct to the States, as I wished to return the first oppor- 
 tunity. While waiting, however, I wished to interest the wealthy, 
 the erudite and those in high places, in the great work of revision. 
 Money, criticisms and influence were all needed to forward the great 
 work. While having introductions to the great scholars and men of 
 wealth, and mingling with the best classes of society, I had no home, 
 no money, no bread. I had a fine wardrobe and library, that was all. 
 Did those wlio caressed me most as an elegant American lady but 
 know the heavy load of grief I carried under a pleasant manner, the 
 -Bible Union would have suffered. Sol bore my own burden, and 
 carried my own sorrow, and poured into the ear of God alone all my 
 troubles and difficulties, and from him asked help in my time of need. 
 I prayed for fortitude to take root in my heart, that mentally and phys- 
 ically I might grow stronger, to be able to stem the torrent that was 
 against me. A cheerful manner was the silvery veil tliat concealed
 
 352 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the sad emotions of my heart. The more cheerful the manifestations, 
 the deeper the sorrow. The veil, however, checked the penetrating, 
 cold, iinsympathizing glances, and caused them to rest on the bright- 
 ness visible, which concealed from view the way I was upheld in the 
 performance of a bitter task. "A reined tongue and a bursting heart 
 are hard at once to bear." 
 
 At the house of a well-to-do merchant, I was an honored and wel- 
 come guest. He had taken a slight interest in the Bible revision. I 
 hoped the interest would increase. I was in their handsomely furn- 
 ished parlor up-stairs one day (they lived on the business premises till 
 
 their country residence was finished), when Mr. P came in, in a 
 
 hurry, with a bonnet in his hand, saying the milliners were all at dinner, 
 and this bonnet had to be trimmed and sent off by the train in a short 
 time, and there was not a person on the premises who could trim it. 
 
 "Let me try;" I said. 
 
 He threw it down, not thinking I had fingers deft enough to trim a 
 bonnet. I trimmed and sent it down to him, and he came back loud 
 in his praises of the taste and style of the work. I was in pressing 
 need of money. The widow at whose board I was always welcome 
 had a family to support on a small income, and I felt that I ought to 
 pay for the bread I ate ; but money I had none. I was willing to 
 work at anything my hands found to do; but where could I find work 
 to do? I bethought me of the bonnet, and the large establishment of 
 my new acquaintance. I at once went to their house, where smiles 
 and a glad welcome always met me. I approached my business with 
 great timidity; they knew not my necessitous condition, or I would 
 
 not have been so welcome. I asked Mr. P if he could give a 
 
 lady a little of the surplus work of his large house; she was in need 
 of money, and she would do her work well, for she desired to earn 
 the money. He burst out into a mocking laugh, and said : 
 
 "I trust none of your poor ladies. I want none of them to work 
 for me; they are nothing but impostors, all of them. Don't you have 
 anything to do with them. The poor ladies! What makes them 
 poor ? As a rule, they are doubtful characters. I advise you not to 
 let any of them. impose on you." 
 
 Great Father, why was I made with a soul so sensitive ? I shrank 
 farther and farther into myself. I was glad I had not spoken of my 
 wants. The very best this house could provide was not good enough 
 for me ; they lavished their good things on me, because they thought 
 I needed nothing. Had they thought that I wished to earn my bread
 
 MY RECEPTION. 353 
 
 honestly in the sight of all men, I should have fallen below par in 
 their esteem. What false views of life some people have. Daily I 
 looked in the papers to see if there were any "wants" that I could 
 supply. I was willing to work at anything I was able to do, anything 
 rather than eat any one's bread for nothing. Paul tells us, "If any 
 will not work, neither shall he eat." 
 
 "Six girls wanted to prepare work for a machine." Surely I can do 
 this. I went to the house, and inquired for the foreman, who came 
 smiling and bowing. 
 
 "What can I do for you, madam?" 
 
 ' 'You want persons to prepare work for a machine ? Will you give 
 me a portion of it to prepare? I shall try to do it well." 
 
 "What!" said the man with a broad stare at me. "Do you want 
 the work for yourself?" 
 
 I said "yes," in a faint voice. 
 
 "Oh, no; we can not employ you; we want poor persons." 
 
 The words nearly choked me, when I said, "Sir, I am poor; I need 
 work. Will you give me some if you can?" 
 
 He looked at me harder than ever, and said very deliberately : 
 
 "We can not possibly place a lady of your style of dress and aadrese 
 with our employees." 
 
 I bowed; I could not speak. I felt as if I could never get out of 
 that man's sight; my knees trembled; I was faint and sick, I could 
 hardly walk. Did that man think that I was an impostor? Did he 
 think I had a doubtful character? My style of dress was simple, and 
 my address humble, yet both were objected to. "God help me," I 
 cried; "I have a heavy load to carry, and a fierce battle to fight." 
 My courage seemed to wane. I feared to look at a man who had the 
 least suspicion of me in any way. "Down in the deep and hidden 
 chambers of the heart many a fierce battle is fought, unseen by the eye 
 of mortal; but God sees and watches the combat on the broad plains 
 of conscience, though we can not always realize the fact." A sparrow 
 can not fall to the groind without his knowledge. And if duty be vic- 
 tor, he approves if we are even wounded in our mortal conflicts. I 
 sought work of various kinds carefully, and with tears and prayers, but 
 could find none. 
 
 I told Mr. P , that if I returned to America, I had a choice col- 
 lection of books that I should dispose of to the highest bidder. H^ 
 b«came the purchaser of over eighty volumes of my largest works. I 
 pK^tcd with my books as a last resource for bread. I met a gentleman 
 
 r 22
 
 354 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 from Illawarra, a country district, who became interested in the New 
 Revision at this house, and he gave me a pressing invitation to go to 
 Illawarra. He promised, if I went, that he would do all he could for 
 the work. Out of the money I got for my books, and I got a good 
 price for them — "men help thee most who think thou hast no need" — 
 I was able to pay my passage to Illawarra. It lay on the Pacific Coast, 
 one hundred miles south of Sydney. At Kiama, a beautifully situated 
 town, the port of the large and important district, I landed, and was 
 
 met by Mr. M , with a horse and side-saddle. I mounted, and 
 
 rode with him to the top of an exceeding high mountain, where he had 
 perched his house, and called it "Mount Joy." I was received by his 
 pleasant wife very cordially. 
 
 As I said, I ro5e to the top of Mount Joy, which was away up in 
 the clouds, and had a splendid outlook from it. I had a great many 
 callers to see me, and when I returned the calls, I presented the claims 
 of the American Bible Union. I showed specimens of the New Transla- 
 tion, and various other works of the union. I had bought a full supply 
 of Mr, Campbell's works, and I introduced them by lending some, and 
 some^I gave away. I found a few wealthy, intelligent men who seemed 
 to like Mr. Campbell's debates, and gave me orders to send for a sup- 
 ply for them. This I gladly consented to do. I thought a little leaven 
 of Christianity might leaven a large lump of the bigoted, ritualistic 
 Episcopalians; the stiff and proud Presbyterians; the bitter, biting 
 Methodists, and the liberal Independents, all of whom were represented 
 in the beautiful town of Kiama. People came to this place on Lord's 
 days from great distances to worship in their different houses. 
 
 I had an invitation to visit "Omega Retreat," the name of Mr. 
 
 G 's estate at an early day. Mr. G was Mrs. M 's father, 
 
 a great land owner, and very wealthy. A note in my journal says; 
 "The old gentleman is handsome, tall, of commanding presence, and 
 well proportioned. He is highly educated, as he had been prepared 
 for the Presbyterian pulpit, not far from where Mr. Campbell was 
 borne, in Ireland, and in outward appearance he was not unlike Mr. 
 
 Campbell." Mrs. G was a perfect lady, and a good Episcopalian, 
 
 and her husband's senior a decade of years. She was low in stature, 
 not prepossessing in her appearance, but pleasant and gentle in her man- 
 ners. They were very cordial to me. Their only son, W , was a 
 
 bachelor, between thirty and forty years of age, with his father's hand- 
 some features, and his mother's low stature. He was gross and coarse 
 and egotistical, though somewhat cultivated in manner. He was very
 
 MY RECEPTIOX. -jrc 
 
 wealthy, and this made him popular with the country belles, conse- 
 qufriitly, he had only to ask a feminine to marry him, and she must 
 feel honored by his choice, and would gladly accept him. So the litde 
 man thought. His father, mother and sister thought no one in the 
 
 district was good enough for their dear W . They preferred for 
 
 him a lady whose mind was cultivated, and whose manners were re- 
 fined. He was the only son, and the family idol. 
 
 The father and mother took a great liking to me. I was pleased at 
 their so doing; I thought I would succeed in my mission all the better. 
 At their urgent request, I consented to be their guest as long as I 
 
 stayed in the district. Mr. G , being a classical scholar, I hoped 
 
 he would take an interest in the work of revision. In this I mistook 
 him, for the Bible had no interest for him; the only interest he cared 
 for was his dividends. He was renegade to his principles, and boasted 
 in infidelity. This fact made me think very differently of the old man, 
 though his attentions to me were very great. The farmers everywhere 
 for a great distance round were his tenants; his rent roll was very large. 
 The old gentleman took me many a little excursion of pleasure, to see 
 the different places of interest in this most beautiful locality. On re- 
 turning one day from the beach, where the great rolling waves of the 
 Pacific had been working wonders among the cliffs, we stopped at one 
 of the farm-houses. On the veranda stood a girl of about ten or 
 twelve years old, her arms and legs bare to the shoulders and knees, 
 which were beautifully formed, and twined in a most graceful fashion 
 round one of the posts, her beautiful head leaning on her arms. I 
 
 stood and admired the picture. Mr. G spoke to her, and her 
 
 rich Irish brogue sounded pleasandy. I turned to Mr. G , and said : 
 
 "I should like to teach that girl; there is something in her." 
 
 "Honey dear" (this was a favorite expression of his), "that would 
 never do; she is but a poor, ignorant, Irish girl." 
 
 "That is one reason why I should like to teach her, and see what 
 could be made out of this piece of ignorance. I should like to have a 
 score of just such; they might wield an influence for good in this 
 district." 
 
 "I could not think of seeing you in a school-room teaching a lot of 
 little ragamuffins, so ignorant they would not know how to behave 
 themselves." 
 
 "You are providing me widi good reasons for wishing to teach these 
 ragamuffins."
 
 356 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Mr. G told his wife and son of my chimerical idea. Mrs. G 
 
 said : 
 
 "My dear, it is very kind and charitable to wish to teach these poor 
 children, but let some with coarser minds and rougher hands, and 
 those accustomed to hard work, take up the job; it is not fit for you." 
 
 "Charitable, but chimerical. It won't do; you are too much of a 
 lady to enter such a sphere," said Mr. W . 
 
 I felt inclined to ask them to define the word lady. Had they known 
 its true significance, they would not have thought I was out of my 
 sphere in trying to dispense the bread of life and knowledge to the 
 poor and ignorant. But the education of the ignorant was to be in- 
 trusted to the coarse and the rough. I was made to feel that in this 
 district culture and refinement were out of place in a school-room. 
 
 "You can do better than teach. You might marry a rich man, a 
 rich man's only son. Who knows, but I might have you myself," 
 W said. 
 
 I turned aside his coarse joke by saying, I purposed returning to 
 America the first opportunity that I had to do so. Meantime, while 
 waiting for that opportunity, I had a great desire to teach, if I could 
 raise a school. I liked the country, and I had taken a great fancy to 
 that Irish girl. 
 
 I said everything was charming to the eye — the climate salubrious, 
 the vegetation intertropical, the scenery magnificent — and why should 
 a population be reared in the midst of so much beauty as ignorant as the 
 ornithorhyncus that swam in their streams and burrowed in the earth. 
 I can not consent to be idle one day if I can get a school, so I hope, if 
 you have not predetermined that your tenants' children shall remain in 
 ignorance, that you will help me to get up a school, for a few months 
 at least. He said there was not a place on all his land where a school 
 could be kept, save in an old slab hut on the side of Mount Pleasant, 
 and it was very much dilapidated, and not fit for use. I said I should 
 like to try it, I felt a decided preference to teach the poor, ignorant 
 children, than to wait in idleness, to be chosen to be "the wife of a 
 rich man, a rich man's only son." 
 
 A swift messenger was sent to summon all the tenants to meet their 
 landlord at the hut on the hillside. They came at the time appointed, 
 a motley group of men in shirt-sleeves, dirty, and hair uncombed, redo- 
 lent of the stockyard and pig-sty. Mr. G stood up at the end of 
 
 a large room that had several large holes in the floor, and several piles 
 of ashes, rags and dirt to stumble over, or kick through, and said :
 
 MY RECEPTION. 
 
 357 
 
 "Here is a lady who has come from America. She is going to stay 
 in the district some time, and she would like to open a school if you 
 will send your children. What say you ?" 
 
 "Och, thin, I think it a great honor that such a lady shud tache 
 our childer." 
 
 "Sir," said another- Pat, "shure the lady can't stay heres 'lone in 
 this hut." Turning to me, he said: "Shure yees can't." 
 
 I smiled at the idea of their mentioning such a thing as stayiiig 
 alone, but I answered : 
 
 "Certainly not, and if I could stay alone, it should not be in such 
 a tumbled-down hut as this." 
 
 These men, dirty as pigs and ignorant as mules, were of the lowest 
 order of Irish. These were my patrons-elect. One of them was showing 
 off his "larnin," by telling another that the sun went round the world. 
 I corrected them, and said the world went round the sun. They 
 gaped at me, open-mouthed, when I said that. They all said they 
 were glad to have me come among them. They all promised to set 
 to work and get the hut put in good order by the time I should go to 
 Sydney for my trunks and return to commence work among their 
 children. As they passed out, some of them Dulled their forelocks, 
 and some said : 
 
 "Wees glad yees cumed among us." 
 
 In the gloaming, I was sitting alone in Mrs. G 's parlor, with- 
 out lights, in front of a wood-fire, my feet on the fender; and as I 
 watched the flickering flame of the dying embers, I fell into a reverie. 
 Unpleasant thoughts intruded themselves unbidden, and would not be 
 thrust out. An unheard voice vibrated through my brain, whispering, 
 "Do not take up your abode here." I looked round; drooping day- 
 light had faded into night. Her sable mantle had cast everything into 
 deep shadow. I was not superstitious, but I felt myself in the pres- 
 ence of a higher power than anything earthly, and I listened to my 
 busy soul with her boding murmurs. A few hours before, I had drawn 
 myself up with something akin to indignation at the idea of living 
 alone in the ruined hut on the hillside. The idea of living at the 
 houses of any of the men I had seen was too shocking to be thought 
 of for a moment. Some had suggested that I should stay at their 
 houses week about. I was thankful to Mr. G when he said: 
 
 "No, no; this lady stays at our house, she has a room there; both 
 Mrs. G and myself will be only too happy to have her society." 
 
 After this I breathed more freely. We came home, and I began to
 
 258 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ponder all that I heard that day in my heart. My brown study was 
 
 interrupted by W calling me to come to tea. At tlie table I was 
 
 absent-minded. 
 
 "Honey dear," said Mr. G , "what is the matter?" 
 
 I gave a little start, and apologized, and said nothing was the mat- 
 ter, only I had changed my mind. Both father and son exclaimed, 
 "I am glad of it. Teaching is not what you ought to do." 
 "But," I said, "I still intend to teach, only I change my residence 
 from this house to the hut, where I now purpose to live." 
 
 They all stared at me and said: "Impossible; you can not do it." 
 "I shall try it," I said, "and if I can not live there I shall leave. 
 All I now ask is, that you put the hut in habitable order, and in two 
 weeks I shall return ready for work." 
 
 Mr. G said: "If we once let you go to Sydney you will not 
 
 come back to us." 
 
 "My word is given to you; I shall return if all is well." 
 
 I was asked why I wished to live at the hut when I had such a 
 
 comfortable home where I was. I said, because I thought it was best. 
 
 Humanly speaking, and to all outward seeming, it was not for the 
 
 best. I did not know the people in the midst of whom I was to live, 
 
 nor could I associate with the specimens I saw. Mr. G 's family 
 
 was the only one I could associate with, and they were anxious and 
 willing that I should live in comfort at their house, and why not live 
 at the big house and receive all the prestige from it they were willing 
 to bestow. My actions seemed unwise in the eyes of the worldly ; 
 but I felt the power of the still, small voice which had said, "Do not 
 take up your abode here," and I obeyed the warning. Subsequent 
 events justified the step; at least I thought so. 
 
 I had received numerous orders for books, and had written for 
 them. I had great opposition in introducing them, but I persevered. 
 When I returned to Sydney, I had to sell my little sewing-machine 
 and some of the fine dresses that I bought at New York. With this 
 money I purchased some provisions and some furniture to take with 
 me. I had everything packed up and ready to start on another jour- 
 ney, when letters from loved friends arrived from America. They had 
 been written before I left America, but they were welcome all the same. 
 One long, long letter was from Mr. Gano, full of love and sympathy, 
 and encouragement to hold out faithful. Prayers and blessings were 
 breathed in every line. He finished with,
 
 MY RECEPTION. 350 
 
 • * * "My dear sister, we miss you much, very much indeed. Your 
 cheerful and pleasant society ; your interesting, improving and instructive con- 
 verse ; your kind and efficient assistance in the care, instruction, management and 
 most excellent training of the children. Often Catherine and I wish you were 
 back with us, to live with us while we live. • * * And now, dear sister, let 
 me express my gratitude to you for all the proofs of kind regards you have shown 
 to me and mine. May our gracious heavenly Father, through our Lord and 
 Savior, guide, guard and bless you, and make you a blessing. Catherine and 
 a host of others send love, etc. Yours in Christ, John A. Gano. 
 
 New York, October 25, 1857. 
 My very dear sister : 
 
 I felt sad at parting with you to-day on board the ship that is to carry you 
 away from us, and which is to be your home for so many weeks ; but you are in 
 the hands of Him who never sleeps. He will preserve you on the deep, and 
 will bring you to your friends so far from the churches and Christians and scenes 
 you love. You have greatly interested us all, and many prayers from your new 
 friends in New York will go up for your safety. We will think of you on the 
 deep. He who quieted the waves of the stormy Galilee will give his angels 
 charge of you, to bear you up above the dangers of the deep. I trust when 
 you read this in your beloved sister's home you will find that God is there, and 
 you will be able to say that your voyage was pleasant. I forgot to ask a favor of 
 you. Is it too late? During your voyage you could write down your thoughts, 
 and I should love to have an account of your voyage. If you have preserved 
 any such reminiscences, be assured that I should b-; glad to receive them. Was 
 your captain kind? Were your fellow-passengers agreeable? Tell me all? 
 
 Your brother in Christ, Chas. A. Buckbee. 
 
 These letters caused me to weep sad tears, because I was so for from 
 those who loved me, and I had not the power to return to them. 
 But they also cheered me in my exile. The prayers that were daily 
 sent up to heaven for me would surely be heard and answered 
 on my behalf. My reliance on God's protecting arm was made 
 stronger.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 
 
 August 2, 1858. I landed once more at Kiama, deathly sea-sick. 
 We had a very rough passage down. All my luggage was landed, but 
 there was no one to meet me or to carry it to the hut, which was six 
 miles from town. I asked a stranger who was going that way if he 
 would carry it, and I would try to walk; but I was so sick that I 
 broke down ere I was half way, and had to take a seat on the wagon. 
 The impression went out from the big house that I would not return, 
 so the hut was in the same dilapidated state that it was. Myself, bag 
 and baggage, were left outside of the hut on the hillside. There I sat in 
 the midst of all my worldly goods, on a carpet of emerald under a can- 
 opy of sapphire. I sat there several hours, waiting for some of the 
 patrons to come to me. I was too sick to go to them, even if I knew 
 the way. I hoped some one would pass and help me to put my trunks 
 under shelter, and take me to some house for the night. The sun was 
 far on his westward journey, and still no one came. I was getting 
 cold; the sea-air was chilly. I had come from afar to devote myself 
 to the good of others, but I stood, like the mast of a ship in a wreck, 
 alone and erect, without support, in the midst of calamities that were 
 heavy to bear without sympathy. O God, thou wilt not forsake me, 
 though my way be dark and my future hidden, yet will I trust thee, 
 for thou art still my Savior. 
 
 I saw a man coming toward me at last, perhaps to ask me what I 
 was doing there. It was one of my patrons who lived near, and knew 
 that I had been sitting all day on the hillside, but had only come now. 
 
 "I coomd to ax yees to coom and hae a coop o tae an a warm," he 
 said. 
 
 I was in that state of feeling, that I would gladly have accepted hos- 
 pitality from a savage; so I went with the man, whose family for that 
 night consisted of myself, himself and wife, a servant girl, seven chil- 
 dren and six pigs. The mistress of the house was feeding the pigs, and 
 as each was full of clabber, it was handed over to the children to hold, 
 and they had a chorus of squalling. The children were soon all hud- 
 dled off to bed in their clothes and dirt. I had drunk a cup of tea, and 
 
 (360)
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 36 1 
 
 had a warm, and was glad to lay my weary head down on a pallet, that 
 was made for me. I was soon oblivious to things terrestrial. 
 
 I was busy for a whole week trying to get the dirt out of the hut, and fit 
 up a room to sleep in. The people had made great promises, but had not 
 performed any. I papered with waste paper the openings between the 
 slabs, to keep out daylight and moonlight, and wind and rain, and then 
 lined the walls with white cotton, and ceiled it with the same. I put 
 a bright carpet on the floor, a white cover on my little iron bedstead, 
 and the packing-case, that brought my goods and chattels, I turned on 
 its side, and used as a toilet-table and wardrobe. I dressed it with 
 pink and white muslin, a large mirror, and all the et ccBteras of the toilet- 
 table. With a knife, a hammer and a few nails, I made some book- 
 shelves, and so decorated them, that the cabinet maker's work was not 
 seen. I draped everything, made the best of everything, and so had 
 a bright, cozy, comfortable room, and the outlook from my little win- 
 dow, when I put my face close to it, was grand beyond comparison, 
 and inexpressibly beautiful. 
 
 On the 9th of August, I opened school with twenty-five scholars. 
 They were a very rough set of children, but I commenced my work by 
 prayer, and an exhortation to the children as to their conduct, and I 
 got along with them very well. My hopes were high. Mount Pleasant 
 School was the name of the establishment, but I soon changed the 
 name to Hurricane Hill. One night a tempest raged around my frail 
 hut, and rocked it like a cradle. An undefined dread took possession 
 of me in the middle of the night, as slab after slab fell in over the desks 
 with a thundering noise, on the floor of the school-room, and crash 
 went the windows. I thought the roof would be blown off. As the 
 walls came tumbling down, I expected every moment that I would be 
 crushed to death. I then thought the old hut, with its lone occupant 
 trembling in the blast, would be whirled into the sea. I do not think 
 the fear of death troubled me; but to die a violent death, alone, and 
 not a friend near— I shrunk from the thought. The winds prevented 
 ray having a light, and had I left the unsafe shelter of the rocking hut, 
 I would have been caught in the cyclone's fierrc embrace, and hurled 
 over the precipice that lay a few yards in front of the door. I com- 
 mended myself to the ruler of the storm, and lay down, and tried to be 
 still till daylight, and an abatement of tlic storm. The darkness was 
 most profound, and in its midst a bright light sprang up, that lit up 
 every corner of the hut. I sjjrang to my feet, ran to the kitchen, and 
 found it full of blazing, crackling wood. The wind had blown what
 
 362 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I had thought dead embers into a blaze, and scattered them, till they 
 caught the kindling-wood, and set it on fire. I had some difficulty in 
 putting it out, and I wondered what would come next. That fearful 
 night passed, but not the tornado. The big boys, when they came to 
 school, lifted the slabs, but could not fix them. The storm howled so, 
 that no one could hear another speak. I had to dismiss school, and 
 sit alone, and listen to the rushing, mighty wind against the rocking 
 hut, and the roar of the mighty breakers, as they dashed against the 
 rocky walls below. That awful tempest lasted three nights and two 
 days. The last night the whole of the front wall of my hut was car- 
 ried away. What with want of sleep, and the imminent peril I had been 
 in, and the heartlessness of the people, I was perfectly outdone. I 
 wrote to one of the trustees in great distress to come to my assistance. 
 I did not think they would wait till I called upon them, to render it to 
 a woman in peril in their midst. I suppose the North American Indians 
 
 can match the North of Ireland men. Mr. G , of the big house, 
 
 had left me severely alone. I refused to live at his house, and he 
 would not make the hut secure if he could help it. However, it was 
 made a little more secure, and I felt somewhat reassured. 
 
 "And all things, whatsoever ye ask in prayer, believing, ye shall 
 receive." These are the words of one who never deceived any one 
 who trusted him. Surely it can not be presumption to take Christ at 
 his word, and trust him to fulfill his promise in his own way. 
 
 When my hut was made somewhat secure, I found that I had run 
 out of all sorts of provisions. I had been living on short commons 
 lately, but now I was out of everything. One day passed entirely with- 
 out food, and a second; and though I was working hard, I did not feel 
 much inconvenience from a two days' fast. I sat down by my little wirw- 
 dow, pressed my face close to it, and looked away over the dark, blue 
 Pacific Ocean, till my mental vision rested on Chili, right opposite where 
 I sat. I boarded a steamer, sailed up the west coast of South America 
 till I reached Darien, crossed it and the Gulf of Mexico, went up the 
 Mississippi, and landed among my Kentucky friends, and there I sat 
 dreaming, and wondered why the dinner-bell did not ring. I was 
 hungry. The sun went down; I was left in darkness within and with- 
 out. I rose to my feet; there was no one to ring the bell, and no bell 
 to ring, and no dinner to cause a call to come. I staggered to the 
 kitchen to kindle a fire to pi-epare some tea, but it just occurred to me 
 that I had nothing to prepare. I sat down on a box, and cried as it 
 my heart would break, to think of the oceans and seas that separated
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 363 
 
 me from those I loved, and here to be sitting in a dark hut on a moun- 
 tain-side alone, and hungry, and nothing to eat, and not knowing where 
 to get any; but crying would not bring food. Who feeds the ravens 
 and the sparrows? "Whatsoever ye ask in prayer, believing, ye 
 shall receive." Why did I not think of this before. I knelt down 
 where I was, and asked God to send me food, for I did not know 
 where to buy it. I went to my Bible, and read, and then lay down, 
 believing the promise as firmly as I could. I awoke the next morning 
 refreshed by a good sleep, feeling very childlike, and as I had no break- 
 fast to prepare, I was soon ready for school. I knelt down again, ask- 
 ing for what I needed, nothing doubting. A rap-tap at the kitchen- 
 door; a little girl stood there with something wrapped in a towel. 
 
 "Please, ma-am, mother says will you accept of this little loaf of 
 bread ? We got in some new flour, and mother said she thought you 
 would like it, and she sent this to you." 
 
 "Thank you, Maria, and thank your mother for her thoughtful kind- 
 ness. I will surely accept of it;" and I thanked God also. 
 
 Before I had done speaking, two more girls presented themselves, 
 one with two bottles of fresh new milk, the other with a roll of beauti- 
 ful fresh butter. Then another came with a few ribs of a young pig 
 nicely roasted. 
 
 "Mother says she roasted this for you. We killed it yesterday, and 
 she hopes you will like it." 
 
 My heart filled to overflowing with gratitude to God for his care of 
 me. I could not eat, but I drank of the new milk, and was satisfied. 
 I tasted the dainty bit of pig; it was very fresh, and I had no salt. 
 Small as the request might seem, I asked for salt, and it was sent. 
 That day I had a roasted fowl, some eggs, and various other articles 
 of food sent to me. I had more than a week's provision on hand. 
 Persons whom I had never seen, and who did not know my wants, 
 sent me the kind of food I needed, and when I needed it. Who will 
 venture to say that it was accidental, that it was all chance? No; it 
 was a direct and special answer to prayer, brought about in a natural 
 way, no miracle required. My school increased to forty in number, 
 all willing to learn, and imjjroving fast. 
 
 I wrote a long letter to Mrs. Keene, reminding her of the conver- 
 sation we had in her son's sick-room, saying that in about two years I 
 would be doing mission work among the mountain children, and 
 "Oh, so I am, not among Kentucky mountains, where I could reach 
 friends in a few hours, but away half round the globe from them. But
 
 364 1'HE STORY OF AN EARNLST LIFE. 
 
 God's vineyard is wide as the world, and children are to be found 
 everywhere." 
 
 Hurricane Hill was a hill of storms. I was exposed to every wind 
 that blew, but I became accustomed to the howling and raging and 
 roaring sounds around me ; they became like music to me when they 
 kept within bounds. I was taken suddenly ill one day, and twice I 
 nearly fainted in the school-room. I told the children to do their 
 work as well as they could and go home, for I had to lie down. And 
 there I lay as cold as death, and sick and faint, not able to get up to 
 kindle a fire to get a cup of warm tea to put some heat in me. I had 
 a severe attack of dysentery, and lay unable to undress myself for two 
 nights. The children all went away on Friday, not knowing that I 
 was so ill. I was so very ill I thought I was dying alone, without a 
 friendly voice to cheer me, or a kind hand to smooth my pillow, or 
 to moisten my lips, or cool my burning brow. Though I lay sick 
 and helpless and, humanly speaking, alone, yet God did not forsake 
 me, or give me over to troubled thoughts. I was happy in my sick- 
 ness and solitude; I was willing to await God's will concerning me, 
 whether he would lead me through the dark valley, or bring me back 
 to life and health. Had I drunk a cup of warm tea, or a cup of cold 
 water, while I lay in such dreadful pain, I would have attributed my 
 recovery to one or the other, but I took nothing at all from the time I 
 lay down till I arose, free from sickness, though weak. So to a kind 
 heavenly Father I render thanks for my preservation. 
 
 On the 25th of October, 1858, I took up my Bible and read as 
 usual ; but I put it down to think of all I had seen and suffered since 
 that day one year previous. My journal says, "This day one year ago I 
 was at Sandy Hook sailing out from New York." I asked myself 
 whether through all my trials I had seen the hand of God, or were my 
 troubles from the earth? Whether I had done good or evil? Whether 
 I had suffered as a true Christian? I came to the conclusion that 
 I had suffered much; but why I suffered I knew not. God's ways 
 are not our ways. I can not solve the dark providences which are 
 trying me so sorely. There are moments when the spirit shrinks 
 within itself, as the mildew of disappointment settles heavily upon it, 
 withering all its joys, and blasting in the bud all its fondest anticipa- 
 tions. "The wail of sadness swells in every passing gale, drowning 
 the joyous melody of life's sunniest song in its notes of woe." 
 
 On a Sunday morning in November I was sittmg at my little win- 
 dow writing, and looking out, and drinking deep of the soothing
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 365 
 
 draught that nature was holding out for me, when all at once a change 
 came over the scene. The heavens grew dark, and forth flashed the 
 forked lightning in all its terrific grandeur. Peal after peal of tliunder 
 burst overhead, like the explosion of ten thousand pieces of artillery. It 
 did not roll and rumble, it exploded with a mighty force. One tremen- 
 dous burst, that seemed to split the mountain, made me spring from my 
 seat. The ocean, that had but a few minutes before lain calm as a sleep- 
 ing child, was now hidden from my sight — was lashed to fury by the an- 
 gry winds, and was roaring and dashing and breaking on the cliffs with 
 a tremendous noise. The large hail fell in such quantity and force as to 
 threaten destruction to the roof of the hut. The water was rushino- 
 down the hillside in a broad torrent, flooding my frail tenement. But 
 the darkness was more terrible. The heavens and earth and sea were 
 shaken; the destruction of all creation seemed inevitable. The blue 
 forked lightning, darting hither and thither through the gloom, bafiled 
 the eye to follow its motions. The depression of the earth or dry 
 gulf which lay in front of the hut between it and the ocean was filled 
 with darkness, and the tall palm-trees, which grew away down at the 
 bottom, were hidden by the black veil, athwart which the lightning 
 flew like fiery serpents. This was a new and awful sight. My senses 
 fairly reeled beneath the elemental strife. I could hear and feel, but 
 could not see anything but the lightning, as it cut its way through the 
 darkness. How awful, how grand to be alone with God in such an 
 hour. I felt nearer to him who "plants his footsteps in the sea and 
 rides upon the storm." "'Tis I; be not atraid," said the still, small 
 voice, and I was not afraid. I felt as if I could have spent all my 
 days alone with God on that mountain, if I would not get hungry and 
 iMck. Still my situation and manner of life were not desirable. The 
 hurricanes that raged around this hill exposed me to continual danger. 
 They came up suddenly and from all points of the compass. I was 
 a'lways glad to see the children in the morning; I never saw any one 
 else. I was now in the second quarter of my school. I liad not re- 
 ceived any visitors, and had never in the time been six yards from ihe 
 hut-doors. My mornings were spent in reading and writing, and pre- 
 paring and eating my simple breakfast. From eiglit to four o'clock in 
 school, with a short recess; then I prepared my evening meal, and sat 
 down to read the Bible till retiring time. I had read the Bii)le through 
 in the last three months. I had no desire to make acquaintances. I 
 felt as if I were resting in a caravansary for a short time, and wer« 
 then to leave for a more congenial home.
 
 366 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Mr. A , the Episcopal minister, called at the school one day. I 
 
 thought he wished to examine the scholars, but not so; his mission 
 was to abuse me — not a very clerical one. At Kiama he had heard 
 that I was a Baptist, and had been trying to introduce a Baptist Bible 
 and Baptist books; that I had opened a school for Episcopal children 
 and was perverting them from the true church, and he wished to know 
 how I had dared to do these things? The little man swelled with his 
 own importance. I was mute. with astonishment at his tirade. He 
 stopped to breathe, and demanded an answer to his question. 
 
 "In the first place," I said, "I should like to know who it is who 
 dares to come to my school-room and, with such pomposity and im- 
 pertinence, dares to question me in such fashion; certainly no gentle- 
 man would do this in the presence of children." 
 
 The little man colored scarlet. He was known to the children, 
 though not to me. He toned down considerably as he said : 
 
 "I am the Rev. Mr. A of the Episcopal Church, Kiama." 
 
 "Oh!" I said, "I would not have thought it. I had believed the 
 clergy of that church were gentlemen. Now that I know who you 
 are I do not think you have the least right whatever to come to my 
 school-room to abuse or catechise me ; nor do I consider myself bound 
 to answer your rude questions. As I have my duties to attend to I 
 wish you a good day." 
 
 I went on with my work and the reverend gentleman left. I wished 
 the children to know that I was mistress of the school and that I had 
 no master. 
 
 Of all living things snakes are the most hateful and frightful. The 
 children told me to always look every evening for snakes in the house 
 before sundown, for sometimes they crawled into the houses in the 
 daytime, but they never traveled after sundown. I did this most dili- 
 gently every evening, but had not seen any inside, though the hillside 
 was infested with the most deadly kind. One night I had searched 
 every corner of the house and was satisfied with my hunt ; nothing 
 could be seen to disturb my peace. I felt at peace with all the 
 world, myself and God. I felt more secure that night than ever I had 
 before. I placed my open Bible on the table ready to sit down to my 
 evening's reading, and went to the kitchen to light my candle, and be- 
 fore barricading myself up for the night, by putting a little bit of stick 
 in a staple, I looked out and around upon a scene as calm as a poet's 
 dream, and beautiful beyond compare. I looked up, and star after 
 star lit up the blue vault. I pierced the heavens and saw him, my
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 367 
 
 Savior, seated on the great white throne. I clasped my hands and 
 raised them in adoration, and with a heart full of gratitude I thanked 
 him for his protecting care of a poor insignificant creature, who stood 
 on his footstool before the throne of the universe on which he sat. I 
 felt happy and secure. I stood on tiptoe and looked far over the 
 grass, but saw nothing to frighten me, and exclaimed, 
 
 "Not even a snake to trouble me!" 
 
 As my heels came down upon the floor I felt something soft under 
 one heel. I put my dress one side and looked, but saw nothing. I 
 gritted my teeth, and said, 
 
 "What imagination can do!" 
 
 I fastened my door, took up my candle, went into my room, ana 
 was about to sit down, when I went back to the kitchen to get a cup 
 of water to drink, a very unusual thing, for I hardly ever was thirsty. 
 I had the light in one hand, the cup in the other, and turned to leave 
 the kitchen, when to my great horror I saw an object that fairly para- 
 lyzed me. The sun had been down some time, but there on the kitchen- 
 floor wriggled a huge and hideous lead-colored snake, one of the most 
 deadly kind. I did not scream or move, and how I got the cup and 
 candlestick out of my hands I do not know. The first thing I knew 
 I was bending over the poisonous reptile, with my hands on my knees, 
 holding my dress so as to cover my feet from the deadly fangs. The 
 loathsome creature had thrown itself backward at me, and was wrig- 
 gling and coiling and flapping around me most furiously. How my face 
 and hands, which were exposed, escaped the fatal bite I can not tell. I 
 could not escape from the coils of the reptile. If I moved in any direc- 
 tion I would have to step over it, so I had to be perfectly still while he 
 spent his mad fury, twisting round me and striking my dress with his head 
 and tail; so quick were his movements I could not tell which was which. 
 I had no feeling but that of being petrified by astonishment. After 
 a while, the time seemed long, I saw about a foot of space between the 
 glittering coils and my skirts. Involuntarily I straightened up, threw 
 back my head and gave one of the most unearthly screams I ever 
 heard from a human throat. I saw the reptile sj)ring some distance 
 from the floor and then disappear. I ran Ixackward into my room 
 and through the large school-room and out on the hillside, and screamed 
 as loud as I was able, and kejjt on screaming, witliout cessation and 
 without the power to stop. When I was in the coils of the reptile I 
 was self-possessed, but now the danger was over, my pent up feelings
 
 368 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 gave way and I could do nothing but scream. I exhausted my strength 
 ere help came. At last a man came and said: 
 
 "Why, mum, is't yees that's screamin?" 
 
 I made no other answer than "A snake, a snake!" 
 
 He took a large stick in his hand, and went cautiously into the hut, 
 hunted everywhere, came out, and said : 
 
 "Hees gone share, no snake bees thar, noo." 
 
 I was trembling all over, and quite hoarse, and nearly exhausted, 
 and the man was going to leave me; but I caught him by the arm, and 
 told him to take me to his house, for I was afraid to sleep in the hut 
 again. I told him to put out the candle; but it had burned into the 
 socket. I had lit a fresh candle in the evening, so the. night was far 
 spent ere it burned out. He shut the door, but it had no fastenings. 
 I held to the man's coat-sleeve till I reached his house. I asked him 
 why he did not come to my assistance sooner, if he heard my cries. 
 He said he heard cries, but they were so "unhuman," that he did not 
 think they were human, and they all went to bed. But his wife could 
 not rest; she said somebody wanted help, and asked her husband to 
 get up, and go toward the hut and listen, and the result was finding 
 me more frightened than hurt. The woman, a kind-hearted creature, 
 spread clean sheets on a dirty sofa, and I lay down, but not to sleep. 
 I asked to have the candle left burning. I then lay watching and 
 counting the huge tarantulas, as they crawled over the walls Avith their 
 long legs, till daylight. 
 
 All my patrons, far and near, sent me invitations to come and stay 
 with them a night. This, though as repulsive to my feelings as had 
 been the suggestion of one of the men, "Shure the lady can't stay here 
 her lone," I had a night's lodging here, and one there; one night, per- 
 haps, three miles on this side of the hut, the next night four miles on 
 the other. I cried, "Oh, for a ship to carry me back to my friends 
 who love me, and who are loved by me. If it be God's will that I 
 stay here, I will try to submit, but I am very much exposed." "Watch 
 and pray." Sometimes when we feel most secure, we are in the great- 
 est peril. I prayed to God to protect me from unseen dangers. 
 
 One afternoon I was sitting at my littlfe window ruminating. I did wish 
 the people would pay me what they had promised to pay me, that I 
 might be ready at any moment to leave, when I heard of a ship going 
 to America. A rap was heard at the door, a very unusual occurrence. 
 I opened it, and was truly glad to see the kind, smiling face of Mr. 
 G . I told him what I had been thinking about. I asked if he
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 369 
 
 would collect my money from his tenants, as he had promised to do; 
 they would pay him more readily than they would me. I told him I 
 needed the money to pay my way. I told him I had been turned out 
 of the hut without ceremony by a huge snake. I had to sleep in the 
 peoples' houses, and I did not like their manner of life any more than 
 I did my own, and I wished to leave the district the first opportunity. 
 
 "You know I am your friend," Mr. G said. 
 
 "I hope so," I said. 
 
 "Well, I will prove it by my actions, that I am the best friend you 
 ever had." 
 
 "Oh, thank you for your kind expressions, and while I am compelled 
 to stay here, I shall be faithful to my young charge. I shall plant the 
 good seed in their hearts, with the hope that it will bear fruit by and by." 
 
 The old man said many kind things. He said I was delicate look- 
 ing, and could not stand the hardships and fatigue of the life I was ex- 
 posed to. Good old man, I thought, he will get my money from his 
 tenants without any trouble, and help me to get away from the hard- 
 ships. I was not prepared for the manner in which he proposed to do this. 
 I was sitting close to the window, where I could see, and be seen by, 
 
 every passer-by, my arm on the table. Mr. G brought his chair 
 
 close to the table, and put his hand on mine, which I gently drew away. 
 
 "I have come," said he, "to make a proposal to you. You know I 
 have taken a great interest in you since I saw you first. In fact, you 
 are so interesting, that I have loved you ever since you came here." 
 
 "I am glad to have some one to have an interest in me, though I am not 
 at all interesting. But what do you propose?" I asked, in all simplicity. 
 
 "Well, it is that you give up teaching in this place, and I shall plai'e 
 you in an elegant home, where you shall be waited upon, and have 
 everything your heart can desire, and you may be very happy." 
 
 "But what shall be my employment? For I must earn money to 
 carry me back to my friends." 
 
 "You shall have plenty of money, more than you can use, if you 
 will be guided by me." 
 
 "What do you wish me to do?" I asked. 
 
 "In the first place, I wish to make you my wife." 
 
 "Wife!" I exclaimed. "You have a wife, a dear, good old lady." 
 
 "Yes, I have; but you know that she is a great deal older than 1 am, 
 and in the course of nature she can not live long, and if you will allow 
 me to place you in a beautiful home, surrounded by luxury, and there 
 24
 
 370 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 wait till 1 am free, I will make you my bride, and all I require is that 
 you will allow me to visit you occasionally." 
 
 I was certainly not prepared for this. I was slow to apprehend. 
 But when the full force of the truth flashed across my mind, I bowed 
 my head in very shame, that any one should speak to me so. My 
 sensibilities were wounded. I clasped my hands, and mentally ex- 
 claimed: "Merciful Father, what have I done to deserve this?" Mr. 
 
 G i)ut his hand on my bowed head and spoke. I sprang to my 
 
 feet as if an adder had bitten me. I was erect and firm now, my face 
 on fire. I said, as calmly as I could: 
 
 "Mr. G , will you tell me, have ever I, in word, or look, or act, 
 
 done anything that would prompt you to thus insult me?" 
 
 "No, nothing; but I have loved you passionately from the first day 
 I saw you. You have interested me more than any woman I ever saw." 
 
 "Silence, you base, crawling reptile, stinging and poisonous!" I ex- 
 claimed, in a perfect tempest of indignation. ' 'Do you think to destroy 
 the honor of a virtuous woman by the poison of your flatteries? Your 
 attempt is as feeble as it is foul. The deadly venom of the serpent lies 
 under your tongue, while your outward seeming is soft and smooth 
 like his shmy skin. Away from this hut ! leave it instantly. My ears 
 have been polluted by your speech; my eyes are offended by your 
 presence. Leave the hut; do not attempt to speak to me, or I shall 
 expose you to the scorn and contempt of all, to whom I shall make 
 known your dastardly conduct." 
 
 "Pray," said the craven coward, "do not expose me; I did not 
 mean anything by what I said, I only meant to try you. Please don't 
 expose me." 
 
 "Try me? How mean, selfish and cruel, to come to me, when I was 
 in distress, to try me. I have had trials enough since I came to your 
 district, without your coming in the hypocritical guise of a friend to in- 
 sult me. You ask me not to expose you. Mean, cowardly man, you 
 y/ish to conceal your wickedness from your daughters, your son, your 
 wife, and from your fellow-men, lest they would despise you as I do. 
 Remember, God will take you to an account for all this. Now there 
 is only one condition on which your perfidy shall be kept safe in the 
 dark -chambers of silence, and that is, that you never speak to me 
 again, unless I speak to you. And now I look upon you as a more 
 dangerous reptile than the one that drove me from the shelter of this 
 poor huL You ask my forgiveness; ask God's. You ask me to visit 
 -Mrs. G , but not to let her know what you have said to me. I
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 371 
 
 will avoid your house as if a pestilence was there. Now leave, for I 
 inust seek a lodging ere the sun sets." 
 
 He left. The unprincipled and impure can have no idea of virtue 
 or delicacy being other than a cloak, to be thrown off at will, and, 
 therefore, to reason with such minds is to speak to the winds. A liber- 
 tine heart is the same in all ages and in all places. 
 
 I dreamed a dream one night, that was not all a dream. \V 
 
 rode up to the school-house one day, and said his father had gone from 
 home to spend several days, and he was going to Sydney to spend a 
 
 week, and his mother asked me, as a great favor, to go down to O 
 
 R , and stay with her at night, as she would be perfectly alone. 
 
 "Certainly, I will go and stay with her," I said. 
 
 She occupied the room occupied by me when I was their guest, and 
 I preferred to have my bed made on the sofa at the outside of her 
 door, rather than go to another part of the house. We were lying close 
 to each other, only the wall between us, and when we lay down, we 
 chatted till we were sleepy; then she shut her door, and we both slept. 
 I dreamed that I was being lifted up and carried away. I either awoke, 
 and gave a cry, or gave a cry and awoke, I know not which. I was 
 quickly borne back to the sofa and laid down. The parlor was pitchy 
 dark. I rose, and leaned on my elbow, and peered into the darkness; 
 just then a little blue flame flickered up from the embers, and gleamed 
 upon a tall figure in a dressing gown just passing out of the doorway. 
 Mrs. G , having heard my cry, piped out: 
 
 "Honey, are you dreaming?" 
 
 "I do not know," I said, and we lapsed into silence. 
 
 I slept no more that night. At the breakfast-table I was greatly 
 
 surprised to see Mr. G . I was, beyond measure, puzzled to know 
 
 whether I had had a real or an imaginary dream, or experience, or 
 
 whether Mr. G was a somnambulist. I could make out nothing 
 
 by observation, and I asked no questions. My eyes were opened now, 
 wide open. I did not see things in light of a pale-blue, flickering flame, 
 but clearly in the broad, bright sunlight. 
 
 This man of vast wealth and influence I had called by every bad 
 name my insulted nature and wounded pride could think of; I had 
 threatened to expose him; but on reflection I feared that he might do 
 me injury by villainous falsehoods. 1 had no resource but to do my 
 duty, and trust to God for safe-keeping. Aud who shall say that the 
 God in whom I trusted had not thus far jjrotected me from unseen 
 dangers? Otherwise, what influenced me to refuse to live at Omega
 
 37^ 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Retreat when I first opened school? Nothing apparent; yet I was 
 warned, and I heeded the warnmg. 
 
 On comuig to school one morning through a field that opened to the 
 
 pike, when I reached the gate, there, like a sentinel, stood Mr. G > 
 
 with the gate-latch in his hand. I looked round for another outlet. 
 Mr. G understood my movement, and said : 
 
 "This is the only way.'' 
 
 "Allow me to pass then," I said. 
 
 "Not yet," said he. "I have watched for you, and waited for an 
 opportunity to speak to you, though you have forbidden me to do so." 
 
 "l.etme pass," I said; "I do not wish to listen to you." 
 
 "You must hear me ere I let you through. I am exceedingly sorry 
 for speaking to you as I did at the school-house. I hope you will for- 
 give me; I really was only trying you." 
 
 I told him it was cruel sport to indulge in, and might have entailed 
 ruin and perdition on me. He said he would not injure a hair of my 
 head; he really did love and respect me as if I were his own daughter, 
 and nothing would give hirh more pleasure than to have me for a 
 daughter, if I would only marry W . 
 
 "You are trying me now, no doubt, but I have no desire to be linked 
 to your family in any way." 
 
 "Why do you shun W ; you know he is fond of you; his 
 
 mother and myself would love you as our own daughter, and all the 
 
 young women of the district think W a fine match. I had thought 
 
 you put on shy airs for a selfish purpose, but now I think your mind 
 is as pure as an angel's." 
 
 "I have always been treated with civility by your son, and to keep 
 him civil I have kept him at a distance ; for he is coarse, vain and 
 vulgar; perhaps were I better acquainted with him I might find char- 
 acteristics in him inherited from you, which would make me despise 
 him." 
 
 "Well, well; you are very hard on us, but I hope you will feel 
 better before long. Meantime, forgive me for the injury I did you." 
 
 "I have nothing to forgive, as you did not succeed in your attempt 
 to injure me. You are an old man, and you ought to repent of your 
 sins, and ask God to forgive you." 
 
 "Oh, you are very unforgiving," he said, and opened the gate for 
 me to pass through. 
 
 I find a note in my journal, which says: "January 5, 1859. An- 
 other year has rolled round into the eternity past. How have I spent
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 373 
 
 it? God knows what I have gone through. I have been in the 
 furnace, but if the Refiner has been by the furnace and thrown out the 
 dross the gold will be all the brighter. Father, strengthen my faith. 
 Whether my days be many or few, let them all be spent in thy vine- 
 yard, and in my Master's cause. Since Christmas I have walked 
 many a weary mile to and from my hut, through the intense heat of a 
 summer's sun, round a rugged road, winding round the base of a 
 mountain overlooking the sea." 
 
 "The sun shall not smite thee by day nor the moon by night," 
 often sustained me in my long, hot walks, with my bundle of 
 specimens of the new translation under my arm, going from house 
 to house, miles apart, to introduce it, and interest the people in 
 it, independent of their ministers. Sometimes I would be caught 
 in one of the fearful thunder storms peculiar to that district, and, 
 drenched to the skin, would trudge to the first house and get a 
 litde dry, and go on my way. I was plodding along the road one day, 
 with my books under my arms as usual, admiring everything I saw. 
 The scenery was magnificent. I was suddenly brought to a halt by a 
 herd of wild cattle which unexpectedly appeared. They looked at me, 
 and I looked at them, and we all stood still. To advance was impos- 
 sible, and I did not wish to recede. The bulls bellowed as if they 
 were ready for an attack; but they did not move, and I kept my 
 ground. We watched each other very closely for over half an hour, 
 as it seemed to me, when some of them got tired looking and began 
 very deliberately to walk toward me, bellowing with all their might. 
 I turned to run, when I saw a horseman riding full tilt toward me. 
 He took me through and past them with some difficulty. I looked 
 upon this as a providential escape. 
 
 This rugged but beautiful hill country is not fit for cultivation, only 
 here and there a spot. When the land is cleared and grass sown, no 
 more labor is needed; but thousands of cattle feed and fatten without 
 any trouble. The food is not garnered in winter; for then the grass is 
 greenest. The district is well suited for dairy farms, and the farmers 
 grow rich very soon. 
 
 I spent all my holidays in the interests of the American Bible Union, 
 foot sore and weary often, but nothing daunted. As long as I could 
 keep the highway I could do very well; but when I had to walk up- 
 hill and down; cross creeks without bridges, gathering stones to make 
 a footway across; had to climb high fences and go through fields of 
 wild and tame cattle, and wade through undrained swamp-ground, full
 
 374 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 of everything disagreeable if not deadly, I felt very tired. One les- 
 son among many others that I learned in the holidays was, that in the 
 hearts and homes of the humble poor there was more kindness, 
 more hospitality and more sympathy than among the rich. One day 
 i had taken a long and wearisome walk to the house of a nabob, and 
 was unsuccessful in my endeavors to interest him in the good work. 
 I stopped at the house of one of my patrons to rest; I had walked 
 eight or ten miles. The mistress saw me looking very tired, and she 
 
 asked me if Mr. H 's folks had given me anything to eat after my 
 
 long walk. 
 
 "No, they had not," I said. 
 
 "Och, och, but yees must be starvin." 
 
 "No," I said, "I am only tired, though I have eaten nothing all 
 day." 
 
 She prepared a nice meal for me; but I was too tired to eat or go 
 farther that night. While she was waiting on me she would exclaim, 
 
 "Och, och, but thim big folks bees thoughtless crathers, to let yees 
 lave tha hoose without givin yees something to ate." 
 
 I was introduced to a good Methodist, a man of money. I intro- 
 duced the new translation to him, thinking as he was a Bible reader 
 he would be interested in the work. He asked me, with a sneer, if I 
 knew how wicked it was to change the Bible?" 
 
 "Yes," I answered; "but I am not advocating a change, only a 
 revision of God's word into pure English, that we could all under- 
 stand." 
 
 "We have only your word for that," said he. 
 
 "My word is my bond, and it is a good one, not often disputed; 
 moreover, it is supported by good authority, which can be produced 
 when necessary, and last, though not least, here is a specimen of the 
 work itself, let it speak." 
 
 When read and explained, he very rudely said: 
 
 "What do I know but that work is got up to deceive people, and 
 you come from some other place than where you say. It is very 
 strange that men would pay a woman and send her out to interest the 
 people in that work instead of a man." 
 
 I told him that I had been authorized to introduce the work to the 
 colonists,but I was not paid, nor was I sent; I gave all my spare time 
 to the work willingly. 
 
 "Humph," said he. 
 
 Now, this good Methodist man had not a spark of Christian courte-
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 375 
 
 sy, though a Bible reader. He said the work was got up to suit a 
 party, and he would like to know more about it and me ere he helped 
 it any. I said if he doubted my word, doubted the testimony that 
 supported it, and doubted the work itself after examining it, I doubted 
 whether his Bible reading did him any good. He rejoined, angrily: 
 
 "What right have you to judge me ? You are told not to judge that 
 you be not judged." 
 
 "True," I said; "we are not to judge others. Now you have 
 judged me an impostor, and you have judged the great and good men 
 who are devoting their lives and talents to the glorious work of giving 
 a pure version of God's word to the people deceivers, and the word 
 itself a grand deception gotten up to suit a party. Therefore, you 
 have given me the right to call you an unbeliever. I hope you will 
 attend to what I have said and I may call on you again." 
 
 Phebe of Cesarea was commended by Paul to the church at Rome. 
 The Christians were to help her in her business whatever she needed. 
 But the men of this district think a woman is only fit to work in the 
 stockyard; she is of no account out of it. Hence the criticisms on 
 my working in the Lord's vineyard so energetically. 
 
 I had resumed my school duties, when the Rev. Mr. A called 
 
 to see me in a very different temper from that which he exhibited the 
 first time he called. He very politely asked if I would allow him to 
 examine the children a little, preparatory to a public Sunday-school 
 examination at Gerringong, and would I allow the children to attend 
 said examination ? This day his manners were those of a gentleman, 
 in pleasing contrast with the coarse, familiar manners of the people. 
 I told him he was at liberty to examine the children on their Scripture 
 lessons, and I should allow them to go where he invited them, and I 
 should take pleasure in co-operating with him in all that pertained to 
 the well-being of the children or their parents. He asked permission 
 to examine the specimens of the n^ translation, which I was ])lcased 
 to give, and I gave him several portions to take home with him to 
 study and give his criticism, as he was a graduate of Oxford and a 
 scholar. We were better friends now. 
 
 Mr. G was trying to have a national school-house buiU on his 
 
 land. Such schools were purely secular, without the Bible in them, 
 and as his tenants were all Orangemen, and hated Popery in all its 
 forms, though they cared nothing for the Bible, yet they thought Mr. 
 
 G was plotting against their principles, by having a school without 
 
 a Bible. They secretly disliked Mr, G , though he had no interest
 
 376 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 in their principles as long as they paid their rent. They thought he 
 was my friend, and to spite him, they punished me by not paying me 
 what I had earned, or making the hut secure for me to live in. I was 
 mistaken in both tenants and landlord, and both gave me trouble. The 
 people were very glad that a snake drove me out among them. They 
 
 saw now that 1 had no particular friendship for Mr. G ; that I did 
 
 not go to the big house. Their doors were all open to me, and all vied 
 with each other who would show me the most kindness. All wished 
 me to live with them, but this I could not do as a permanent thing. 
 I told them as soon as a ship was advertised to sail for America, I 
 should leave them. The trustees of the school met, to see if they 
 could muster my salary, and when I had received my money, I asked 
 them if they wished me to remain till a ship came, or should I close 
 school. They wished me to remain by all means. All the children 
 liked me, and were doing well; I must stay. I asked on what condi- 
 tions they wished me to stay. I told them that I could not live at any 
 of their houses, and I could not do as I had done — to leave the hut 
 every night, with everything I had inside, and neither locks nor latches 
 to the doors, and walk three or four miles to find a sleeping place at 
 night, and then walk that distance back to my work in the morning. 
 At last it was settled that the school-house should be fenced in, and 
 made secure in every way, fastenings put to the doors, and each one 
 give a little more toward my salary, to enable me to keep a servant. 
 They all promised very fair, and I consented to stay a httle longer. 
 
 The first day I returned to my hut to live, I saw a crawling thing 
 take refuge in my sun-bonnet. I called a boy to kill it, and he pro- 
 nounced it a death adder. A child came into the room crying, "The 
 cat and a snake." I went out to see what was the matter, when I saw 
 my cat (a favorite with all the children) in the coils of a glittering yel- 
 low-ringed venomous snake. From her neck to the tip of her tail she 
 was encircled. "Good-bye, pussj^" I said; but pussy had her teeth, 
 sharp and strong, fixed deep in the neck of the reptile, disabling it from 
 biting. It was a mortal combat, but pussy was victorious. 
 
 I was every month receiving harbingers from Mr. Campbell. I 
 would read them, then reread them to the people, and then lend them 
 to those who could read. I feel, when receiving papers, periodicals 
 and letters from friends far away, that I am not forgotten by them. 
 All my letters are so many feasts to me, as I am surrounded by a desert 
 of mind, and news from a far country is like water to a thirsty soul. 
 
 Some of my friends reproached me for coming to this country ; but,
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 377 
 
 though I am a wanderer in a far off land, far from the fold of the 
 churches, yet not outside of Christ's fold, I consider that I simply did 
 my duty, and I am satisfied. I came to my own, and they received 
 nie not. I was deceived and disappointed, but that was no fault of 
 mine. I have discharged my duty, and in consequence I have stood 
 alone, without a home, money, or friends, in the midst of dangers, seen 
 and unseen, and knew not what to do, or where to go. But my ex- 
 tremity was the opportunity that the Lord took to show his protecting 
 care and guiding hand. I do know that the Savior of man is Lord of 
 the universe, and though I be like a bruised reed, yet he will not allow 
 me to be broken. 
 
 Mr. M , who invited me to go to the District of Illawarra, had 
 
 been immersed, and so had his wife. He had been reading Mr. Camp- 
 bell's works with his Bible in his hand, and he adopted the Bible alone 
 for his creed, and we three broke the loaf every Lord's day. Then 
 
 Mr. M began to proclaim the gospel, and others were baptized, 
 
 and so a little church was organized with fourteen members on the 
 principles of Primitive Christianity, and we met in the court-house at 
 Kiama, six miles from my hut. I was thankful to be able to walk 
 twelve miles every Lord's day to enjoy this privilege. I heard of 
 Bethany College being destroyed by fire, and I asked myself what I 
 could do to help rebuild it. I thought I could make a collection of 
 specimens of the natural history of the district, which was different 
 from that of any other part of the colony, and send it to the museum. 
 
 I wrote a long letter, descriptive of various creatures and things, to 
 Miss Virginia and Miss Dessie Campbell, and I here transcribe it: 
 
 Illawarra District, April, '59. 
 My dear Miss Virginia and my dear little friend Dessie: 
 
 I have intended writing to you ever since I came here, but have held back my 
 pen lest I should cast a shadow of sadness over your sunny faces. Now mat I 
 have begun to write, I shall try to interest you by giving you a descrijjtion of the 
 beautiful district in which I live. It lies about one hundred miles south of .Syd- 
 ney, on the same meridian, 150° East longitude, and about 35° .South latitude. A 
 belt, or range of hills, 1,500 feet high, of a semicircular form, full of water- 
 washed caves and indentations, forms the background of the district. This belt 
 has been formerly washed by the waves of the Pacific, and by some volcanic 
 eruption has been raised. The soil is a rich black mold, formed by the decompo- 
 sition of traj) rock mixed with sand and the debris from the mountains. It extends 
 to the shore, and forms a rich pasture for thousands of cattle. The dairy returns 
 are very profitable. 
 
 Whether from reflected heat, or other cause, the vegetation is tropical and
 
 378 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 semi liopical. The great variety of the trees and flowers makes the woods beau- 
 tiful in the summer months of November, December and January. With scarcely 
 an exception, the trees are evergreen; and, owing to the somber hue of the 
 leaves, they give a dark and somewhat monotonous appearance to the land- 
 scape. The leaves of most of the trees are peculiar, in being vertical instead of 
 hoiizontal. They give but little shade compared to the forest trees of other 
 parts of the world. Many trees have their leaves alike on both sides, and both 
 sides possess the same organs. The acacia family furnishes a great many plants. 
 In the flowering season our forests are decorated with their bright yellow blos- 
 soms, and redolent with their sweet but powerful odor. Wattles are used for 
 tanning. The miall is a beautiful tree, with a delicious scent like that of violets. 
 The eucalyptus is a numerous tribe all over the colony. It is of great commercial 
 value. It comprises all the varieties of gum trees. Some of them shed their 
 baik periodically, but not their leaves. They exude a hard, astringent gum, from 
 which circumstance they derive their common name. The leaves, when crushed 
 or wet, after a rain, smell like camphor. The names are blue, red, white and 
 spotted gums, the manna, the tea, the turpentine, the iron bark, the stringy bark, 
 and the mahogany — all belonging to the same order. The mahogany is much used 
 for fencing and firewood. The casuarine, or Australian oaks, look like fir trees. 
 The banksias is a tribe of very ugly trees, but very useful in ship and boat build- 
 ing, on account of the numerous elbows the branches have. Their flowers are 
 shaped like bottle brushes. The trees are called honeysuckles on account of the 
 quantity of honey they contain. The grass tree (Jiaiithon-hea) has a flower like a 
 bullrush. The fig tribe grows to an enormous size. One species (Ficus elasticus) 
 aft'ords, from its milky juice, the caoutchouc, or India rubber. Ficus giganiicus 
 has leaves four inches wide and twelve inches long. It grows like the banyan 
 tree of India. It sends down suckers from the top which cling to the sides of the 
 trunk and finally unite with it, forming high buttresses. Another sends down 
 suckers from the top, and they take root in the ground, which form trunks to 
 support a leafy canopy, which spreads wide and sends out more suckers, which in 
 turn grow down and take root, until the tree covers a large space of ground, and 
 looks as if it could give shelter to all the cattle in the country. The avenues and 
 arches are impervious to the sun's rays. The outside suckers, hanging in all 
 lengths, remind one of boa-constrictors looking for their prey, as they swing to 
 and fro in the wind. The wood of this tree is of no use, and the flying foxes eat 
 the figs. 
 
 The palm trees, of which tribe the cabbage is most abundant, is a graceful tree 
 from eighty to a hundred feet high. It yields the so-called esculent at the crown 
 of the stem. It forms a beautiful and interesting feature of the landscape. There 
 is a gigantic nettle that I would root out and destroy if I could. The wood is 
 soft and spongy, the leaf very large, like a sunflower leaf, hirsute underneath, 
 and every bristle has a most painful sting. The part stung by it becomes para- 
 lyzed. Horses have been killed by it. The tree commonly grows to the height 
 of fifty feet, and ten in circumference; but it grows in some parts of this district 
 140 feet high, and thirty-two feet in circumference. The tree ferns are perfectly 
 beautiful. Where the gum trees lift their tall heads, two hundred feet before
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LAPORS. 379 
 
 brandling, there you see fern trees nestling under the shelter of the eucalyptic 
 canopy, from two to forty feet high. I had a fern cut down to enable me to take 
 its measure. I could not measure it in the usual way, they grew so close to- 
 gether. I found it forty feet high and seven feet in circumference. I could look 
 at a forest of ferns for a whole day. 
 
 The native cherry is the fruit of the exocarpus. The stone grows outside of 
 the pulp; not round it, but beside it on the end of the stem, like twin cherries. 
 The pulp is insipid. Another tree produces a pear which looks pleasant to the 
 eye, but on close inspection is but a block of wood, and when ripe opens and dis- 
 closes a small flat seed. Our wooden pears surpass your wooden nutmegs, as we 
 do not manufacture them — they are the natural fruit of the land. We have gi- 
 gantic grasses that grow from six to ten feet high in tussocks. 
 
 lUawarra is for natural beauty unsurpassed, and it is called the garden spot of 
 New South Wales. A spur is sent out from the semi-circular range of hills lying 
 in the background. On its point, or very near it, stands my hut, from which I 
 have a most commanding view. The Pacific Ocean is at my feet, nine hundred 
 feet below me. The road winds round the point of the spur on which I am 
 perched, between the sea and me. The mountains all around are clothed in 
 richest verdure, from summit to base. The hill behind me rises almost perpen- 
 dicular, and is covered with many richly and variously colored wild flowers. The 
 gorgeous flowering vines creep and climb and interlace with the branches of the 
 tall trees, and altogether they form a colossal bouquet. If dame Nature be- 
 grudges us fruit, she is very lavish with flowers. Perhaps the most beautiful is 
 the waratah, or native tulip. It has a slender woody stem, from four to six feet 
 high, and is crowned by a large flower, which at first is of a delicate pink, and 
 then, as it expands, deepens into a brilliant scarlet, then into a rich crimson. 
 The Christmas tree, so called because of its use in decorations at that season, is 
 laden with small crimson flowers. The gigantic lily grows twelve feet high, and 
 bears on its head a large cluster of flowers a foot in diameter. The rock lily 
 bears a spike of wax-like flowers. The native rose is a tuft of pretty pink How- 
 ers growing on top of a stem about a foot in height, with small, oval, fleshy 
 leaves growing flat on the stem, as if pressed. There are many species of epacris, 
 which represent the heaths of some latitudes in Africa. In the lagoons we have 
 the pink lotus, a beautiful large flower, its circular leaf sometimes measuring two 
 feet in diameter, while its rose-colored flower is six inches across. 
 
 The birds of this district are more beautiful and more diversified than in any 
 other part of the colony. The most splendid pigeons are found here: the tup- 
 knot, the bronze wing, the wonga wonga, and others. We have also the lovely 
 satin bird, with beautiful eyes. When young they are dark green, speckled with 
 golden spots; when full grown they arc black and glossy like satin. I was hunt- 
 ing for a lyre bird's nest and came across a satin bird's, which was built on the 
 ground. It was shaped like a bower, about a foot long and six inches wide, of 
 beautiful trellis-work, interwoven with bright-colored threads, and shreds of scar- 
 let, blue and other colored cloths. The floor resembled Mosaic, inlaid with 
 bright-colored china, glass and pebbles. It was a beautiful piece of ingenuity. 
 There is a numerous tribe of accipitrine. Among these may be named the wedge-
 
 380 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tailed eagle, which is large, bold and fierce. The Australian eagles eat carrion. 
 A white hawk, with either red or yellow eyes, is not uncomm>3n. We have beau- 
 tiful black and white swans. I was awakened one night with the note of the 
 cuckoo sounding mournfully. I thought it very strange to hear it at midnight. 
 I discovered afterward that it was a species of owl, the boobook of Australia, 
 that has the cuckoo's note. Our song-birds are not equal to the nightingale or 
 sky-lark of Northern climes, but many of them have very sweet notes. The bell 
 bird, the coach whip, the more pork, all give out notes to please the ear. The 
 dollar bird is so named because of a circular white spot, the size of a dollar, un- 
 der each wing. The rifle bird is the most gorgeous of all the birds of Australia, 
 The friar bird has a bald head. The wattle bird has gills. The magnificent lyre 
 bird receives its name from the graceful form and arrangement of his tail feath- 
 ers, which resemble a lyre. One of the uses of the long and beautiful tail is to 
 protect the hen while incubating. He sits opposite her, spreads out his tail, and 
 as the sun moves he moves, and uses his tail as a parasol. He is a gallant bird. 
 We have a piping crow that is equal in its imitation of sounds to the American 
 mocking-bird; black and white cockatoos; every variety of parrot and parrakeet, 
 all remarkable for their beauty of form and splendor of plumage. The Alcedo 
 giganticus is the Australian king-fisher; but, instead of fish, he catches snakes. 
 Two of these ugly but useful birds will catch a snake (if large) by neck and tail, 
 fly up to some height, shaking the snake as they fly, dislocating his back in sev- 
 eral places, then drop him and leave him to die. The other birds are too numer- 
 ous to name. One species of duck builds her nest in a tree. 
 
 We have several species of bats. One is popularly called flying fox, from its 
 great size and the resemblance of its head to that of a fox. They measure from 
 three to lour feet, from the tip of one wing to the tip of the other. 
 
 The Fox Ground region is a high plateau, with a precipitous ascent; but na- 
 ture has made a stair of rocks on the face of the mountain, up which I was climb- 
 ing one day, with the Bible specimens under my arm as usual. When I reached 
 the top I sat down beside a wee burn that went meandering by. I thought of 
 the shady nooks and sunny brooks of my native land. I looked down into the 
 clear face of the water, expecting to see minnows, instead of which I saw a num- 
 ber of the queerest little animals swimming about, fearless and undisturbed. I 
 procured one and preserved it for the museum. It is the ornithorhyncus, or duck 
 bill. It belongs to the monotremata family. It burrows and it has two openings 
 to its burrow, one on land and one in water. Its young are hatched from eggs; 
 its coat is fur; it has a duck's bill; it has four legs; it is a mammal, and has the 
 rudimental bones of the marsupial pouch, and it is amphibious. 
 
 I was leaving school one day with the children when I saw another curious an- 
 imal. It looked like a hedgehog. The boys gave chase and it rolled itself up 
 like a ball and tumbled into a mud-hole, and was fast disappearing. I got a stick 
 and used it as a lever to raise his spiny hogship out of the mud. It took the 
 combined efforts of several of us to bring him out, and, when we did, I found it 
 worth the trouble. He was a fine specimen of the Echidna. He is the Australian 
 ant-eater. He looks like a hedgehog, but has a tube instead of a snout, out of 
 which protruded a long, narrow tongue, which measured seven inches. His claws
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 38 1 
 
 were long and strong. He was soon under the scalpel. When I had preserved 
 and stuffed him, I folded his four feet, each on the other, on his breast, covered 
 them with his head, and then rolled his tail over all, just as he looked when I 
 caught him — a ball full of sharp spines. He could use his feet running and bur- 
 rowing, but could roll faster than run. Now he is laid away as a specimen of 
 natural history. * * « * 
 
 About the time that the above letter was written I was receiving let- 
 ters from friendsWhat were very precious to me, and among them the 
 following : 
 
 My dear Sister Davies : Enclosed find a letter from Judge Edmunds to you. His 
 expressions of sympathy are such as I would myself write. We often think of 
 you and wonder why the Lord took you away from dear Christian friends to be 
 disappointed- among false ones. But it was for some wise purpose, and he will 
 make it plain to you. Perhaps you are already able to read this lesson of Provi- 
 dence. I have authorized Mr. Lord, of Melbourne, to draw on Mr. Edmunds 
 through us for such sums of money as you may need. I am sure that you have 
 many very warm friends here, who would share the last comfort they had with 
 Sister Eliza. May this assurance cheer you in your loneliness, my very dear 
 sister. » « * j yf\\\ ggj^^j yQy J^ package of all our latest publications. 
 Try to do all you can for us while you are in New South Wales, and, if possible, 
 come back again to where friends will gladly welcome you. Mrs. Kelly has a 
 deep interest in you. Affectionately, C. A. Buckbee. 
 
 My very dear Sister: Yours of August is just at hand. I am thankful that you 
 are alive and well. I hope you have received my letters, though you do not say 
 so. As soon as I heard from you, I was concerned to provide a way to bring you 
 home again whenever you wish. I had Mr. Buckbee to write a letter of credit 
 to Mr. Lord, so that he will send you home in one of their ships from Melbourne. 
 Mr. Buckbee also wrote to Mr. Lord to do all for you that you require. So, if at 
 any time you go to Mr. Lord, or draw upon him where you are, the drafts will 
 be honored. I also hope that you will find a home in Mr. Lord's family till you 
 can decide what to do. His house would be a Christian home. * • • 
 You may be sowing seed in those children that will spring up by and by. Your 
 firmness and Christian principles may lay the foundation for a good work. »* * • 
 
 Mr. Campbell was here on a visit lately. There is but one feeling here, that is 
 regret that you have left us. But we must have you back again. 
 
 Ever yours, in Christ, J. Edmunds. 
 
 These and kindred letters werg gratefully received, and read and re- 
 read. I felt that, though I was far off, 1 was not cast off by tliose I 
 loved. I was lovingly remembered, and commended to my heavenly 
 Father, and he will surely hear the many prayers on my behalf. I 
 wrote to Mr. Lord to j)rocure me a jjassage home, but all his, and every 
 other ship in port, were chartered to oilier countries, not one for the 
 States.
 
 382 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 One Saturday I had gone a long distance with the new publications 
 I had received. I came home to the hut tired and hungry ; for since 
 I had a girl to stay with me, I always preferred my own surroundings. 
 What was my surprise to find the hut all open, and the girl gone, bag 
 and baggage. I sat down, and had a good cry, I was so tired. I felt 
 more lonesome than ever before. I also felt a dislike to sleep in the 
 hut by myself, and the experience of going from house to house for a 
 sleeping place every night, I had no wish to renew. I asked God 
 v/hat I was to do, and I also asked him to spread his covering wings 
 over me to protect me. The next day being Lord's day, I walked to 
 church, but I stayed with one of ray patrons all night. A storm 
 blew up that night, and when I went to school in the morning, the hut 
 was almost a total wreck. The boys tried to put it to rights, but it was 
 very msecure. My scholars and myself were great friends; we had 
 formed a strong attachment for one another. They were ever ready and 
 willing to do for me everything they could, and I loved them sincerely. 
 Their improvement was marked. What was I to do at this time? My 
 life was in constant jeopardy in the hut, and I feared to live in it alone, 
 and to run from house to house for lodging I could not endure. I 
 thought I must leave, but my heart yearned over my young folks. Oh, 
 I was sorely puzzled to decide. If I could have heard of a ship sailing 
 for the States, there would have been no indecision. As it was, I could 
 not leave the colony, and I would rather stay among my children, who 
 were doing so well, for the time I stayed in the colony, than to go else- 
 where. But self-preservation bade me go, if the people would not pro- 
 vide for me a safe dwelling. 
 
 The most fearful accidents were occurring daily. The men, as a 
 rule, were dreadfully dissipated. They would drink, and dress, and 
 ride about on court days, and leave their wives and little children to 
 do all the drudgery of the stock yard and dairy. One man was burned 
 to death while intoxicated; another in the same state fell off his horse, 
 and was killed on the spot; a tree fell on another; another was drowned; 
 all in a few days. These poor illiterate men were making money fast, 
 but spending it in a way to destroy themselves. I thought I must do 
 something for them. I could only reach them through the medium of 
 my pen. I wrote a piece in the local newspaper headed, A Warning 
 Voice. It was based on passing events. The facts were startling, and 
 as my noin de pluvie was" A Stranger," my article was read by all the 
 men who could read, and they were few ; but then the children read 
 for those who cpuld not read, and for a while the drunkard's cup was
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 383 
 
 held in abeyance. The young men and lads became more thciightful. 
 
 I created quite a sensation among my patrons one day. I told them 
 very emphatically that I must leave them, self-preservation demanded 
 it. I told them I had been teaching for them one year, exposed to 
 every kind of difficulty, danger and privation. They had fed me on 
 promises, but fulfilled none; not one. All my promises I had kept to 
 the letter. They were all very anxious to have me stay with them; but 
 though a kind heavenly Father had cared for me, and protected me 
 thus far, I was in doubt whether it was my duty to remain. I felt that 
 I had no courage to live as I had lived for the last year. A dark 
 cloud seemed to hang over my pathway. I had been kept up hoping 
 a ship would come; thirfailing, and men's promises failing, and no im- 
 provement in my circumstances, altogether I did not know which way 
 to turn. I asked the Lord to clear my way, that I might know which 
 way to go. 
 
 I had been offered the hospitalities of many houses, but all to no 
 purpose. One of my richest patrons, a man who had been a candi- 
 date for Parliament last election time, told me I was welcome to a 
 home in his house if I could "put up as they did." I went to his 
 house one cold, stormy night. This rich man's house could boast of 
 only one fire-place, and that was in the kitchen. Into this I was 
 ushered by the mistress of the mansion, who placed a chair and wiped 
 it with her apron ere she allowed me to sit down in the midst of the 
 family group, which consisted of the master and mistress, and a num- 
 ber of young men and maidens. I could not distinguish the sons from 
 the servants. Their dress and conversation all savored of the cow- 
 I^en and pig-sty. The merits and demerits of every cow and calf and 
 pig were discussed in most approved stockyard style. After partaking 
 of a family meal with Pat, Mat and Biddy, I excused myself, and 
 asked to be taken to my room. I was conducted through a dirty yard 
 in the rain to my sleeping apartment, which was a shed, with a wide 
 slab shelf at each side of the room. In front of each hung a calico 
 curtain, having a small space between the two for the door to ojK-n. 
 
 On one of these shelves I was to sleep with Miss G . I thought 
 
 it looked narrow enough for one; but when we were both in I had to 
 lie very straight and very close to the wet wall. I tried to forget my- 
 self in sleep, but was soon aroused by a man's voice addressing me. 
 I was startled and sat up. Again I was addressed by the same voice. 
 Miss G laughed, and said: 
 
 "It's only father going to bed."
 
 384 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 So father and mother slept on the other shelf. I could not sleep 
 with the idea of a man being in the room. I was afraid that Miss 
 
 G would think me a bad sleeper and a troublesome bedfellow. 
 
 Between the narrow bed and wet bedclothes, the small roor^i and so 
 many in it, I had not much trouble to keep awake. I let my room- 
 mates get up before me. When left to myself I thought I would get 
 up, wash, have a warm and go to school. I could find no water, so I 
 dressed and had a cup of boiled tea and a piece of bread for break- 
 fast. Then I wended my way to the hut on Hurricane Hill. I con- 
 cluded that I could not "put up" as this rich man's family did, or as 
 ray patrons did. They had no idea of cleanliness or comfort, but 
 they wasted money on drink and dress. When I went into the empty 
 hut now I always felt very lonely. 
 
 The patrons met to see what could be done to keep me. They said 
 the children could not do without me. I told them that I loved the 
 children, and I had no opportunity to go back to my friends, and I 
 had no other situation in view. So that I had no inducement to leave 
 them. But seeing they cared nothing for me I was compelled to leave 
 them. I did not intend to ask anything from them, for I had no faith 
 in their promises. They had seen me struggling against every kind of 
 difiiculty with perfect indifference. I had become inured to hardships, 
 such as I never knew till I came amongst them. My wants were few 
 and easily supplied. But what I really did want, not one of them 
 could supply, viz. : a room to myself. Every storm that blew endan- 
 gered my life in the hut; for some part of it tumbled down every 
 stormy night. I told them if they appreciated my services as highly 
 as they professed, they would care more for my comfort, at least for 
 my safety, than they ever did. Moreover, the spirit of distrust was so 
 strong among them, that no one could collect my money for me, nor 
 would they give it to myself, and so they had made me suffer. 
 
 My patrons at last saw the necessity of building me a room for my 
 security. I told them I could not trust them, they had so often prom- 
 ised and failed to fulfill their promise. One man got up and said: 
 
 "Rather than Mrs. Davies shall go, I shall build her a room against 
 my house, at my own expense, and my daughter shall wait on her." 
 
 His daughter was the pretty girl who attracted me to her the first 
 time I saw her. She had wonderfully improved in every way. If 
 this was done, and my school fees promptly paid, I said I would stay 
 with them another year, if no ship went to the States from Sydney or 
 Melbourne.
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 385 
 
 Boxes of books and the American Bible Union publications arrived 
 at Sydney. I gave my school a week's holiday and went to Sydney. 
 I stayed at Mr. Dixon's, my old friend. On pleasant mornings and 
 moonlight nights we went out boating down the harbor. This was 
 delightful, and we also had pleasant drives. Mr. Williams, the ex- 
 American ConsuJ, passed the cases through the Custom-house. I ha5 
 a great supply of books, and now I wished to dispose of them. I 
 asked Mr. Merril, the American Consul, to introduce me to Gov. Sir 
 Wm. Denison. He said he would introduce me to the Colonial Sec- 
 retary, and he would introduce me, in court dress, to His Excellency. 
 I said the word of God did not need so much dress and ceremony to 
 be introduced to His Excellency. I asked for Sir Wm. Denison' s 
 titles, and left the Consulate. I wrote a note to the governor, stated 
 my business, and asked if he would grant me an audience. I was 
 about to send a messenger, but to save time I concluded to carry the 
 note to Government House myself. I asked the hall porter if Sir 
 Wm. Denison was at home ? 
 
 "Yes," said the man, "but he can't see you; this is not one of the 
 visiting days," and he rather grandly pomted to a tablet on the wall, 
 saying : "That will tell you when His E.xcellency receives visitors." 
 
 I threw my note on the table without looking at the tablet, and 
 said, "Take that to His Excellency, and he will tell me whether he 
 will receive me." 
 
 He took the note, and in a few minutes returned, cap in hand, 
 bowing most obsequiously, and throwing the folding-doors open, bade 
 me enter. Another door opened and I was in a large room; a gen- 
 tleman at the end of a long table held my note in his hand, and asked, 
 "Are you the lady who wrote this note ?" 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 He said, in almost as pompous a tone as the porter used, "Follow 
 me, and you shall have an audience of His Excellency now." 
 
 I followed him; another wide door was thrown open, and I was in- 
 troduced to the Governor-General of Australia. He was seated at 
 the far end of the room, and as I went up to him he rose and pointed 
 to a chair for me to be seated. Without any embarrassing prelimina- 
 ries, His Excellency opened the business at once, by saying : 
 
 "I have read your note and I understand it, for it is very concise. 
 Now allow me to ask a few questions." 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 He asked who were engaged in the enterprise? What was their 
 
 25
 
 386 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 object? King James' version was dear to all hearts, why change it? 
 I said the inspired word was not to be changed, only the mistransla- 
 tions, and to give us a correct translation in the English of the present 
 day. He asked a great many questions, and listened with pleased 
 attention to my answers. He said the whole thing was new to him, 
 but that he would like to have the work to study. "And I will surely 
 give you my patronage, and will either give you a donation, or become 
 a subscriber." 
 
 He then laughed, and said: "What would my brother say, who is a 
 Bishop in the High Church, were he to know that I patronized and 
 paid into an American society to revise and re-translate King James' 
 version of the Bible." 
 
 I smiled, and said : ' 'Your Excellency is of age, you can act for 
 yourself without responsibility, even to your brother." 
 
 "True," said he. 
 
 The reception this great man gave me was so gracious, his manner 
 so kind and cordial, his readiness to give his money, his patronage 
 and the use of his name to induce others to follow his example, were 
 all gratifying and encouraging. In the name of the Bible Union I 
 thanked him. 
 
 "No thanks; no thanks are due tome; I being a High Church 
 man, the church may not approve of my action ; but I think all the 
 difference of opinfon is, after all, moonshine. If we look straight to 
 the Lord prayerfully to enlighten our darkness, we would know the 
 truth without so many divisions in the church. For my own part, I shall 
 seek truth and find it where I can, without the aid of the church," he 
 said. 
 
 When I was preparing to leave it began to rain very heavily. I 
 was invited to keep my seat, and Sir William asked innumerable ques- 
 tions. He seemed greatly interested in America and in my mission. 
 We were interested in each other's chat for more than two hours; then 
 he dismissed me, sending his footman to carry an umbrella for me. I 
 thanked God for my success. 
 
 My friend Mr. D said: "That was a bold step of yours to go 
 
 to Government House, to the governor of all the Australias, without 
 an introduction in due form. I hope you have learned a lesson in 
 humility by the rebuff you must have had for trying to introduce the 
 work of a few obscure Americans for His Excellency to patronize." 
 
 "I have learned the lesson of humility, and my gracious reception 
 at Government House, and great success in my mission, has added to
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 387 
 
 my original stock ; as I could not say that I had the honor of an in- 
 troduction to His Excellency by the Hon. H. P , I found that it 
 
 did not require the pride of position to introduce the pure word of 
 God into Government House. So my humble trust in God's goodness 
 to give me favor to enable me to stand before governors, or even kings 
 if need be, to plead for a pure version of His word, has greatly in- 
 creased," I said. 
 
 My friend Mr. D did not admire the Americans. 
 
 I had an audience with His Lordship, the Metropolitan Bishop of 
 Australia, with a far different result. I was introduced to the great 
 man, who was petticoated and aproned up to the chin and down to the 
 knees, and gaitered down to the toes. This kind of dress made the 
 bishop look taller than he is, though he is seven feet in height. Truly 
 he is a pillar in the church. As he turned over the leaves of Acts of 
 Apostles he said, he could not sympathize with the reviser of it, and 
 he spoke of another reviser who was a dissenter. 
 
 "Therefore," said he, "I will not countenance it." 
 
 I ventured to ask if he thought King James' version correct. 
 
 "No," he said; "but where twenty corrections might me made, one 
 might be made that would injure the church." 
 
 "But if that one correction be the truth, what then?" 
 
 "The fact is," said His Lordship, "I am too English to wish the new 
 translation a success, or a wide circulation. I will not patronize it, 
 but when the work is finished, I should like to have it as a literary 
 curiosity. It will greatly help scholars to study divinity." 
 
 We had quite a long discussion. He smiled very pleasantly, and 
 said, "I commend you for your zeal, and for your sake I wisli 1 could 
 encourage you; bnt your zeal is not in a good cause." 
 
 I thought I could not be better employed than in pleading for a 
 pure version of God's word. I visited several of the most wealthy 
 of t!ie members of Parliament, using the governor's name as I was 
 allowed, and I was very successful in gaining memberships and dona- 
 tions, just because the governor had set the example. Others were 
 interested in the work. 
 
 j^[r. W had been returned member of Parliament for Kiama, 
 
 and was in Sydney. He called to see me, and invited me to go with 
 him to the House of Parliament, to hear some very important spee<:hes 
 
 on education. I went, accompanied by Mrs. D , and we heard 
 
 some splendid speaking. Mr. W took us all over the two Houses 
 
 of Parliament. He made himself very agreeable. 1 left Sydney highly
 
 388 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 gratified liy my great success for the Bible Union, and strengthened 
 for my duties. 
 
 One very hot Sunday I was walking over the rough road to church, 
 with a white dress and scarlet scarf on. My scarf attracted my notice, 
 the color was so painfully glaring in the sunlight. Living so much 
 alone, I often communed with my own heart, and perhaps had strange 
 fancies. My scarf reminded me of the scarlet sins of the human race, 
 which must be painfully glaring to the Son of God, who knew no sin. 
 My white dress, pure and clean, reminded me of the sinless purity of 
 Christ's character. Again my scarf reminded me of Christ's blood 
 that was shed for my sins, to provide for me the white robe of his 
 righteousness. I loved to wear white. I went into a house to rest, 
 where sat a young lady from Sydney. She said she would not walk 
 over such a rough road, under such a broiling sun, six miles to church, 
 if she were to gain heaven at the end of her walk. I told her she could 
 not set a very high value upon her soul. I walked my six miles to, 
 and six miles from, church, and though I always had blistered feet and 
 sick headache, I was always thankful to be able to enjoy the privilege 
 of the Lord's house. 
 
 My room was finished and furnished, and I felt more secure in the 
 "Dove's Nest" than in the hut on the hill. One day, when I was pa- 
 pering the little room, a fit of weakness came over me, not bodily, but 
 mental, of which I was heartily ashamed. I was pasting old copy- 
 books on the openings of the rough slabs with my hands. Splinters ran 
 into my hands, and I became very tired, when a picture rose before 
 my mind. A large drawing-room elegantly furnished, with rich carpet 
 and curtains, mirrors and chandeHers, and white and gold paper. This 
 room was but one in a splendid mansion, whose owner had wished me 
 to accept his hand and heart, and share with him his beautiful home. 
 I declined his generous offer, and while I w^as pulling the splinters out 
 of my hands, I sat down on the bare floor, and asked myself, why did 
 I refuse that, to come to this? It was a hard question. I fairly A'ept 
 at the contrast of what was, and what might have been. Again the 
 question came up, why did I refuse the owner of carriages, horses and 
 an elegant home, with the hand of a very worthy gentleman? He was 
 not a Christian. Some people might say, "was that all?" I rose up, 
 and wiped my eyes. I felt that I had made a sacrifice for Christ ; but 
 what was that to what he had done for me. The throne, the crown of 
 the universe, he had laid aside, and had accepted a life of poverty and 
 privation, and a shameful death for me, that I might enjoy an everlast-
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 3S9 
 
 ing mansion eternal in the heavens. I asked to be forgiven for looking 
 back to the fleshpots of Egypt. 
 
 Mr. M , at whose house I lived, took ill, and his wife was 
 
 alarmed for his life, as the doctor held out no hope of recovery. Poor 
 
 man, he was neither ready nor willing to die. Poor Mrs. M could 
 
 not read the written instructions of the doctor, and could not give the 
 medicine at the proper time, and she was distressed. I told her that 
 I would give them all my spare time out of school, and help her to 
 nurse her sick husband. When I closed school for the holidays, I gave 
 myself up to nursing. The poor man was getting so alarmed at the 
 prospect of death, that he wished me to be in his room all the time. 
 He wished me to hear what the doctor said, and tell him if there was 
 any hope. I directed him to the Great Physician, Avho could heal his 
 soul, if he would as anxiously and earnestly seek after Him. He could 
 give life eternal. 
 
 "Och, I am not fit to die." 
 
 "Ask God," I said, "to prepare you either for living or dying." 
 He wished to live to be a better man; but I told him that if he re- 
 covered, he might do as many others did— fall back into the old ways, 
 and feel ashamed of the fear that he had in his extremity. 
 
 "Och, no; I will ne'er forget, nor be ashamed, if God will only let 
 me live to prepare to die. Och, I can not prepare now. Dear Mrs. 
 Davies, ax God to let me live." 
 
 The poor man was in agony, both in soul and body. I read to him, 
 and prayed, and talked to him, and nursed him, and gave him all the 
 comfort I could. But the mournful refrain was: "Och, I'm afeerd to 
 die; I am not prepared to die; I can't prepare now." One morning 
 I took my seat in a corner, when the doctor came to see the patient. 
 He left the medicine, and told what symptom was to be relieved by it. 
 I had noticed that all the* symptoms had yielded to the treatment, and 
 wondered why the doctor never held out hope to the poor man. I 
 never had spoken to the doctor, but followed up his instructions to the 
 letter, and began to hope the sick man would get well, in si)ite of the 
 ominous shake of the doctor's head, and his solemn looks. His orders 
 this day were to apply leeches to the man's back, and not to allow any 
 one to enter the sick room, on pain of causing the instant death of the 
 man, and he was to hear no noise of any kind. The i)oor man felt 
 doomed. He looked at me almost despairingly; but I looked cheer- 
 ful, and reassured him. Mrs. M could not put on the leeches, 
 
 and I had never handled one in my life, so we thought some one wlu)
 
 390 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 knew how to apply them should be sent for. But the doctor's orders 
 were emphatic, no one was to go into his room, or death might be the 
 
 result. Mrs. M could do nothing for her husband, and he begged 
 
 me to apply the leeches. I turned sick at the idea, but said, as cheer- 
 fully as I could, I will try, and it was a great trial. I got up on the 
 bed behind the man with a tumbler full of the snaky-looking things, and 
 began to apply them. The doctor's orders, that no one should disturb 
 the sick, flew around the neighborhood, and was a signal for all to 
 come and see the man die. I heard them tramping into the kitchen, 
 till it was full; then the yard was vocal with their loud noise, and two 
 loud-tongued women came bouncing into the room. One of them 
 screamed out, 
 
 "Och, och, Edward, yee's going to die, yees are," and she wrung 
 her hands, and went on louder with her lament. 
 
 The poor man looked up in my face in a perfect agony of fear; 
 great beads of perspiration stood on his brow. I said very quietly that 
 
 Mr. M was very ill, and the doctor had said that no one was to 
 
 come into the room; quietness was the only chance he had for life. 
 This virago turned to the other, and said : 
 
 "De yees hear dat," and turning to me, she shook her fist in my 
 face, and said, "If the man died I would be to blame; why did not I 
 have another doctor." 
 
 "The man is not getting the right treatment," the other woman said^ 
 
 I asked her if she knew the disease. She said it was not for her to 
 say what was the disease. 
 
 Then I said, "It is not for you to talk of the treatment." 
 
 These two abused me, and threatened me with the court, that I was 
 helping the doctor to kill the man. In the midst of the hubbub, a cry 
 in the yard, "The doctor is coming." The two vixens fled into another 
 little room next to the sick room, where they could hear and see every- 
 thing that was going on. The doctor heard the noise of retreating feet, 
 and came into the room with flaming eyes and red face, but saw no 
 one but the sick man and myself. He in a loud, stern tone asked, 
 what I was doing there. I told him in a very quiet tone, that I was 
 obeying his orders. 
 
 "Who told you to put leeches there?" he thundered out. 
 
 "You left orders to have it done," I said. 
 
 "I never did. You are killing the man by such treatment." 
 
 I quickly took off the leeches, and sprang out of the bed, and said 
 to the doctor: "If the man dies, because leeches were put on him,
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS 391 
 
 you shall have to account for his death; for you gave the order." 
 
 He raged, and stamped with his feet, and said some very ugly things. 
 I told him I had thought him competent to attend this case, but now I 
 altered my mind. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he roared. 
 
 "I mean that this morning you did not know what you were saying; 
 or if you did, then you do not now know what you are saying or doing. 
 Your positive orders were to put leeches on, and to keep perfect quiet- 
 ness in the house — no noise to excite the man, or he might die at anv 
 moment. This evening you find me carrying out your orders, and I 
 have been trying to enforce quiet. You come and deny that you gave 
 such orders, and practically set at naught your own injunctions, by 
 making more noise, and creating more excitement, than has been in 
 the house since the man took sick. And because I have been follow- 
 ing your instructions to the letter, I get the low, vulgar abuse of a man, 
 whose profession had led me to think he was a gendeman. In that, 
 as well as in managing the case, I am mistaken. I have till now set 
 my face against calling another doctor. I now recommend a consulta- 
 tion, or to take the case out of your hand altogether." 
 
 In a perfect storm of angCF, he stamped his foot and asked, "Who 
 are you?" 
 
 "I am a woman," I answered; "and if you knew how to speak to 
 one, I should be pleased to have more to say to you; as it is, I shall 
 have nothing more to say to you, or do with your patient," and I 
 walked out through the crowd to my own room. 
 
 Mrs. M came for me after a while. The doctor wanted me, he 
 
 wished to put himself in a better light professionally; but I wished to 
 have no more to say to him, so he left the house. Then the women 
 came out, saying they were glad the doctor scolded me, and they or- 
 dered me to send for another doctor. I said I should do no such 
 thing; I was not the proper person to do it; that I had done more for 
 their friend than they had. I had nursed him night and day for weeks, 
 now they could nurse him. I had done my part. 
 
 When the house was cleared, poor Mrs. M came to me in great 
 
 distress, begging me not to give her poor sick man up because of that 
 scolding doctor and the two bad-tongucd women. She said nobody 
 else could do anything with him or for him but me, and he would die 
 sure enough if I gave him up. I went in to see him. 
 
 "Och, och," he groaned, and burst into tears, and said, "Dear Mrs.
 
 392 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Davies, don't lave me; don't give me up. Och, don't lave me, and 
 God will bless you shure." 
 
 I told him to cheer up, I was sure he would get better, and I would 
 not leave him. Early next morning the doctor came, accompanied by 
 Mr. CJ — . I was called, not to consult with the doctor, but to receive 
 a thousand and one apologies from the blandest and politest of doctors. 
 
 "I did not know who you were, or I should never have spoken to 
 
 you as I did. I told Mr. G last evening that I had seen a stranger 
 
 at this house and did not know who she was. When Mr. G told 
 
 me who you were, I was mortified, and do feel sorry for my conduct. 
 I brought Mr. G — with me to plead for my pardon." 
 
 I told him I had nothing to forgive, he had only placed himself in 
 
 an unfavorable light. The doctor's manner told Mr. M as usual 
 
 that he was worse, but I told him he was better, and he got well very 
 rapidly. I read the Bible for him, and talked to him of God's good- 
 ness to him, and he made many professions and promises of amend- 
 ment when he got well, and he has kept them to the present day, 
 though many years have passed since that time. 
 
 The doctor sent his wife and daughter to see me. Mrs. H was 
 
 a very elegant lady, and his daughter a sweet young girl. I returned 
 their call after a long time. They were very pressing in their invita- 
 tion to have me call at their house and rest as I went to and from 
 Kiama. I was waylaid sometimes on Sunday, and compelled to go 
 in, and though I was an unwilling guest at first, I found the fomily so 
 very agreeable that we became great friends, and our friendship con- 
 tinued many years, till we were separated by thousands of miles. The 
 doctor was as kind and gentlemanly as could be, though our introduc- 
 tion was so strange. 
 
 Our little church at Kiama took a backward step. Some Calvinistic 
 Baptists joined it, and tried to bring their influence against the Scrip- 
 tural breaking of the loaf every Lord's day, and succeeded in tinging 
 some one or two of the members with Calvinism. One old couple 
 had joined who were very deeply prejudiced against anything but the 
 hard-to-believe doctrines of Calvin. On coming out of church one 
 day she handed me a pamphlet, and asked me if I had lent it to Mr. 
 H ? I said I had lent it, and many others. This one was, Sin- 
 cerity Seeking the Way to Heaven. She said, with some bitterness, 
 "That book ought to be burned, and all others like it." She said 
 I ought to be ashamed to introduce such heretical works. I told 
 her I was not at all ashamed, and would do all I could to en-
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 393 
 
 lighten the people more, by lending others. She said I ought to be 
 turned out of the church, and said she would do all in her power to 
 oppose me, and she would burn all the books that I lent that she could 
 get her hands on. I told her I hoped she would pay for them, and T 
 could send for more. 
 
 We had another of the fearful storms that spread desolation and 
 death around — tropical floods sweeping everything before them. The 
 elements waged a fearful war for more than a week. The damage 
 done was incalculable. People killed by lightning ; houses and farms 
 and farm implements, with cattle, horses, hogs, sheep, and the inhab- 
 itants, swept down with resistless force to the ocean by the merciless 
 floods. A few weeks ago, or even days, where was a flourishing farm, 
 with waving crops of grain, cattle pasturing, a large dairy, a comfort- 
 able dwelling-house, barns well filled, and everything prospering, there 
 was now nothing to be seen but the naked, barren rock exposed to 
 view. All above, around, below, had been visited by this terrific 
 deluge. Nothing so wide-spread, so devastating, had ever been 
 known here. Mothers, trying to save their children by crossing a 
 stream to get to a safer spot, had the children torn from their arms 
 by the rushing waters, bearing them to the ocean. People on top of 
 hay-stacks, who had sought safety there, were being swept to the sea 
 without the power to save themselves. Sometimes these stacks would 
 split in the middle, and down sank the shrieking people into the roar- 
 ing torrent ere they reached the sea. The coast for miles and miles 
 was strewn with wrecked houses, furniture, pianos and dairy utensils, 
 horses, hogs, cattle, sheep and human beings, all washed up together in 
 heaps. The low lands of several districts were under water. Steamers 
 from Sydney came down and sailed over the farms and picked up here 
 and there a survivor. Seventy half nude people were saved off an 
 island at the mouth of the Shoalhaven River, who had been washed 
 down from the higher regions. Had these not been providentially 
 seen, they would have perished of hunger and cold. They had lost 
 everything they possessed on earth. All the bridges over all the rivers 
 were washed away. Fences, walls and the crops inclosed, were all swej)! 
 away, and the whole country for hundreds of square miles laid waste, 
 and the outlet of the rivers blocked up with the debris. The district 
 was cut off from all communication with other places. The house 
 where I dwelt was built in a valley, and we saw the swollen mountain 
 torrents rushing down upon us, laden with stones and heavy timber, 
 with fearful velocity, rumbling and tuml)ling at a great rale. Nothing
 
 394 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 could impede the i^rogress of the angry waters; every obstacle was 
 hurled down, and we thought our destruction inevitable; but just as 
 \ve expected the crash the waters divided, and made a deep channel 
 at each side of the house, and went roaring by, leaving us on a Uttle 
 island, not high and dry, but out of danger. The rain poured out of 
 the clouds as if it would drown us. But we were saved, and thanked 
 God for our preservation. Subscriptions were taken up everywhere 
 for the destitute. I had my scholars to give something. A corre- 
 spondent wrote to the local paper a report which pleased the children 
 when I read it to them : 
 
 It pleases me to tell that the children of Mount Pleasant school have subscribed 
 the sum of ^i. 5s. lod. (^6.50) toward the Shoalhaven Relief Fund. This 
 is a ready response to a mention of the matter by their respected teacher, Mrs. 
 Davies, who also told them that as their parents had already given to the same 
 fund that they were not to ask for money, but they, the children, were to seek 
 opportunities to earn money, if it were ever so little a sum; and it was in this 
 way, gathering eggs, and doing little extra jobs, that the money was earned. And 
 thus the children learned a practical lesson in two important elements of educa- 
 tion, viz.: benevolence and industry. J. B. 
 
 How awfully grand to see old ocean in a fury. Sometimes he is so 
 for a week. Just before the devastating floods and the hurricane men- 
 tioned above, I saw from my hut window on the hill an awe-inspiring 
 sight. Two gigantic pillars stood on the sea, their bases resting on 
 the water, embedded in foam, their capitals supporting the sky and 
 enveloped in a cloud black as night. They seemed for a time motion- 
 less, then they broke in the middle and were absorbed by the cloud 
 above and the foam beneath. These were waterspouts, the first I 
 had ever seen. They were the forerunners of the fearful hurricane 
 that was so destructive. 
 
 Another beautiful, awe-inspiring sight was seen one night, and it 
 very much alarmed the people. The Aurora Australis presented a 
 scene of surpassing magnificence. It was bright, like crimson. A 
 mass of light poured through the transparent curtain, and the stars 
 seemed to project and hang down as on clear nights, when the celestial 
 bodies appeared to be suspended from the deep blue canopy. 
 
 Mr. M rose from his sick-bed a better man. A family Bible 
 
 was bought, and a chapter was read every night, and prayer was offered 
 in the family. I taught a grown son and a servant girl at night, and 
 kept up my long walks for the Bible Union on Saturday and to church 
 on Sunday, My letters from American friends all wished me to leave,
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 395 
 
 • but without a ship this was impossible. I was suppHed with fresh 
 boxes of publications from the American Bible Union, and Mr. Ed- 
 munds wished me to go to Melbourne, where I would have cultivated 
 society. 
 
 "God did not make you to live in solitude," he said; "your devo- 
 tion to the cause of pure versions of God's word under so great dis- 
 advantages excites our admiration." 
 
 The year that I had promised to remain at Hurricane Hill School 
 was at an end, and as my American friends wished me to go to Mel- 
 bourne, and introduce the new version there, I gave notice that I 
 should have a public examination of my school. I invited gentlemen 
 who had been most indifferent to my work among the poor, and those 
 most opposed to it, besides the parents of the scholars, to come and 
 examine my school. The result is described in the following article 
 from the Illawarra Me7xury. 
 
 Want of schools in the district has been a great evil for a long time. So far as 
 this evil could be averted by one school, and that conducted by a lady, it has 
 been by that of Mount Pleasant, as an examination held on Wednesday fully 
 proved. The teacher, Mrs. Davies, being about to leave there, was desirous of 
 having a public examination, and the children and their parents resolved on add- 
 ing a social tea-meeting to the "stranger," who for two years has lived and la- 
 bored among them. Materials for tables were carried a long way, and a variety 
 of softer and sweeter material underwent curious processes preparatory to appear- 
 ing on said tables. 
 
 The day was fine, the school-room was decorated, and the scholars were exam- 
 ined on all the useful branches they had been taught. The teacher examined 
 them on Bible history, grammar, punctuation, etc. Rev. Mr. Ashwin had a class, 
 trying them severely on geography, history, and the products of different coun- 
 tries. In everything on which tliey were tried they acquitted themselves admir- 
 ably. Two large, handsome samplers, elegantly framed, hung against the wall. 
 On a table were spread several pieces of fancy-work, showing much taste in de- 
 sign, as well as skill in the working, and altogetlicr forming a beautiful di>-i)Iay 
 that would do credit to any school. About 2 o'clock P. M. the tables were sprea<l. 
 The cakes were abundant and of first quality. * * * On the hillside 
 the boys enjoyed a scramble for oranges. No doubt the scramble made the fruit 
 taste all the sweeter. After tea the elder scholars read essays, which were well 
 written, alternating with recitations pleasingly delivered, some of them causing 
 
 much amusement. Mr. G examined the school on arithmetic, and was well 
 
 pleased with their proficiency. 
 
 Mrs. Davies read a farewell address, impressing on her pupils the necessity of 
 carrying onward for themselves the education of which only llic seeds could be 
 sown at school by the teacher. To the jjarcnts she spoke forcibly of the iinpor- 
 tance of home influence in forming the character of youth, and most affeclionalely
 
 396 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 exhorted her children to remember the religious instruction, which, with earnesi 
 prayer and desire for their eternal welfare, she had striven to impart to them. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Ashwin addressed the meeting, praising in highest terms Mrs. 
 Davies' teaching, shown by its fruits in the very creditable acquirements of her 
 scholars. He wished very much that we could secure such a teacher; saying noth. 
 ing but the finger of God in Providence, plainly pointing to her to go, as having 
 her work done here, could justify her leaving, or the parents allowing her to go. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Wilson followed with a very interesting address. Mr. ratified all 
 
 that the other speakers had said in praise of the teacher and her teaching. And 
 the pleasant day terminated with an appropriate prayer by Mr. Ashwin. Some 
 five or six of the leading persons present had a consultation with Mrs. Davies on 
 the possibility of keeping her a few months longer, till the National School-House 
 was ready for use. I hope they will succeed in securing the services of this teacher 
 of acknowledged merit. 
 
 I had invited all the gentlemen to the examination who had first op- 
 posed me, and who had thrown obstacles in my way, and surrounded 
 me with difiiculties, that they hoped would be insurmountable. These 
 had watched me closely for two years, and now they closely examined 
 the work I had been doing, and their prejudices were disarmed. I 
 examined the scholars on Bible questions, to the satisfaction of all those 
 who had wished me to teach the Church of England, Church of Scot- 
 land, Church of Wesley and Church of Rome catechisms. 
 
 I asked a Roman Catholic boy if the bread that Christ broke at the 
 last supper was his body. The prompt answer was, 
 
 "No." 
 
 I said, "Why, you know that our Lord said himself, 'This is my 
 body, broken for you; eat you all of it.' " 
 
 "Yes," said the boy; "but that was a figure of speech; the bread 
 was a symbol of his body. He was outside of the bread when he brake 
 it, yet he said, 'This is my body.' " 
 
 "Do you think, when Christ did not put himself into the bread, any 
 one else ought to do it." 
 
 "No," said the boy; "and if they tried, they could not do it, for 
 Christ is in heaven now, and they can not get to hiui." 
 
 "Well, suppose they could put Christ's body into the bread, and his 
 blood into the wine, and this was to be eaten and drunk at the Lord's 
 table, what would you think of it?" 
 
 "Why," said the boy, "those who ate and drank would be cannibals 
 sure." 
 
 "Did Christ ever teach cannibalism?" 
 
 "Oh, no."
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 397 
 
 "You are laying a bad foundation for that boy's profession," said a 
 gentleman present. 
 
 I asked what was to be his profession. 
 
 "He has been consecrated and set apart for the Roman priest's office." 
 
 "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not," is a 
 divine injunction, and I am trying to bring them to him by removing 
 obstacles. I went to that boy's house one day after that, and found 
 the father, an intelligent Romanist, poring over the Bible. 
 
 I closed school, but ere I could get away, they had my consent to 
 reopen school till Christmas at least. I said I would remain, if no ship 
 should sail to America before that time. I hated to leave my children 
 without a teacher, and when the new school-house was built they would 
 have one; so I gave them a little more of my time. 
 
 On the night after my school closed for a week, we were talking, and 
 listening to a howling storm, when a loud cry of distress alarmed us. 
 We ran to the door to listen, when the cry continued. A man had 
 
 come for some one to go to Mrs. B , who was dying. It was so 
 
 dark, and the rain pouring down, he could not reach the house. I 
 said I would go with him. The storm was howling at such a rate, that 
 nothing but a case of life and death would have taken me out on such 
 
 a night. Mr. M accompanied me to the house with a lantern. 
 
 We had to cHmb hills, wade across creeks, and get over and under 
 fences as best we could, till we reached where the sick woman lay. 
 She was lying in the midst of filth and dirt, all unconscious of her state. 
 Several women of the lowest kind were in the house helping themselves 
 to whatever suited them, to the total neglect of the poor woman. Not 
 one seemed to have a thought of her. This young sick woman, when 
 in health, did not care for those around her; now she was sick, and 
 she was neglected. When I went in, and saw how matters were, I put 
 the things to rights a little, and had the bed made comfortable for the 
 poor creature. I then told the people that I would release them for 
 the night, as I intended sitting up all night— they could go home, 
 every one of them, as I preferred sitting alone. An outcry was raised 
 at this, as they all had prepared for a good time feasting that night. 
 
 They said that if Mrs. B took a convulsion, I could not hold her. 
 
 I told them that, as they all lived near, if I needed help I would call 
 them; but I insisted on being left alone with the sick woman. I took 
 up my lonely watch by the sick bed, listening to the howling storm 
 without, and every blast that came sweeping past swcj)! through the 
 open slabs of the house, and ere the morning dawned, 1 was stiff with
 
 398 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 cold; my limbs were cramped. I had passed a dreary night, but I felt 
 that I had performed a Christian duty to a poor woman; I had soothed 
 and quieted her in her ravings and tossings. While moistening the 
 lips of the poor sufferer, I prayed to my heavenly Father, that he would 
 raise up friends for me in my hour of need. I sat up with this woman 
 five nights and most of the days, until she was out of danger. Her life 
 had hung upon a hair all the time. She had a husband and child, who 
 were wrapped up in her life, and I did what I could for them. When 
 
 Mrs. B recovered her consciousness, she asked me what I was 
 
 doing there. I told her I had been nursing her. Again she asked: 
 
 "Why did jou nurse me? Did any one ask you to nurse me?" 
 
 "No one asked me to nurse you," I said; "but you needed nursing 
 and watching, and God put it into my heart to do what I could for you." 
 
 She was overwhelming in her thanks to me. I directed her mind 
 to her loving Lord, who had raised up a friend for her in her time of 
 need, and who had given her back her life, when she had been given 
 up to die by the doctor and all her friends. God had saved her life, 
 that she might have time to look to him for the saving of her soul. 
 Physically I was quite prostrated by my long, cold and lonely vigils, 
 but I was strengthened spiritually. 
 
 I took another trip to Sydney. Mrs. D had written that she 
 
 was about to leave Sydney for a distant part of the colony, and she 
 thought we might never meet again; so I went to see her. Meantime 
 more books came. I took a portion of them to Sir Wm. Denison; had 
 a pleasant interview with him, and a long conversation. 
 
 I had sent for several copies of Hadji in Syria, by Miss Sallie Bar- 
 clay. I left a copy as a present for Lady Denison with the governor. 
 
 She wrote a beautiful letter of thanks. Mr. M , the American 
 
 Consul, and Mr. and Mrs. W , were all thoroughly interested in 
 
 my work, and said they would do all they could for the work at Syd- 
 ney, while I was working at lUawarra. I returned to my work after 
 a pleasant visit to Sydney. 
 
 A note in my journal reads: "October 15, i860. Those who enjoy 
 church privileges at their very door, or have a conveyance to take them 
 there, ought to prize the privilege. My twelve miles' walk every Lord's 
 day makes me always very sick, and to save myself a little (I was not 
 well enough to walk the whole distance), I started on Saturday, think- 
 ing to stay all night at Kiama. But I was taken suddenly ill on the 
 road; had to go into a house to recover myself a little. I grew worse, 
 and had to stay there all night, to my own and the people's great in-
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 399 
 
 convenience. I was not able to walk to church on Sunday, or yet to 
 
 walk home, and I had no one to carry a message to Mr. M 's for 
 
 me, to tell them where I was. I did not reach home till Tuesday. I 
 was very weak, but I went to work." 
 
 On the 28th, I witnessed a pleasant sight, a father baptizing a son. 
 Bright sunshine ushered in the morn; but while our little church was 
 at worship, thick, dark clouds gathered overhead, and forth flashed 
 the forked lightning, the thunder roared, and the rain fell in torrents. 
 One of our storms had burst overhead, but it did not hinder the prep- 
 aration for baptism. A beautiful secluded spot on the beach, where 
 a murmuring brook emptied itself into the sea, was the place selected. 
 From our feet far away to the horizon stretched the imperial Pacific. 
 The sea lay like a hushed child on a mother's breast, sobbing out its 
 moans after a stormy passion, trying how quiet he could be. The 
 clouds rolled back, and kept within their heavy folds for a while the 
 rain that had been falling. The clear blue sky looked lovingly down 
 from above between the cloudy pillars; a perfect calm pervaded earth 
 and air. We were in a small bight, a semicircle of rocks covered 
 from base to top with a wild, luxuriant growth of evergreen, one tree 
 rising above another, till the topmost seemed to kiss the sky, and these 
 all reflected from the crystal brook. The rocks and trees, and their 
 reflected heights and depths, presented a huge wall that shut the world 
 out. In this secluded spot, seldom visited by man, sat a number of 
 persons on trunks of trees, to witness the impressive rite. Father and 
 son emerged from a tent; they both went down into the water. Mr. 
 
 H said he was about to baptize his son, and now brother, beneath 
 
 the yielding wave, and raise him up again, fit emblem of our buried 
 and risen Lord. A few more appropriate remarks were listened to 
 with profound attention, and then the father immersed the son into the 
 name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The ceremony over, 
 the company dispersed, and were hardly under shelter, when the clouds 
 let down their contents in a perfect deluge. 
 
 I dined with my friend Mr. H and family. He had joined us 
 
 from the Church of England. I supplied both father and son with 
 Mr. Campbell's works, and they read them with the Bible in their 
 hands. The Bible was read much more among those who could read 
 now than formerly. I went home and wrote a very long letter to my 
 young friend, to hold fast to the faith he had profes.sed, and in the 
 batde of life to be faithful to his Lord. I called to see this family a 
 few weeks later, Mr. H was a highly educated gentleman, a
 
 400 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 devoted Christian and a great reader, as was his young son. Mrs. 
 
 H had been sick, and had heard more Bible reading and other 
 
 profitable reading than ever she had heard before, and when I went 
 
 tliere we always had up some for a friendly discussion. Mr. H 
 
 had been elected to the office of elder in our little church, and he 
 exhorted most eloquently, but he could never persuade his wife to go 
 to meeting; however, she took sick and had time to think. This day 
 I was glad to see her up, and when I asked how she was, she rejoiced 
 my heart when she said: 
 
 ''My dear, through grace I have found my Savior." 
 
 I clasped her hand; I could do no more. I felt that now I had 
 found a sister, for she said that as soon as she was well she purposed 
 making a public confession of her faith in Christ, and to be baptized. 
 The prayers that had been put up for her conversion, had been heard 
 and answered, for she was converted from the extreme of worldliness 
 to be a humble-minded Christian. What happiness to her husband to 
 go with him, hand in hand, and lead their children to heaven. A 
 few days more and I was by the side of my friend, my new-found sis- 
 ter; but she had gone to sleep, that dreamless sleep that knows no 
 waking, till the archangel's trump shall rouse the dead at the last day. 
 A solemn sadness steals over me now as I take a retrospective view of 
 the mournful scene. The wail of the motherless children! Oh, how 
 I love and respect children for the great love the Savior had for them. 
 He said of them, "of such is the kingdom of God." 
 
 Mrs. H had many virtues, and her loss to the family was great. 
 
 I wrote an obituary, but did not send it to the paper, hoping that some 
 pen of a ready writer would do her greater justice, but as no one 
 wrote, I sent mine for publication a few weeks afterward, signed, "A 
 Stranger." 
 
 Everywhere I went I heard discussions about the national school, 
 
 whether should they have the Bible in the school or not. Mr. G 
 
 violently opposed the Bible in schools. 
 
 I thought at this time to write, A Word for the Bible ; and I wrote a 
 long article advocating the proper use of the Bible in schools, which 
 drew forth much discussion and criticism. I also wrote an article, A 
 Word for Wo7nan, which created quite a furor among the men of my 
 neighborhood; they said: 
 
 "Whoever the stranger was, he wanted to have the women edu- 
 cated; then they would have no one to milk the cows or churn the 
 butter, when the women were all ladies."
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 40I 
 
 "No," said they, "we will not make our wives anything but what 
 they are fit for." 
 
 And said one, "If I knew when that stranger would be here, I 
 would have him drummed out of the district." 
 
 I asked who the stranger was, very innocently. One said he was a 
 lawyer from Sydney; another said he was a minister from Shoalhaven. 
 Only one in the district guessed who the stranger was, and he was a 
 correspondent of the paper. 
 
 Our little church now met at the house of the old Baptist couple 
 who were so stern in manner. I had closed school on Hurricane Hill 
 finally, and was winding up my affairs, and packing my goods and 
 chattels. I asked the church for a letter of commendation, and they 
 wrote a most kind and affectionate one, introducing me to the churches 
 I purposed visiting to introduce the new translation. I was going 
 direct to Melbourne on my way home, to do for the Bible Union what 
 
 I could, as they so earnestly requested me. Mrs. E said, when 
 
 my letter was read to me, before handing it to me : 
 
 "I object to that letter; for you have not said a single word about 
 the church she is leaving. This is a particular Baptist Church and 
 she is a particular Baptist, and she must not hand her letter to any but 
 a particular Baptist Church." 
 
 I asked the presiding elder if he would allow me to speak to him ? 
 
 He bowed, 
 
 **I am a Christian, and I joined the Christian Church at Kiama, 
 which this church was then called, and I did not know that it had 
 changed its name as it had done its place of meeting. I am not a 
 Baptist, nor do I know the meaning of particular Baptist." 
 
 Mrs. E turned to me and said, with great warmth : 
 
 "Are you ashamed of the name Baptist?" 
 
 I said I was not a Baptist. She asked me how I could say so. I 
 told her I had never baptized any person. 
 
 "Well," she said, "you shall not get that letter from this church. 
 Why, it would introduce you to every kind of church, Methodist, 
 Episcopal, Presbyterian," and, I put in, "Roman Catholic." 
 
 "Yes," said the irate old lady, "and to the Campbellitc Church, 
 which is worse than they all." 
 
 Said the presiding elder, ironically: "As you consider yourself an 
 elder, what kind of a letter would you write?" 
 
 She told them; and I said such a letter I would not accept. I said 
 I was going to travel in the interests of the American Bible Union, 
 26
 
 402 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and I must be left at liberty to present my church letter to any church 
 to which I wished to introduce the new translation ; and if the Chris- 
 tian Church, of which I was a member, gave me a letter, well; if not, 
 I should go without one. I would not accept of a letter from a par- 
 ticular Baptist Church as a member of that church. I had a prOper 
 letter given to me after some delay. 
 
 I had a very handsome testimonial presented to me by the trustees 
 
 of the school. From. Mr. also I had a very flattering one. Mr. 
 
 Barnier and Rev. Mr. Ashwin both gave testimonials of the very 
 highest order. I parted with all on the best of terms. 
 
 Sir Wm. Denison was appointed to be Governor of India. I wrote 
 a farewell letter to him, and in answer he wrote the following : 
 
 Government House, Sydney, January, 1861. 
 Dear Madam : — I am truly grateful to you for your good wishes and prayers 
 for myself and family. These are gifts which every one can bestow, which are 
 of the highest value in the sight of God, and I trust, are fully appreciated by 
 me. * * * 
 
 With every good wish, believe me yours very truly, 
 
 William Denison, 
 
 I gave in a newspaper article the following parting advice to the 
 people of Gerringong and surrounding neighborhoods: 
 
 To the Editor of the Kiama Examiner : 
 
 Sir: — Some time ago I wrote A Word for the Bible, as a book for all time, all 
 places, all people, all nations and all circumstances. Now, some men who hold 
 the responsible situation of training the immortal mind, say, "It is not right to 
 cram the Bible down children's throats." Let such men, however, read and well 
 digest what that good man Dr. Chever wrote about the Bible and children, and 
 see if they are not to feed the children with the sincere milk of the word, that 
 they may grow thereby. And so may the Lord prosper them in their work, 
 prays the children's friend. A Stranger. 
 
 Gerringong, January, 1861. 
 
 My Dove's Nest had been a perfect museum and taxidermist's shop. 
 I had preserved specimens of almost every animal indigenous to 
 lUawarra, a great variety of birds and insects. Also, I had sections 
 of different kinds of wood, shells, seaweed and fossils, that I had split 
 great rocks to get at. I had them all labeled. I had them examined 
 by a first-class naturalist, who pronounced them all "well preserved." 
 Then I had them packed in an air-tight case. Collecting and preserv- 
 ing took eighteen months' time, but I was highly gratified at my com- 
 j)lete success in both departments.
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 403 
 
 I was electrified when Mr. H proposed marriage to me just as I 
 
 was ready to start on my voyage to Melbourne, from there to take ship 
 
 for America. Mr. H 's wife had not been dead six months, and I 
 
 was shocked at his asking me to marry him so soon after her death, and 
 as I had never thought of Mr. H in any other light than a high- 
 toned Christian brother, I felt it was impossible to give up my loner 
 cherished plans, and to take another course so different from anythin'-- 
 I had thought of. I said it was out of the question altogether. When 
 the first commotion of feeling was over, I asked him how he could 
 think of seeking a wife so soon after his wife's death? I did not like 
 it. His answer was: 
 
 "Had you remained in the country, I should have waited long 
 enough to have satisfied you, but to-morrow you are to leave here, 
 and I felt desperate at the thought of losing you forever. I was con> 
 pelled by the great love I have for you to come and tell you of it pre- 
 maturely. The district can not spare you, the church can not spare 
 you, my motherless children can not spare you ; they need you; they 
 love you as an elder sister, and have often wished that you lived with 
 us. Had you left the district you were lost to us forever. As I told 
 you, the great love I have for you compelled me to come and try to 
 persuade you to remain with us." 
 
 He asked me in the name of all that was good not to leave them. 
 He poured out his passionate appeal in burning eloquence at my feet. 
 I felt my strong resolves melting away, and I said : 
 
 "I must leave you for a time to consider the proposal." 
 
 I felt while he was pleading that I could not say no, and I must 
 have time to think and consider whether under the circumstances it 
 would be right to say yes. 
 
 I left lUawarra and went to Sydney, and remained over two months, 
 where I received letters semi-weekly from my friend. These letters 
 were charged with high and noble sentiments. I felt proud of my 
 correspondent. When I had had time to think, I wrote to him: 
 
 Sydney, February, 1861. 
 
 I H , Esq. 
 
 Dear Friemi : — You have taught me a lesson without a lecture; you have taught 
 me to love and admire your noble character. There have been those who have 
 flattered and fluttered as a buttsrfly round a flower, but I had no syni|}athy with 
 such. In your affection and your expressions of it there is nothing doubtful or 
 undignified. Therefore, in giving me your love I feel that you are worthy of 
 love in return. ♦ » * Again I lift my pen. You know that for some time
 
 404 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I have been preparing to leave this colony. You must know that the cords of 
 love that bind me to, and draw me toward, America are very strong, and they 
 have not been loosened in the least since I have been here. And you must also 
 know that my regrets at leaving Illawarra, where I have suffered so much men- 
 tally and physically, could not be great. With delight I have hailed the time 
 when I should once more be with those I love, and I thought the time was at 
 hand. But an opposing influence is at work; yet you can not dissuade me from 
 going to Melbourne, and I may go to Adelaide and finish up my mission for the 
 American Bible Union. I am in the Lord's hands, let him do what is good. 
 Yours in faith, hope and love, E. Davies. 
 
 Mr. H was greatly opposed to my going to Melbourne, on ac- 
 count of the risk of the voyage, and many other things. He wished 
 me to stay in Sydney, and make arrangements to go back with him 
 when he came for me; but I would not consent to marry him till his 
 wife had been at least one year dead. Meantime, I should do as my 
 friends of the Bible Union desired, and finish my engagement with 
 them, ere I entered upon a new course. 
 
 Again, I had a supply of books and letters urging my return to Amer- 
 ica via Melbourne and Adelaide. I sent off to Sir Wm. Denison a 
 supply of what I had, paid the postage, which was very high, besides 
 paying the freight to Sydney of all the cases of books that were sent to 
 me. The money that I left in America paid for every publication sent 
 to me before it was shipped, and I sold them for less than they cost 
 me at New York. I was greatly out of pocket; but I was glad to be 
 able in this way to introduce Mr. Campbell's works, and others of our 
 brethren, as well as the Nexv Translation. I spared neither pains nor 
 purse. I was about to take a voyage, at my own expense, to forward 
 the good cause. Meantime, a ship very unexpectedly arrived at Syd- 
 ney, on its way to the United States. I put on board this ship my 
 case of specimens of natural history, to the care of the American Bible 
 Union, with instructions to pay all expenses out of my money, and for- 
 ward it to Bethany College as my contribution to the museum. This 
 was all done in due time. The captain of the ship, into whose care I 
 gave my case, said he would take special care of it, and more, he 
 would be happy to have it in his power to take care of me on the voy- 
 age to the United States. Here was the first opportunity that I had to 
 return to America since I had been in New South Wales. It was a 
 very great trial to me to see this stately ship sail away without me. I 
 pondered the ways of God, but they were inscrutable, and past finding 
 out
 
 TEACHING ON HURRICANE HILL, AND OTHER LABORS. 405 
 
 Why did I not go? Perhaps God had allowed me to suffer dire dis- 
 appointment, then temptations and privations, in order to prepare me 
 for a more extended sphere of usefulness, with a man whom my heart 
 delighted to honor. To enjoy the comforts of a beautiful home, amidst 
 nature's grandest and most sublime scenery, in company with one of 
 congenial mind, one who could point to heaven, and lead the way, 
 surely this was compensation for all past suffering. From this stand- 
 point I looked into the future with a calm and happy feeling of restful- 
 ness. The storm-clouds seemed to have been lifted from my horizon. 
 I was hopeful that I had a calm, happy and useful life before me, and 
 I was trustful. I thanked and blessed God for so blessing me. 
 
 Coming events cast no shadows before.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 On March 20, 1861, I went aboard the barque Miami, bound 
 for Adelaide via Melbourne. The Sydney owner of the vessel told me 
 that one lady and a stewardess would be all the passengers on board 
 besides myself; that every comfort was provided for us, and he hoped 
 we would have a pleasant voyage. His arrangements, as he stated 
 them, pleased me, and I stepped on board as the vessel was moving 
 from the quay. We sailed down the harbor with a pleasant breeze. I 
 stayed on deck as long as it was prudent for me to do so. I wished to 
 prepare my cabin that I might lie down as soon as I felt sick ; experience 
 told me this was best. I asked the steward to show me my cabin, and 
 send the stewardess to me. To my great surprise, neither she nor the 
 lady passenger had yet come on board. I asked for my cabin. I was 
 shown to an empty room without bed, bedding, or furniture of any 
 kind. I asked what this meant; but the stev/ard, a black man, could 
 not tell. I was feeling sick as we neared the Heads, and I sent for the 
 captain, as he w^as called; but for a long time he did not come. I 
 asked the steward to prepare my bed for me, I wished to lie down. 
 He said he had no bed, nor clothes to make it. I told him to tell the 
 master to come to me at once, or ask where I should sleep, as I could 
 not lie down where I was. The master came, and told me that I could 
 have his cabin, as he did not expect to use it much this voyage. I told 
 the steward to turn out of the master's room all his charts and nautical 
 instruments, his caps, jackets and boots. I asked the master why the 
 owner had told me every comfort was on board, when the absolute 
 necessaries were wanting. He said he could not tell. I asked why he 
 had sailed without the other lady passenger and the stewardess. He 
 had obeyed orders, he could do no more, he said. As our barque rose 
 to the waves between the Heads, and rolled out between them to the 
 sea, I was so sick that I had to lie down in my clothes. I had no one 
 to help me to undress, and I was too sick to help myself. I turned 
 into a bunk, which was very wide, with a very narrow mattress in it, 
 and no bed-clothes but a long narrow strip of cotton, twisted like a 
 
 (406)
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 407 
 
 rope and soiled. This was dreadful; but I was too sick to demur. I 
 was rolled off and on the mattress, and on the back and front of the 
 bunk; I was bumped without mercy. 1 had nothing to hold to, so I 
 had to bear the thumping. The steward seemed to have forgotten that 
 I was on board. The next eveninf he opened my door, and I told 
 him to give me something to keep me from being knocked about so. 
 He put a bag of ship-bunting behind me. I asked him to give me 
 some gruel. He said he had no meal to make it with. I had been 
 left two days and one night without food or attendance. I was too 
 sick to care much at that time; but as the sickness subsided, I needed 
 food, and could not get what was necessary. I thought the owners 
 laid themselves open to prosecution, sending me out to sea under false 
 pretenses, and taking a high rate of fare for my passage, and not pro- 
 viding for my comfort in any way at all But prosecuting the owners 
 would not give me a comfortable bed to lie on, or gruel to drink, or 
 somebody to wait on me when I was sick. I could hardly get water 
 to drink, certainly no good water. My only and never failing source 
 of comfort was to pray for protection in my strange and disagreeable 
 situation, and for fortitude and strength to bear up. I asked God to 
 take care of me. We had a rough, rolling sea, but the wind was fair. 
 We had doubled Cape Howe, and the*master was in fine spirits at the 
 progress we were making. I had scarcely slept any since I came on 
 board, and water had been my food. I was weary with the rolling and 
 tossing of the ship. I could not get out of my thoughts, that the ship 
 was somehow in danger. About midnight I heard a strange noise. 
 This strange noise continued long and loud, and louder still, till the 
 concentrated blast of the furies of the storm, blowing through a huge 
 tube, seemed bent on sliivering the ship to pieces. Every moment I 
 expected to hear a general crash, but not a human voice did I hear 
 from bows to stern, till I heard the man at the wheel cry out, * 
 
 "I can not see!" 
 
 "Lights out!" shouted a voice. 
 
 Alone, and in the dark, amid the strangest noises I ever heard, I 
 communed with my own heart, and was still. I commended the ship, 
 master and crew to my heavenly Father. The niglit was long and 
 dreary, and full of terror. The storm increased. I knew the shi]) was 
 in danger, but I did not know to what extent she was damnged. About 
 four o'clock in the morning, the master knocked at my door, and asked 
 me how I spent the night. I told him that I had prayed for the safety 
 of the ship, the crew and himself. I said I had been in great suspense,
 
 408 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 but was as calm on the bosom of the stormy sea as a child in its 
 mother's arms. 
 
 ••You will need all your fortitude." 
 
 "My Savior's arms are around me; I have no fear, whatever may 
 betide." f 
 
 "That is well; for our vessel is stripped of her sails, yards, bowsprit 
 and a mast, and is so completely disabled that we can not proceed on 
 our voyage. Our rudder is broken, and we are in a heavy fog. If 
 possible, we must steer for a place of safety. Twofold Bay is thc 
 nearest place, if we could get back to it ; but in this gale it is doubtful 
 if we can make it with two rags of a sail." 
 
 The captain was greatly downcast; he knew the perilous condition 
 of the vessel. 
 
 "A heavy, cross sea is driving her hither, and the winds thither. 
 We are entirely at the mercy of the winds and waves, and the crew 
 were nearly exhausted at the pumps when I left the deck." 
 
 I told him to pray to Him, who could say to the turmoil on the Pa- 
 cific, "Peace be still," and could quiet the tempest as he did on the 
 Sea of Galilee. The poor man said he had been trying to pray to 
 Christ to save us. He left the cabin, and went on deck. When alone, 
 I clasped my hands, and raised my eyes to heaven, and prayed to God 
 to still the tempest, and guide us to a place of safety. The wind some- 
 what abated, but we were driven about all that day and night. 
 We were lost on the waste of waters; we could not find our way. 
 We could not take bearings nor find where the land lay. My own 
 peculiar situation was in a measure overlooked in the general fearful 
 condition in which we were all placed. The fog lifted a little, and 
 two vessels hove in sight, disabled alike in the gale. A third hove in 
 sight, like ourselves, dismantled and driven at the mercy of the wind 
 and waf es. 
 
 "God help us all," I cried; "for He alone can help." 
 
 The gale increased, and we were driven before it, we knew not 
 where. Our barque was like a bird without wings trying to fly. She 
 shivered to the blast, and could not mount the waves. The captain 
 had lost all hope of saving her. When the wind abated a little, all 
 hands went to work to make a jurymast out of the splinters of the 
 spars that were strewn about, by tying them together as best they 
 could. They also tried to stitch a few rags of canvas together to make 
 a sail. The wind began to howl again in that awful, ominous manner. 
 Oh, how we rolled and pitched. Another night of horror ! Nothing
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 409 
 
 but God's protecting arm kept us afloat. Our poor barque was lashed 
 by the sea with such force that I thought at every blow she must go to 
 the bottom. The sailors were nearly washed overboard, as wave after 
 wave rolled over us from stem to stern. The jerks and jumps of our 
 little ship were perfectly frightful. My poor head was sadly bruised. 
 The captain expected me to be killed by being thrown out of my bunk. 
 No rest night or day for any on board. The leak in the vessel had in- 
 creased. She was too heavily laden, and she had to be lightened; but 
 even then she could not obey the little bit of rudder that we had. It is 
 a great attainment to be entirely submissive to the will of God. Now, 
 whether it was from want of food, want of sleep, or from being worn 
 out and exhausted by the ceaseless tossing and tumbling, or all com- 
 bined, I became possessed of perfect quietness of mind. I had lost all 
 hope of safety, but I felt perfectly resigned to God's will. I was in his 
 hands, and I rested there without hope or fear for life. We drifted to 
 land at last, and entered Jervis' Bay on the coast of lUawarra, not 
 twenty miles from friends. If I could have let them know, they 
 would have taken me from the ship. I had no means of communica- 
 tion, and I was thought to be hundreds of miles away; and so I would 
 have been, but after being near to Melbourne we had drifted back to 
 within a short distance of where we started. 
 
 The sailors caught a large fish and cooked it. I could not eat 
 much, but it was fresh and I enjoyed what I ate. There was nothing 
 on board but salt meat and hard biscuit, which my poor sick stomach 
 utterly refused to receive. The captain went ashore in quest of some 
 fresh food, but was unsuccessful. The region round about was unin- 
 habited. He saw an old hut with some furniture in it, which had once 
 been occupied. He wrote on a piece of paper, and fastened it to the 
 table, an account of our disabled state, and our seeking refuge in the 
 bay. We patched up a little, it was but little, for we had no material. 
 Something went wrong, we were driving shoreward toward the break- 
 ers, and away went our anchor again. We had weighed anchor and 
 were preparing to leave our shelter, when we were driven back, and 
 had to cast anchor again; but she broke her cable and was very nearly 
 stranded. We got out of tlie bay at last. As soon as we rolled out 
 to sea, I had to roll into the bunk with my clothes on ; I had not been 
 undressed since I left Sydney. I was very uncomfortable, but that 
 was a small matter. At this time we had been fifteen days out, and 
 no farther from Sydney than we were on the third day. I was fiint 
 for want of food, weary and exhausted by being knocked about so
 
 4IO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 hard and so long, and I was nearly beside myself for want of sleep. 
 Two nights and three days I did not close my eyes one moment to 
 sleep, holding on to keep my bones from being broken. We had a 
 fair wind at last, which carried us past some dangerous islands and 
 sunken rocks at the entrance of Bass Strait. We had a dead calm for 
 a time, and the sailors caught some fish and cooked them. I was 
 nearly famished, and I was glad to have some fish. Seventeen days 
 out and only have eaten fish twice • in the time, nothing more. In 
 looking over the ship's log, I was surprised to see in what concise 
 language they describe a heavy gale, or a ship's danger — as, "Shipped 
 tremendous seas all over us; ship labored very hard; southerly burster 
 carried away our sails, yard, mast and bowsprit; ship sprang a leak 
 in the after part; sailed to leeward; was driven out of her way." 
 The fact was, the old tub of a vessel was utterly unseaworthy. When 
 a sea would wash over her and fill her decks with water, she seemed 
 at times to stand perfectly still, and the pause was appalling ; then we 
 thought she was settling down to rise no more. We had no sooner 
 entered Port Philip, thinking our dangers at an end, when bump, 
 bump, went our tub, ashore on a sand-bank. We were greatly shaken, 
 but we were wedged tight. We were still too heavily laden, through 
 the covetousness of the owners. 
 
 I landed at Melbourne after being twenty days at sea, without 
 having been undressed in all that time; had eaten food twice; had 
 scarcely slept, and was bruised all over. We ought to have been 
 at the end of our voyage eight days before, but we were only half 
 way. An unseen hand at the broken helm steered us into port at 
 last; to Him alone do I render thanks for my preservation. Lan- 
 guage fails to convey my thoughts when I found myself out on the 
 bosom of the mighty ocean alone, with what might have been a dozen 
 lawless men. The retrospect makes me shudder; but I was saved. I 
 again and again thanked God for my double preservation. On land- 
 ing, I had to be supported to the train that was to take me to town ; I 
 could not walk through exhaustion. Nourishing food, sea-bathing and 
 rest for a day or two, and I was well again. 
 
 I went to work vigorously. I was successful in a measure among 
 the Baptists with the new translation. Sir Henry Barklay, v/ith whom 
 I corresponded, wished to buy the work when finished, but would not 
 subscribe. There was a small church of Disciples at one of the sub- 
 urbs, where I introduced Mr. Campbell's works, and they ordered 
 sixty copies of the Christian Syslem. For these I paid at New York
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 4II 
 
 $1.50, and paid freight; and when they landed in Australia I received 
 $1.00 per copy for them, thereby losing half a dollar on each copy, 
 besides the freight. I visited the ministers and members of churches, 
 and advertised in the papers, and did all I could in Melbourne. I 
 had a few subscribers and received a few donations. I had orders for 
 books of various kinds. I thought the works thus introduced would 
 pave the way for reformation in the churches, as well as for organizing 
 churches on Bible principles. I was willing to spend and be spent in 
 this cause. My work being done in Melbourne, I was ready to resume 
 my voyage; but I had not brought any extra money with me only what 
 would take me to Adelaide and back to Sydney. My full passage 
 money to Adelaide had been paid; but I could not venture on the 
 Miami again. I had suffered too severely already, and it was not con- 
 venient for me to pay my passage twice. Mr. Lord suggested that the 
 owners of the Miafni be prosecuted for damages; but this would require 
 both time and money, both of which were limited. Mr. Lord accom- 
 panied me to the office of the agent of the Miami to see what could be 
 done. I asked the agent when the Miarni was to sail ? 
 
 "In ten days," said he. 
 
 I couW not wait so long, my time was up. I had intended to be at 
 Melbourne after finishing my business at Adelaide. I said I must get 
 to the end of my voyage soon, and I was short of money, seeing I 
 brought none extra. A well-dressed man who stood by said, with a 
 scowl on his brow : 
 
 "The best thing you can do is to go on board the Miami a.nd stay 
 there till she sails, and go with her to Adelaide; that will cost you 
 nothing more, and the time is nothing." 
 
 I asked the agent who the man was who had used such liberty of 
 
 speech, and who had volunteered such advice? Mr. , one of tlie 
 
 owners of the Miami, was introduced to me. I turned to the owner, 
 and said: 
 
 "Sir, I can not take your advice. I thank you all the same for 
 
 giving it." 
 
 "I should like to know the reason why you can not go on board; 
 
 you can not do better." 
 
 I told him I could do better, if he would arrange for my passage on 
 board of a steamer, or give mc back half of the money that I paid to 
 one of the owners in Sydney. 
 
 "That will I not do. You shall go on l)oard the Miami, or not, as 
 you choose ; 1 shall make no other arrangements for you, and you
 
 412 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 have no redress. You took your passage in the Miami, and in her you 
 can go," said the man, in a hoarse voice. 
 
 I said, "I did not come to lodge a complaint against any one for the 
 treatment I had received at their hands. First, they took a large sum 
 of money for my through passage to Adelaide, because no other ship 
 was going ; then they deliberately falsified by telling me that another 
 lady passenger and a stewardess were on board, and that every com- 
 fort was provided for us. I had offered, before going on board, to 
 procure anything extra that was needed; but I was told that everything 
 that could possibly be wanted was on board. I had implicit faith in 
 their word. I trusted to their honor; never suspected that they could 
 treat a human being so barbarously. I did not, till I was out at sea, 
 discover that I was the only lady on board with a dozen strange men, 
 without a bed to lie on, and no comforts, not even necessary food, and 
 my sick stomach could not receive the salt junk and hard biscuit. The 
 vessel was utterly unseaworthy, and badly fitted out for a voyage, and 
 the captain and crew might have been outlaws for anything the owners 
 cared. I have now given you my reasons why I can not take your 
 advice. Do you still advise me to go on board your ship, and put out 
 to see again under these circumstances?" 
 
 "I certainly do, and if you don't, you have no redress." 
 
 Tears sprang to my eyes at the barbarity of the man's speech. 
 
 "Man, have you no heart? have you a sister, or a daughter?" 
 
 He said he had both. Then I said : 
 
 "Would you be willing to send one of them out to sea with a num- 
 ber of strange men, without food to eat, or a bed to lie on, to dare the 
 dangers of the deep?" 
 
 "Yes, I would, most certainly," said the inhuman man. 
 
 "Seeing I have not a gentleman to deal with, I have nothing to ex- 
 pect; but rather than go on board of that ship again, I would walk to 
 Adelaide, and beg bread by the way, if it were possible to do so," I said. 
 
 Let me say that the captain and officers were perfectly civil when 
 in my presence, which was but seldom, as the vessel needed their 
 whole attention. The agent seemed to be a gentleman, and asked sev- 
 eral questions; but I had nothing to say against the poor over-worked 
 men on board. The agent said : 
 
 "I am truly ashamed of the owners of the Aliami. I will, at my own 
 risk, and on my own responsibility, return to you the half of your pas- 
 sage money; that was all you asked for." 
 
 Dame fortune did not hold me in favor somehow. Opposition
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 413 
 
 Steamers had been running between Melbourne and Adelaide lor some 
 time at reduced fares. This I thought fortunate, as I should have to 
 pay but little more than my returned money; but when I took passage 
 on board of the Wo?iga Wonga, she had run her last trip at reduced 
 fares, and I was the first to pay full fare. We made the voyage in 
 fifty-eight hours, and had a pleasant trip. The Miami, after being re- 
 paired, sailed, and was totally wrecked betAveen Melbourne and Ade- 
 laide. I was thankful that I was not in her. 
 
 Once more I landed at Port Adelaide. What wonderful improve- 
 ments had been made since I left its shores. I had letters of in- 
 troduction to some of the leading men of the colony ; but I was anx- 
 ious to find out whether any of my old friends were alive. 1 found 
 
 Mr. B , my old friend, who had been so kind to me in the dark 
 
 hours of the past, who, with his younger daughter, gave me a cordial 
 welcome, his wife being dead. Here I rested a few days, and inter- 
 ested Mr. B in my mission, and he promised me all the help he 
 
 could give. I called on the Hon. G. F. Angas, who had once been 
 interested in the translation of the Spanish Scriptures. I was author- 
 ized to call on this gentleman, as his name was known to the American 
 Bible Union. He received me very kindly, and at once gave ;!^5o, 
 or $250, and promised to give that yearly, on condition that the officers 
 of the Bible Union would write to him. This I promised him they 
 should do. After many questions asked, and satisfactory answers 
 given, he asked me what I received for my services, and who paid my 
 traveling expenses. I told him I received no renumeration; I will- 
 ingly gave my services, and paid my own traveling expenses. He in- 
 sisted on paying my expenses from Sydney to Adelaide. I politely 
 refused; but he said he would do no more for my mission, if I refused 
 his gift. He said he had a better right to pay my expenses than I had, 
 for he had more money, and I was giving what was more valuable. 1 
 accepted, and was greatly impressed with his liberality. Before I left 
 the old gentleman, he said he would be pleased to have me partake of 
 his birthday breakfast next morning, the first of May, 1861 ; he 
 would then be seventy-two years old. I promised to be in attendance, 
 and I was punctual to the time, which pleased him. On another occa- 
 sion, I was invited to dine with the old gentleman, and going into din- 
 ner, I happened to put my hand on his arm just to suit him, for he 
 was very punctilious. He was a gentleman of the old school, and 
 very courtly in his manners. I was glad to have pleased the old gen-
 
 414 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tleman, for I held him in great respect. He proved himself a true 
 friend to me. 
 
 I wrote to Sir Richard McDonnell, Governor of South Australia, 
 asking for his patronage for the New Translation. I had an audience 
 of him, which ended in his subscribing, and becoming a member of 
 the Union. He, as all others in power, asked many questions; but 
 he was pleasant in conversation, and finished by asking me to go to 
 Bishop's Court, and tell the bishop that he sent me to him with the 
 Neiu Translation. 
 
 "Tell him I have subscribed." 
 
 I called on Bishop Short, and was received with far more ceremony 
 than at Government House. The bishop examined the work, and said 
 he would like to purchase the work when finished, but declined to help 
 to finish it. 
 
 I had heard that the bishop of the Roman Church was a great scholar, 
 and as I wished to have criticisms, as well as subscriptions, I purposed 
 calling on him, and would not be dissuaded, though some tried to keep 
 me back, as it seemed very bold to beard the hon in his den. They 
 knew he would not patronize the work. I took nothing for granted. 
 I took a young lady friend with me, rang the bell at Bishop's Court, 
 and was ushered into the august presence ot a large man, enveloped 
 from neck to heels in a black gown, with gold cable chain of great 
 length and weight around his neck, with a large gold cross fastened 
 over his heart, and a three-cornered cap on his head. His triple- 
 crowned hat sat on a little table by his side, and he was on a raised 
 seat, from which he did not rise when ladies entered his presence. He 
 was the most pompous man I had seen in Australia. He pointed to 
 seats, which we took. I opened my business at once by saying, I 
 should like, if he did not object, to have his opinion of a New Trans- 
 lation of the Scriptures, published in America. 
 
 "First, do you belong to the Church, the Holy Catholic Church?" 
 he said. 
 
 "No, sir; but I belong to the Christian Church." 
 
 He noticed that we neither bowed nor crossed ourselves before the 
 pictures of the Madonna and others, which hung around the room. 
 He said there is but one true Church. I bowed, and said mentally, 
 
 "Yes; but that is Christ's." 
 
 "Why do you come to me with a Protestant Bible for an opinion," 
 again he asked. 
 
 I told him I had heard of his great erudition, and as a scholar
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 415 
 
 merely, I wished to have his valuable criticisms. Scholars everywhere 
 are invited to criticise the work. It is a work for the people. 
 
 "The people, did you say? Why, the people are not fit to read the 
 Bible. We, the priests, interpret the meaning for them." 
 
 "But," I said, "we can not always have a priest at our elbow to in- 
 terpret for us, so we wish to read for ourselves the word of God." 
 
 "Well, as I have said, the people can not, and if they could, they 
 would not be allowed to read the Bible." 
 
 With just a shade of feeling, I asked, "Who does hinder them?" 
 
 "The Church hinders them." 
 
 "Do they all obey? I think not, for I have seen Roman Catholics 
 read the Bible." 
 
 "But," said this pompous bishop, "they have not the right of pri- 
 vate judgment, so their reading is of no avail." 
 
 "Well," I said, "will you be so kind as to look over' this work, and 
 give your opinion simply as a scholar." 
 
 "I dare not do it,'' said this august man. 
 
 "Why?" I asked in surprise. "You say you are one of the guar- 
 dians of the Church, one of the interpreters of the Bible to the people, 
 and why dare you not give your opinion on what you read? Who 
 hinders you?" 
 
 "The Holy See." 
 
 Ironically I asked, "What is that?" 
 
 "His Holiness, the Pope," was answered; "and without his per- 
 mission, I dare not read any work, or have an opinion of my own on 
 it, were I allowed to read it." 
 
 At this I arose from my seat, and said : "Sir, you are a man of great 
 learning, of profound erudition, with a library here of immense size and 
 great value, and do you mean to say that you have never read any of 
 these books without the Pope's permission? Or having read them, 
 you could not, dare not, think your own thoughts about them?" 
 
 The bishop also rose from his exalted seat, came down to my level 
 on the floor, opened one of the large book-cases, took out a book to 
 show me, and said: 
 
 "I have read these with permission and many more, but as I have 
 told you, I have not the right of private judgment." 
 
 "It is enough," I said, and smiled; ''you have (old me, and you are 
 high authority, that the Roman Catholics are not allowed to read the Bible, 
 Gois word to men ; nor have they the right of private judgment. I have 
 been told this, but I beliex'e it now."
 
 4l6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I thanked his Lordship for his courtesy, and bowed my adieu, say- 
 ing, I would detain him no longer. He opened the door for us and 
 bowed us out. 
 
 At Hindmarsh, a few English brethren met in a small room to at- 
 tend to the ordinances of the Lord in his own appointed way. They 
 were earnest-hearted and zealous in good works. I introduced the 
 new translation to them; they were pleased with it, and patronized 
 
 liberally. They were a noble little band. Here I met Brother M , 
 
 a man of wealth and influence, who was then a member of Parliament, 
 but he had the higher title of Christian gentleman. He invited me to 
 visit his family at Enfield, which I did. It was composed of Alexan- 
 der and Silvanus, two fine lads who were going to college ; Janie and 
 Bertie, two very sweet girls ; then two younger boys, James and Tom, 
 and Lillie came while I was there, and I called her my wee pet 
 lamb, because I nursed her a great deal, and Brother M 's broth- 
 er's orphans were all brought up together and formed one family. It 
 
 was a large but lovely and loving family. Mr. M was a liberal 
 
 man, but he did not let his left hand know what his right hand did. 
 His liberality was felt and appreciated by many. He has been a good 
 steward. He subscribed for a directorship, and entered into my plans 
 heartily to organize an auxiliary society to the American Bible Union. 
 
 I wrote a long letter to Mr. Buckbee, giving an account of my suc- 
 cess. I was very successful in Adelaide. I also wrote a long letter 
 
 to Mr. Campbell. Mr. M wished to be introduced to the great 
 
 man, and I had great pleasure in introducing this noble-hearted Chris- 
 tian gentleman to my friend. But I shall transcribe Mr. M 's let- 
 ter to Mr. Campbell, which I enclosed in mine, and he published it. 
 
 Adelaide, South Australia, May 20, 1861. 
 Elder A. Campbell: 
 
 Dear Brother: — We have been much favored by a visit from Sister E. Davies, 
 whose long residence with you has enabled her as it were to introduce us to 
 your family circle. She is on a mission for the Bible Union, and has been the 
 means of strengthening the hitherto very slight cords which have bound us to 
 the great undertaking of the age. My object in writing is to tell you that Sister 
 Davies has opened a way for me to become possessed of your Harbinger as it 
 issues from the press. Some kind friend in America (I suspect yourself) some 
 years since sent me an occasional number of the Harbinger. From the spelling 
 of my name and direction, I was not sure it was intended for me, and not know- 
 ing the donor, I could not write to thank him; and, having no means of remit- 
 ting money, I could not pay. I have paid over to Sister Davies the sum of forty 
 shillings to pay for two years in advance, and the balance to discharge past lia-
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 417 
 
 bilities, if it is you to whom I am indebted ; but if it is to some unknown friend, 
 then the trifling difference may be put to your church fund, or some similar 
 fund useful to the kingdom. * « * You will, dear brother, excuse the busi- 
 ness formality of this letter. Sister Davies can better describe the state of the 
 Australian churches. I am purposely avoiding any subject which would tax 
 your time by calling for a lengthy reply. Your remaining strength and your 
 time should be economized by laboring for communities rather than individuals. 
 I remain, dear brother, yours in the hope, T. M. 
 
 A lady playfully asked me who was my very faithful correspondent 
 in New South Wales, who wrote so often and so beautifully, and 
 whose letters gave me so much pleasure ? I told her, and gave her 
 some of the letters to read. She was perfectly charmed with them. 
 
 "Your prospect for future happiness is good," she remarked. 
 
 I told her I thought so. 
 
 I had introduced my work to Mr. Bakewell, Crown Solicitor, and 
 was well received by him. I was invited to his beautiful home at 
 Shirley. I was looking at the bright, sweet face of Miss Bakewell. 
 She reminded me very much of Miss Virginia Campbell. I thought 
 it strange that so striking a likeness should exist between these two. 
 I told Mr. Bakewell of the striking likeness I saw. It occurred to me 
 that Mrs. Campbell's name was Bakewell, and she was born in En- 
 gland. I asked Mr. Bakewell if he had any relations in America? 
 He said he had had an uncle who went to America, and here a little 
 family history was gone into. It turned out that Mrs. Campbell and 
 Mr. Bakewell were cousins, without either of them knowing aught of 
 the other. Here again I had an opportunity of introducing Austra- 
 lians to Americans, and throwing cords of love and relationship across 
 the mighty ocean. These were the beginnings of considerable results. 
 My old friends had been scattered like roses in June. I had found 
 but few of them. I had gotten nearly through with my work in South 
 Australia; I had been very successful in every way, and was begin- 
 ning to prepare for my return to Sydney. I had spent a day in the 
 cemetery hunting for a grave before I left the colony. I had not told 
 
 any one that I had a desire to see the grave of Mr. I) . (ircat as 
 
 was my desire to see it, I could not find it. I was compelled to ask 
 the sexton; but he did not know where it was. The greater the diffi- 
 culty to find it, the greater was my determmation to overcome the 
 difficulty. I was gratified, but, merciful (iod, at what a cost! 1 told 
 
 Mr. B that I had been looking for the grave of Mr. D for a 
 
 long time, and could not find it. 
 27
 
 41 8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "No, that was not likely for you to find the grave of a living man. 
 Davies is alive, and, if I mistake not, he is in the city," said Mr. B . 
 
 A chill of horror ran through my veins. I sat speechless in blank 
 astonishment. I was cold and stupid, and motionless as a stone, 
 without sense or feeling for a while, then my limbs relaxed, and I fell 
 a crushed and blighted thing. I could not, would not, believe what 
 I had heard, but I felt as if it were true. I said he must be dead, 
 otherwise, why did God permit me to come to this place? Had I 
 known it, I should never have come; but I do not know. It can not 
 be true. I had for some years been free from that haunting terror of 
 him who had blighted my young life, believing he was dead. I was 
 again filled with this torturing feeling. What could I do? Where 
 could I go to get quit of the nameless dread that took hold of me? I 
 could see no way of escape but in the grave. The suspense that I 
 was in for some days was terrible. I could neither eat nor sleep. A 
 sad change had come over me, but this state of suspense must end. 
 I must know the worst. I must know whether the assertion were true, 
 for as yet I could not believe it. I told no one how my soul was tor- 
 tured, but mental agony was legibly written on every line of my face. 
 No thought of happiness illumined my soul ; all was dark and drear 
 within. The dread suspense was undermining my mental faculties. 
 
 I asked Mr. B to find out the exact truth and let me know. He 
 
 suggested the feasibleness of my leaving the colony without the knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 "No," I said; "my mind is full of doubt and fear, and I must 
 know my fate. What is all the world to me if I am still his wife, or 
 he alive?" 
 
 Mr. B ascertained that for a truth Mr. D was alive and in 
 
 the city. I shuddered as I felt that my misery was complete. A cry 
 of horror escaped my agonized heart: 
 
 "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Let me die; I 
 can not live. Why was I not lost at sea ? Why was I preserved alive, 
 to be plunged into deeper, darker woe than ever before. Woe, woe, 
 and agony unutterable. What shall I do? Where shall I go, to hide 
 from God and man. Woe is me ; I am undone. I am beside myself; 
 great terror has gotten hold of me." 
 
 I wrote to Mr. H at once; told him to think no more of me, 
 
 to write no more to me, to drop me out of his life, and forget me. I 
 had been thrust from the extreme of happiness to the extreme of mis- 
 ery. I had been suddenly and inextricably plunged by a horrid spec-
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 419 
 
 ter, that had risen up before me, into misery unbearable. Hope and 
 happiness were shut out of my* life forever. He is alive whom I be- 
 lieved dead, who once claimed me, as his wife, I long have thought 
 his cruel deeds were hidden in the deep, dark grave. He yet lives. 
 O God, what next? I know not. What makes his name so fearful? 
 Oh, this weight of woe and agony; it presses me sore. 
 
 "But why tell you all this? You can not help me, and I do not 
 wish to hear from you; you might say you pity me. I want no pity. 
 Farewell; forever farewell." 
 
 The enemy who had persecuted me, who had smitten my life to the 
 ground, was not dead. Therefore was my spirit overwhelmed within 
 me. My heart was desolate. My spirit utterly failed me. I could 
 not pray; I could not see through the clouds that dimmed my horizon. 
 They grew darker and gloomier, till the storm burst over my devoted 
 head, and left marks of desolation all along the path I was traveling. 
 Like the poor tempest-tossed little barque Miami, driven about on the 
 wide ocean at the mercy of the winds and waves, which were furious 
 and merciless, until she could no longer withstand their combined fury, 
 and she sank a total wreck to rise no more. 
 
 "O God," I cried, "save me from mental shipwreck. I am now 
 in the breakers. Save, Lord, or I perish." 
 
 I was in this mental tempest for several days; if any one spoke to 
 me I could only wrmg my hands; my misery had no voice. I sat 
 crouching by the parlor fire, in the hospitable mansion of Brother 
 
 M , trying to appropriate to myself some of the exhortation I had 
 
 heard at church that day, but nothing reached my case. I was alone 
 
 in my misery. Mr. M and Dr. K came in and sat beside 
 
 me. Blank despair sat brooding at the heart of the crouching figure. 
 They must have read it in my face. The doctor put his finger on my 
 pulse, saying: 
 
 "You look ill; I shall give you some medicine." 
 
 I looked straight at him and said: "I am not ill," ^'^nd I arose from 
 my seat and walked to the other end of the room, repeating to myself, 
 "A malady prays at my heart that medicine can not reach." 
 
 As I left my scat, I heard the doctor say: 
 
 "I am sorry to see her suffer so; if we could only get her to speak. " 
 
 Another time I sat with my bowed head on my crossed arms, leaning 
 
 on a table. I had tried to write, but failed in the attempt. Mr. M 
 
 came in, and sat down beside me. I raised my head, and met his 
 kind, sympathizing eyes. He said, and I shall never forget it,
 
 420 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 "I sympathiiv- wilh you in your great trouble, and so does Mrs. 
 
 M , and I need hardly tell you that we pray for you." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. M , you do not know my trouble." 
 
 "I do," he said, "better than you think, and I do most sincerely 
 sympathize with you." 
 
 I could say no more and he left me. In a moment all my strength 
 seemed to leave me, and I cried, "God help ine, God help me," and 
 I buried my face in my hands, and leaned heavily on the table. Even 
 as I cried to God to help me, a feeling of rebellion took possession of 
 my soul, and I mentally questioned the justice and mercy of God in 
 thus robbing my life of all its brightness, in bringing this fearful woe 
 upon me. What had I done to deserve this? was my rebellious ques- 
 tion, wrung from a tortured heart. I could not pray for submission to 
 the will of God. Beautiful and holy visions had passed away, and 
 nothing was left but a dark shadow lying on the waste of life. A friend 
 
 and brother suggested that I should divorce Mr. D . I said: 
 
 "Anything to be free; but I can not do it. I can bring nothing 
 against him. I am a perfect stranger here, though this was once my 
 home. I know no one who knows him, and I am perfectly helpless. 
 I have everything to fear, and nothing to hope, by attempting to di- 
 vorce him." 
 
 "You have friends who know when this man troubled your life be- 
 fore, and they stood by you ; you have some of them and others now 
 that will stand by you in any event, and will clear the way for you as 
 much as they can." 
 
 Suddenly a strange new feeling came over me, as though the agency 
 of some hidden power was at work. I felt myself grow strong. 
 Whence this strange new power? Was it the sudden uprising of my 
 soul above the tossings of the tempest, or the crushing out of every 
 tender chord of feeling? It was neither. I was simply an instrument 
 in God's hand, to work out his purpose. I vowed a vow to the Lord, 
 that if he would take from my life this unbearable load I would try to 
 serve him more faithfully; I did not ask for submission to bear it — I 
 wished to be free. I felt, as long as this man had a tie to bind me to 
 him, I was nowhere safe from his cruelty. I thought, if he heard of 
 my being in the colony, he would follow me to the death. My mind 
 consented to do what eighteen years before might have been easy to 
 accomplish; but now it seemed an impossibility. Again I vowed to 
 the Lord, that if he would remove the curse of my life (I did not dic- 
 'tate the manner or means), I would serve him in any way, in any place
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 42 I 
 
 he would choose for me. I would go to Karatschatka, or any place 
 between the poles; I would serve him with my whole being; I would 
 work where no one else would work. Anything but the disgrace and 
 terror of being this man's wife, I could bear. O God, sever the gall- 
 ing chain that binds me to worse than a living death. 
 
 To my old friend, Judge Cooper, now Sir Cliarles Cooper, I would 
 have introduced the New Translation; but my mind was so bewildered, 
 I could attend to no more business. I called to see him, and he re- 
 ceived me very cordially. He told me he had just received letters 
 from Dijon, France, from Captain Sturt, who with his family were 
 well, and he said : 
 
 "I shall write to your friends that you have come back after having 
 traveled in America. They will be so glad to hear from you. Cap- 
 tain Sturt is a great friend of yours. Is Mr. D alive, or is he dead?" 
 
 I gave the judge an account of how I had to flee the country; of 
 
 hearing of Mr. D 's death, and of my return on a mission, and 
 
 hearing of his being alive when I had been in the city some time. I 
 had no fear till I heard that he was alive, but now I was in great dread 
 of him. I am told nothing can save me from him but a divorce, and 
 this I fear I can not obtain after so long a time. 
 
 "You can do it if you can prove adultery or bigamy on him." 
 
 I said I did not know of any who could prove anything against him. 
 
 "Tell me, Sir Charles," I said, in great distress, "what power the 
 law gives a man over his wife short of murder?" 
 
 Said the judge: "It gives a great deal, and this man, from what I 
 hear of him, can and will ruin your life, if you do not escape from him. 
 He will destroy your happiness if he knows you are here, or if you 
 acknowledge him, or let him have a claim on you." 
 
 "All you have said he has already done. When I heard of his 
 death, the dark pall was lifted from my buried hopes, and for a time I 
 was comparatively happy. Again hearing that he was alive, the pall 
 descended, and I am enveloped in gloom darker than the grave. 1 
 was glad to hear the kind judge say he would serve me in every way 
 he could. He said I could have a legal separation and a maintenance 
 from him, and the law would protect me from violence. I said I could 
 and would support myself; I had done it; I wanted nothing from him. 
 Sir Charles explained the law in several cases, but I feared my case 
 could not meet the requirements of the law. It seemed that nothing 
 short of superhuman effort could trace up evidence of things long past, 
 and perhaps forgotten, or witnesses dead, or out of the colony. If 1
 
 422 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 expected or desired freedom, a heavy task lay before me. I would be 
 compelled to speak of my wrongs, and of my griefs unspeakable. 
 
 With a strong will, I will be calm, I said, or try to appear so, though 
 
 my heart was sick and sinking. My dear old friend, Mr. N , of 
 
 H y, accompanied me to the office of Mr. Bakewell. How my 
 
 spirit writhed as I laid bare my wrongs to this man of business; but his 
 business manner helped me to express myself. He saw the difficulties 
 in the way, but he would leave nothing undone to bring things right. 
 It would take time. I asked what was to be done. 
 
 Mr. Bakewell said: "First, your marriage has to be proved; then 
 Mr. Davies' cruelty; then his crimes, if any; then his identity with the 
 man who was to be brought up." 
 
 I told him that I should help him to find the people who could tes- 
 tify, if they were in the colony or alive, and with the energy of de- 
 spair, I set to work. There is a power in the human will, when bent 
 with unswerving purpose on one great aim. All the witnesses to my 
 marriage, even the Colonial Chaplain, who performed the ceremony, 
 were dead, only one was left, and he was far away; but I found him, 
 and I asked him if he remembered being at Mr. Davies' marriage. 
 
 "His first or second marriage?" he asked. 
 
 (Second marriage! here was a revelation, I thought.) 
 
 "His first," I answered. 
 
 Yes, he said ; he was one of the groomsmen. I said I did not know 
 
 Mr. D had been married twice. He said he had heard of a second 
 
 marriage, but could not swear to it ; he had lost sight of Mr. Davies 
 for some years. I asked him if he remembered Mrs. Davies. 
 
 "Yes, and I think you are the lady." 
 
 He was a proprietor of a large hotel in the country, and Mrs. N ■ 
 
 and myself had dined there. I asked him if he could tell me of any 
 one who had witnessed the second marriage. Some of his workmen I 
 was told could tell me, but I ascertained that all were dead save one, 
 
 who was proprietor of a large hotel at the port. I told Mr. H to 
 
 be ready to appear in court to identify me and prove my marriage. I 
 
 then, without rest, went to the port, many miles from Mr. H 's. 
 
 Mr. I, N , son of my friends, Mr. and Mrs. N , went with 
 
 me to Charles G 's hotel at the port. Mr. N asked Mr. 
 
 G how long it was since Mr. D was married the second time. 
 
 He was told, so long. I then made myself known to my former em- 
 ploy6. He seemed alarmed when I told him I wished him to testify 
 to a second marriage. I found him very unwilling to answer any more
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 423 
 
 questions. I asked him and his wife if they remembered, or did they 
 choose to forget, the cruelty that drove me from the colony ; or did 
 they think I had returned to take revenge upon him who had so deeply 
 wronged me? I told them if they had such thoughts to put them 
 away. Revenge belongs not to me. "Vengeance is mine, saith the 
 Lord; I will repay." 
 
 "All I seek is, that the tie that binds me to Mr. D maybe 
 
 broken — the marriage made null — so that I may never again be ex- 
 posed to his malice. 
 
 "Oh," said Mr. G , "if you do not wish to prosecute for cruelty 
 
 and bigamy, I can testify to Mr. D 's second marriage, for I was 
 
 present at the marriage; but his wife and child are both dead." 
 
 He said much more, and Mr. N took notes of all he said, read 
 
 them to him, and had him put his name to them, and we left. We 
 had to walk a long distance, and a fearful storm overtook us. Dark- 
 ness enveloped us, and we were nearly blown into the sea, so furious 
 was the wind. The rain drenched us, and the thunder and lightning 
 
 were awful. We had great difficulty in reaching Mr. N 's house. 
 
 I had dry garments put on, but I shivered with cold. Next day my 
 head ached, and I had fever, but I had to return to Adelaide. My 
 clothes were not quite dry, but I put them on, reached Adelaide in 
 the midst of another storm of rain, and was again thoroughly drenched. 
 I had to hunt up an old lady, whose daughter had been my maid, and 
 
 had been hired by Mr. D as a spy on my actions. I knew not 
 
 where to find her, no one knew anything of her, and she was a very 
 important link in the chain of evidence needed. I took shelter in a 
 store from the heavy rain. I leaned my elbow wearily on the counter, 
 and sat drooping and dripping, when a well-dressed young woman came 
 into the store with a child in her arms. She started when she saw me, 
 and rather timidly approached me, and asked : 
 
 "Are you Mrs. Davies, ma'am." 
 
 "Yes," I said; "but I do not know you." 
 
 "I am married now, but I am your servant E S ," she said. 
 
 "What!" I said, "is your mother alive?" 
 
 Energy returned to my drooping frame when she said, yes. God 
 was surely clearing the way. I told her to take me right to where her 
 mother was, and she did so. I fpiestioned the old lady in a friendly 
 way as to what she remembered of the treachery, cruelty and infidelity 
 
 of Mr. D . She had seen and knew more of the brutality to 
 
 which I had been subjected than I expected. She had been a sj^y on
 
 424 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Mr. D 's actions as her daughter had been on mine. Of course, 
 
 I never knew anything of her eavesdropping. I found her perfecdy 
 willing to tell all she knew. Now, I said, no one can say that I have 
 prejudiced my friends against this man, for I have found only his own 
 friends who know aught against him, and, guided by an unseen hand, 
 I have found them. 
 
 I had seen Sir Charles Cooper and Mr. Bakewell several times, and 
 told them what I had done, and they kindly gave their opinion on it, 
 and gave me their counsel. Events were shaping themselves for an 
 issue. Without a change of dress, and without food or sleep, I sat 
 down in my wet clothes, with a fever burning in my veins — but this 
 for the time made me strong — to write my deposition, which took all 
 that day and all that night ; and while writing of cruel deeds, I seemed 
 to be living in the dark past, with all my dead hopes scattered around 
 me. Tongue can not tell what torture I suffered while writing that 
 document. When finished, I gave it to the proper authorities, after 
 testifying to its truth. 
 
 "Great and merciful God," I cried, "let not the wicked triumph 
 over me." 
 
 The dreaded, yet longed-for, day arrived. My faithful friend, Mrs. 
 
 N , sat by me in the great court-house. The Hon. Judge Quinn, 
 
 in his official robes and huge powdered wig, on the bench. The law- 
 yers, in their full white wigs and black gowns, were all very imposing 
 as they bent over their important documents. I sat as if I were in a 
 dream. I could not realize that I had an important part to act in the 
 drama that was passing before me. Presently, without apparent cause, 
 I began to shiver and tremble. Mrs. N whispered : 
 
 "What ails you?" 
 
 "He is here," I said, although I had not heard any one, or seen 
 any one enter. 
 
 Just then a man passed by in front of us and took a seat a little 
 below, then turned and stared at me so broadly that I had to lower a 
 second veil over my face, and I cowered with an indefinable dread. 
 And thus we met for the first time in eighteen years. 
 
 "O God, save me from this man," I prayed. 
 
 I felt his presence in every nerve of my frame. His bold staring 
 brought a severe rebuke upon him from the bench, and his insolent 
 manner brought a second and more severe one for his unmannerly and 
 unmanly conduct. He was threatened with punishment for contempt 
 of court. He was defying the law, though he was in its grip. He
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 425 
 
 was playing with lightning and it scathed him. He thought to intim- 
 idate the court as he had done me. Poor man ! His three friends 
 in simple justice to my cause, gave evidence to a few startling facts. 
 One link in the chain of evidence was wanting, and how to find that 
 no one could tell. Mr. D left the court-house in triumph. With- 
 out the missing link, the work already done was valueless, and he 
 poured out threatenings against me for bringing him there. I was 
 
 carried home to Mr. N 's house more dead than alive. I laid me 
 
 down and groaned in anguish. I asked why the Lord stood afar off 
 from me, and hid himself from me, when I was in such ♦rouble? 
 Again I asked, "Will nothing but death give me peace? Oh, then, 
 let me die and be at rest." 
 
 As Mr. N and family knelt around my bed that night, I heard 
 
 the good man pray for strength to be given to the weak, the balm of 
 Gilead for the heart-wounded, and peace to the troubled mind. 
 "Have mercy, O God, on the weary wanderer, whose pathway has 
 been rough and thorny, and the poor thing has fainted by the way. 
 Restore her to health of body and mind, if it be thy will ; if not, take 
 her to thyself in peace." Amen. 
 
 "Take me home, take me home, for I am very weary," I said. 
 
 But my work was not yet done; God's purpose not yet complete. 
 
 I was taken to the court-house next day, and in consideration of my 
 
 illness was taken to a private room. Mrs. N , with her motherly 
 
 care, was at my side. A clergyman came into the room with a large 
 book under his arm ; Mr. Bakewell followed. The book was opened, 
 and the two gentlemen compared the writing in the book with written 
 papers on hand. They shook their heads and were not satisfied. Mr. 
 Bakewell seemed annoyed. He asked me if I knew the handwriting 
 in one of the papers. I said I did not. This added to his disappoint- 
 ment. I asked permission to look at the clergyman's book. I found 
 it full of names, written in different hands. It was a record, or regis- 
 ter. I was about to shut the book, it did not interest me, when a 
 name caught my eye, and I said, I know that handwriting. The 
 clergyman looked at the name and left the room. Presently I was 
 called into the court-room and put on oath. Several papers were put 
 into my hands, and I was asked if I knew the writing. 
 
 "No," I said. 
 
 An open register of names was placed before me. I was asked if I 
 knew any of the writing on the face of the book. I said, pointing to 
 one signature, that I knew that one, and that was enough. That was
 
 426 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the fnissing link. On this the case hinged. A learned discussion took 
 place in court, and I was led out almost unconscious. At the door I 
 met Sir Charles Cooper, who was watching the case closely, but could 
 not sit on it, as he had given me private advice as a friend. The 
 clergyman was just saying to Mrs. N , "We have a very interest- 
 ing case going on in court just now." 
 
 Mrs. N pointed to me, and said: "This lady is the plaintiff in 
 
 the case." 
 
 He turned to me, and said: "Madam, you have my profoundest 
 sympathy, and I hope the verdict will be yours. You have right on 
 your side." 
 
 I bowed. I was taken home to bed. The excitement and exposure 
 through which I had passed prostrated me, and I lay down not caring 
 whether I should ever rise again. I lay helpless for many days. 
 When the full Court met, with Sir Charles Cooper at its head, and sat 
 
 in judgment on the case, it gave me a verdict, and Mr. D had to 
 
 pay all costs on both sides. When the decision of the Court was writ- 
 ten on parchment, signed, sealed and delivered to me, how did I feel? 
 My prayer had been heard and answered by a prayer-hearing and 
 prayer-answering God, and I was legally and morally free. It is well 
 for poor, weak humanity that our heavenly Father is long-suffering and 
 patient with his poor creatures. I had not felt that I was rebelling 
 against God; I only felt tempest-tossed, and was seeking refuge from 
 the storm. I said I could not live if I were not free; now I was free, 
 and I felt less like living than ever. Now the victory was mine, but, 
 alas, for the triumph; alas, for an approving conscience. I had no 
 consolation in any or all of these. I was mentally and physically pros- 
 trated, until I heard that Mr. D was breathing out threatenings 
 
 and curses against me. Mr. Bakewell told me that my safety depended 
 upon the incarceration of Mr. D , and that this must be done. I said, 
 
 ' 'This must not be done ; not one hair of this man's head shall suffer 
 on my account. Vengeance or revenge does not belong to me. God 
 knows I forgive him all the injuries he has ever done me. Now that 
 he is in my power, and the law of the land supports me to bring him 
 to punishment, I will show that I have freely forgiven him, by paying 
 all his indebtedness to the Court. This done, as soon as I am well 
 enough, I shall leave the colony, and never more cross his path, and 
 may he turn to the Lord, and live in peace." 
 
 All I prayed for was that the law would not give him dominion over 
 me.
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 427 
 
 "We shall see to it that he does not cross your path, or trouble you 
 in any way. We shall notify him that if he interferes with you in any 
 way, the Crown will prosecute him for bigamy." 
 
 I said: "Pray do not press a vanquished man; let mercy prevail." 
 "Your kindness to him is entirely unmerited; your forbearance 
 almost more than human." 
 
 "My Master has told me to bless them who curse me, and to do 
 good to them that hate me, and pray for them who despitefully use me 
 and persecute me." 
 
 In settling accounts with Mr. Bakewell, he said, in getting the case 
 up I had done the work of two men, and that what services he had 
 rendered, he cheerfully rendered to me for nothing, as a friend — that 
 I had done the most difficult part of the work, and he had no trouble 
 in the case. All the other expenses were paid, but by whom I never 
 knew. 
 
 I can never cease to be grateful to God for raising up around me so 
 many Christian friends, who were untiring in their efforts to restore me 
 
 to myself again. Brother M , Dr K , Mr. Neil, Mr. Angas, 
 
 Mr. Bakewell (the last three are dead now), and Mr. B , with their 
 
 Christian families, will ever be remembered by me at the throne of 
 
 grace, for their kindness to me in those darkest hours. Mr. B , with 
 
 more feeling than reason, said that God had sent me to be a blessing to 
 him, and his. 
 
 "Be my wife, he said, "and I will shield you from the ills of life as 
 far as one mortal can shield another. I will make a happy home for 
 you; will you come to it?" 
 
 I said; "Oh, Mr. B , this can never be; my wounds can not be 
 
 healed in this way. I can not entertain the thought for a moment. I 
 appreciate your kindness, but I can never be anything but a friend to 
 you. Do not think of me any more; do not talk to me any more on 
 the subject, for it is painful." 
 
 A few days later, I was on a short visit to Dr. K 's, and was 
 
 sick in bed, when a messenger came from Mr. B , to tell mc that 
 
 Mr. D had gone to Gawlor, a town thirty miles from the city, to 
 
 visit friends, and that "yesterday he dropped down dead, and was 
 buried to-day." 
 
 "Merciful Father," I cried, and I sprang out of bed, and said, "I 
 shall visit his grave to-morrow." 
 
 "You are crazy; you are not able," the doctor said. 
 
 "Yes, I know I am crazy; that is why I wish, why I must go and
 
 428 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 see his grave. I hunted for it one day, but could not find it; perhaps 
 now I will be more successful. Do not try to dissuade me, for I am 
 going." 
 
 "You are mad to attempt it. It is as much as your life is worth." 
 "My life is of little value at present, and if I forfeit it, well! I shall 
 make the attempt." 
 
 And in the face of the opposition of my friends, who thought the 
 step unwise, I went to Gawlor, and wading through tall rank grass satu- 
 rated with the night's rain, I stood by his grave at last, with a weight 
 of anguish bound on my life, crushing out love and youth, and, as far 
 as this world was concerned, hope. My sick soul was darkened with 
 shadows from my past sufferings. The man who had ruined my life, 
 and blighted my happiness, and made my life a hard and bitter thing, 
 lay at my feet. I had in my woman's helplessness to struggle alone 
 against the world in sighs and tears. I have carried a quivering, 
 stricken human heart within me, but all unknown to the world through 
 which I was struggling. What a strange moment, when I stood beside 
 the new laid turf, that covered all the earthly part of him who had 
 been the main spring of all my grief. The terror of my life lay quietly 
 sleeping at my feet. I stood there in lonely thought beside the voice- 
 less dead. No more passions will disturb the breast of the dreamless 
 sleeper; his race is run, his journey's ended in his manhood's prime, 
 
 " How still and peaceful is the grave, 
 Where life's vain tumults past ; 
 The appointed house by heaven's decree 
 Receives us all at last." 
 
 I asked myself if I had freely, fully forgiven him. I bowed before 
 God, and said: "As I hope to be forgiven, so I forgive." 
 
 The fiery trials through which I had passed made a brand too deep 
 to fade, but I was free from that haunting terror. I was only weary, 
 and I longed for rest. 
 
 Mr. Angas wished me to spend a few months with his family in the 
 country ; but I was too sick- to go so far. 
 
 At Mr. M 's they did everything that ingenuity could devise for 
 
 my well being. Even little Lilly beguiled me of many painful hours. 
 I asked God again and again to bless him and his forever, for their 
 kindness to the sick stranger within their gate. And now I say amen 
 to that prayer. 
 
 Everybody was kind and good, but I felt that I could not get well
 
 VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA. 
 
 429 
 
 in Adelaide. I must leave it, much as I loved my old and new made 
 
 friends. Mr. B renewed his suit, now that Mr. D was dead, 
 
 but I told him to let me pass from his mind like a troubled dream, for 
 I could be nothing more to him. 
 
 I prepared to leave friends who had endeared themselves by every 
 Christian tie, and the love I have for them ends only with my life. I 
 paid a farewell visit to Shirley. Mrs. Bakewell put her arms around 
 my neck, and said : 
 
 "You did not, could not, realize that you were free, by having only 
 that which man could give you; but now, my dear friend, God has 
 given you a double freedom. You must try and be happy, now that 
 you have nothing to fear." 
 
 "The wounds I have received can not heal without scars; they were 
 too deep. I have nothing in this world to fear, or yet hope for; I am 
 alone, and have nothing to do, only as God will use me, as an instru- 
 ment in his hand to do good to others." 
 
 The farewells were spoken, and I went on board the Ann and Jam ^ 
 and was once more afloat.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 RETURN TO NEW SOUTH WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 
 
 Captain Smith was a man of large frame, with a face like fire, and 
 a stentorian voice. He looked to me like a high-tempered, hard-drink- 
 ing man. Appearances were all against him. If the vessel gave a 
 lurch, his voice from the breakfast table was heard above the winds, 
 giving orders to the man at the wheel. In a moment he was at the bow 
 of the brig, shouting to the men aloft, then down to the breakfast table 
 again. I was afraid of tke burly captain's thundering voice. He was 
 
 a particular friend of Mr. I. N and I was by that gendeman put 
 
 under the special care of the captain, who at first refused to take me. 
 
 "A sick lady, indeed! I want no such passenger. It would be, 
 'Captain, I want this, and captain, I want that, and I could not attend 
 to the brig and the peevish sick lady; and she would take up the stew- 
 ard's whole time.'." 
 
 I heard this rough speech, and I would not have asked to go on his 
 brig, but it was the only vessel for Sydney, and he was well known 
 to my friends. So I overcame my repugnance to the man, and 
 begged, with almost tears in my eyes, to be taken to Sydney. I said, 
 with quivering voice : 
 
 "I shall not be troublesome, captain." 
 
 You poor, pale-faced thing, are you the sick lady? Well, I think I 
 shall have pity on you and take you. I have a man and his wife in 
 the steerage; I shall give the woman a free passage to wait on you." 
 
 I was installed in a cozy litde cabin, with a chest of drawers and 
 otherwise nicely furnished, and a good, clean bed, and that was a great 
 luxury. This was all I wanted, and I lay down, and was only once 
 on deck in all the two weeks' voyage. At every meal I could hear 
 the captain say to the steward, 
 
 "See if that poor thing wants anything." 
 
 To the question, my constant answer was, 
 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 At night I would ask for a glass of water to be placed by me, and 
 in the morning it would be removed untouched. This state of affairs 
 lasted a week. I was very sick besides being sea-sick. One day the 
 
 (430)
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE EUSH. 43 1 
 
 vessel pitched very suddenly and rolled the captain into my room, 
 very unceremoniously, throwing him down into a seat. Fortunately 
 he was not hurt. 
 
 "Well," he said, "the Ann and Jane is not very polite to pitch me 
 in here, but now that I am in, I must tell you, you are not doing to 
 my liking. You need not be frightened, you poor thing. I do not 
 like those blue rings round your eyes, nor your pale cheeks, nor your 
 lying there, and at every meal when asked if you want anything, 'No, 
 thank you.' You don't give trouble enough. I am afraid you are too 
 sick for that. Now I must look after you. The woman that I had to 
 wait on you gives more trouble than you do. I have sent her back to 
 the steerage for her husband to nurse her and feed her, as she is fond of 
 eating. You have not asked for one thing save water since you have 
 been on board. I shall have some nice soup or gruel, and you must 
 take some nourishment, or you will die. I shall carry you upon deck, 
 where the fresh air will revive and strengthen you. Now 1 must go." 
 
 I thanked him for his kindness. 
 
 "No thanks, but do as I tell you." 
 
 Three times that day I tried to get up, but fainted every time, and 
 so gave up the effort. Another day I wrapped a cloak around me, 
 and the captain carried me up on deck as if I had been a baby. He 
 put me in a basket chair and lashed it to a mast; then fastened me to 
 the chair and propped me up with pillows, put an ottoman under my 
 feet, and over me and the chair he threw a rug, tucking it in all around 
 me. His gentle, lamb like voice, his tender manner to me, was as 
 surprising as would have been such gentleness from a grizzly bear. 
 Good old Captain Smith was like a father to me. I had formed a 
 wrong opinion of him. He was a gentle-hearted giant. We had a 
 pleasant voyage from port to port with but one storm. We sighted 
 Sydney Heads one Sunday morning, when the captain asked me if I 
 would like to go to church that day. I said I would, and he said ho 
 would take me. 
 
 "I think it is right to thank God for preserving us on our voyage." 
 
 I found this rough sailor a true Christian in word and deed, gentle 
 in heart, sober in habits, kind and attentive to the sick, and full of 
 sympathy for the sorrowing. As I entered the harbor, I thought of 
 the revolutions that had been wrought in me and my affairs since I 
 had sailed out of it six months before. Where was the barfjue 
 Miami in which I sailed? A wreck on the ocean with her heavy 
 freight. Where was I ? A wreck on the ocean of life.
 
 432 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 We cast anchor in the evening. The captain lowered his boat and 
 took me to the Baptist Church, of which Mr. Voller had the oversight. 
 I hstened to the organ tones of the captaui's voice while they were 
 singing I introduced the captain to Mr. Voller after the service. 
 They were fast friends ever after. I had to go back to the ship to 
 sleep that night, in order to pack up for landing early in the morning, 
 as the captain had to prosecute his voyage to New Castle. He had 
 nothing to do at Sydney but land me. On leaving the ship the captain 
 returned me one- half of my passage money. I asked what this was 
 for? 
 
 "I thought you would be troublesome on board, and I charged 
 accordingly, but you not only gave no trouble at all, but you were too 
 quiet, and you ate nothing, so I can not make you pay for what you 
 did not have. Now my advice is, consult a doctor, get well as fast as 
 you can, and on my next voyage to New Castle, I shall put in here 
 and take you with me a pleasure trip, and any of your lady friends 
 you may please to take with you. I shall make you comfortable and 
 charge you nothing. I shall at any time you wish be happy to give 
 you a free passage back to Adelaide," he said. 
 
 At this I shook my head. 
 
 "Well, get well and go with me to New Castle." 
 
 And so my new friend and I parted. 
 
 This shipowner's treatment of me and that of the owner of the 
 Miami were very different. Captain Smith was a Christian, that made 
 all the difference. 
 
 I consulted Dr. Brerton, who told me that my nervous system was 
 entirely destroyed, and my vital energies crushed out of me; but he 
 hoped in time to restore me. He recommended the Turkish Bath, 
 and for me to live perfectly quiet and out of doors as much as possi- 
 ble. My life at present hung on a brittle thread. I must not be 
 excited on any account. 
 
 My friend Mr. H , though I had forbidden him to write, wrote 
 
 regularly. First he wrote of his great disappointment, then of his 
 
 sympathy, then of . To all of which I had nothing to say. He 
 
 came to Sydney to meet me; was delighted to see me, and said: 
 
 "How well you look." 
 
 Something must have blinded him. He had come with the firm 
 purpose of carrying me off home with him as his own. His words 
 were daggers to me. I could not speak but in monosyllables. I had 
 no chord that could now be touched by his passionate speeches. Days
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AXD TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 433 
 
 passed, and still he lingered. He asked me why I was so tardy in 
 fulfilling my promise; the time was past. I roused myself with great 
 effort, and said : 
 
 "Do not rest your plea on the promise I made to you a few months 
 ago, for in the sight of high heaven I had no right to make it, the 
 world's opinion to the contrary notwithstanding; but I did it in pro- 
 found ignorance of my real condition. God saved me from the peril- 
 ous precipice on the brink of which I stood, and that promise is null. 
 You are nothing to me now, nor I to you, save a friend." 
 
 He urged me by every kind of entreaty to have a quiet marriage 
 and go to his home with him, where all were expecting me. I told 
 him I could not bring him happiness or help, so I must, in considera- 
 tion for him and his, refuse. I was enchained by a feeling of desola- 
 tion. Everything wore the hue of death, and all was marked with 
 vanity. My tried heart was wasted, and my thoughts were nothing 
 
 worth. Mr. H after a few weeks left Sydney, having extorted 
 
 from me an unwilling promise that if I recovered my health in three 
 months I should marry him. I was sorry for him, but his presence to 
 me was torture. I felt relief when he went away. Time was passing 
 and I was no better. I looked forward with dread to the end of the 
 
 three months. A few more days and then the end. Mrs. I , a 
 
 friend, said : 
 
 "We must go out to day and do some shopping. I declare, you 
 have not prepared a single thing for the wedding, and you know this 
 day week is to be the great day." 
 
 I told her I was weary and would lie down, and as I lay I dreamed, 
 
 though not asleep. When Mrs. I was ready for business, I told 
 
 her that it was needless for me to prepare, for Mr. H and I should 
 
 never be wed. 
 
 "Yes you will, in a week," she said. 
 
 Never shall I marry any man with the feeling that I have. Instead 
 
 of preparing, I sat down to pen a few lines to Mr. H , full of dark 
 
 shadows. My pen was dipped in gloom. I told my friend, as it was 
 impossible for me to take duties on myself for which I was utterly 
 incapable, and feeling myself bound by an unwilling promise to do so, 
 only retarded my recovery; and if he really cared for me, he would 
 release me from the promise ; for I felt that I could not make him 
 happy. The dark past was ever throwing shadows around me. Noth- 
 ing seemed able to expel the gloom. I could not rouse up to take an 
 interest in anything. I told him to forcet me. For myself, I had 
 28
 
 434 
 
 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 drunk the cup of bitterness to the dregs, and there was nothing for me 
 but to endure. I packed up all his letters and his likeness, and sent 
 them to him, and asked him to return mine. He wrote a farewell letter 
 to me, but did not return mine for years after. We never met again. 
 
 On my return from Adelaide, I had letters waiting to be opened from 
 America. One announced the death of my dear friend Judge Edmunds. 
 The American Bible Union received a great blow when he was called 
 away from his labors. The war was raging, and there was no hope 
 for my return to America now. 
 
 A letter in the Harbinger read as follows : 
 
 CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE MUSEUM OF BETHANY COLLEGE. 
 We are pleased to acknowledge a box of valuable natural curiosities presented 
 to the Museum of Bethany College from New South Wales, Australia, by our 
 zealous sister, E. Davies. It consists of some curious implements of art used by 
 the natives, and many valuable and interesting specimens of the animal produc- 
 tions of that far-off land. A fine assortment of sponges, some very curious and 
 rare ; a beautiful collection of sea grasses, and a case of thirty or forty varieties 
 of birds, all differing in size, in form or plumage, from any varieties known in 
 the United States. The present is one to gladden the eyes of a naturalist, and 
 will elicit for Sister Davies the thanks of many a friend of hers and of Bethany 
 College. We hope she will appreciate the worth of this good service enough to 
 be stimulated to repeat the kindness, and that we shall have the pleasure of ac- 
 knowledging other contributions to the Museum of Bethany College. 
 
 Wm. K. Pendt-eton. 
 
 I was pleased to read this letter, seeing that my labor of collecting 
 and preserving and packing my specimens was not lost, and that in 
 the midst of the war they safely reached their destination. 
 
 I wrote to Mr. Campbell, giving him a full account of my voyage to 
 Adelaide. 
 
 As our brethren had no church in Sydney, and I wished to belong 
 to a church, I wrote to the Baptist Church of which I was once a mem- 
 ber under another pastor. I asked for admission, though I did not 
 believe in their creed, and I objected to some other things that they 
 practiced. They might also object to me on account of my objections 
 to them, and they might object to me calling myself simply a Christian, 
 with no creed but the Bible. They did not object, but gladly received 
 me. The Rev. James Voller, pastor, was very anxious to know what 
 I objected to. I told him creeds, pew rents, the monthly communion 
 and the title Reverend. He said he had heard of some people who 
 .were .called Campbellites, who did not believe in the work of the Holy
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 435 
 
 Spirit, and believed strange doctrines. I gave him a small book to 
 read, Principles of the Reformation, by Dr. Richardson. When he read 
 the work, he exclaimed : 
 
 "If that be Campbellism, I am a Campbellite from this day." 
 
 I said it was Christianity. I supplied him with Mr. Campbell's 
 works, and reform began at Mr. VoUer's door-plate. The "Reverend" 
 was cut off; there were no more pew rents; the supper was adminis- 
 tered weekly; the Bible was more read. I felt very much at home 
 with my Baptist brethren. Time passed, and reform went on. 
 
 Mr. VoUer's health failed, and he gave up his charge, and went 
 to Queensland, saying that, if health permitted, he would plant a 
 church on Christian principles in his new home. An orthodox min- 
 ister was sent from England to fill Mr. VoUer's place, and he put a 
 check on the reform, and caused many of the more enlightened to 
 leave the church, and join the Disciples, who had meantime planted a 
 congregation in Sydney. 
 
 I was months ill ere my physical strength returned. 
 
 "Eureka! Eureka!" cried a young gentleman friend one day to me. 
 
 "What? Where?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, a place out of the way, where no one will go to, or stay at, 
 or work in, because the people are so wicked, and the young people 
 perishing for instruction, and plenty of wild children there; but no re- 
 spectable person will stay among the people, or take hold of the chil- 
 dren to do them good. I heard you say that you wanted to go to such 
 a place, destitute and wicked. Will you go there?" 
 
 My emphatic "Yes, I will," rather st;^rtled my young friend, who 
 said laughingly, 
 
 "I thought you were only talking romantic sentimentalism, and like 
 others I know, when a real case came before you, you would shrink 
 from difficulty or danger." 
 
 "No, Robert, if the Lord has work to be done in that dangerous 
 locality that I can do, let me go to it. I have no choice. I have 
 vowed to the Lord, and to him I will perform my vows." 
 
 Robert Dixson was son of my friends Mr. and Mrs. Dixson. Mr. 
 
 D was a tobacco manufacturer and merchant. Robert, with a few 
 
 other young gentlemen, formed what was called the Juvenile Hush 
 Missionary Society. Their work was to go out to the suburbs, the 
 highways and by-ways, and places out of all ways, with tracts, and talk 
 to the people, and do what good they could. They had gone farther 
 than usual one Sunday, and they came upon this out of the way place.
 
 436 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Robert and I started one day to visit North Sydney. We crossed 
 Port Jackson, and walked up on the nortli side tlirough several miles 
 of forest land, over rocks and down into gullies, winding up and down, 
 out and in, and treading the way under a broiling sun, until my head 
 ached, and my feet were fairly blistered. I was not strong, and I had 
 to sit down on the road, or on a rock rather, for there was no road. I 
 rose and dragged along, till we reached a hut hidden away in the bush. 
 I was not able to walk back to town, so I lodged where I was for the 
 night. Robert Dixson introduced me to the people, and then walked 
 home. 
 
 Next morning I took a child to conduct me over the place. I found 
 a great many huts spread over a wide extent. I saw dirty, ragged 
 children. I asked the equally dirty mothers if they would like to send 
 their children to school. Some said that they had no school to send 
 to; others said they had no clothes to wear; others that they had no 
 money to pay for school, and others asked me, 
 
 "What will ye gie us to send our childer to school?" 
 
 I found the people low, ignorant, vicious and drunken, living by 
 stealing. They were liars and swearers; the fear of God was not be- 
 fore their eyes, nor did they regard the laws of man. They were so 
 hidden away in the dense bush, that but very few knew of their scat- 
 tered village. The people here were in perishing need of the restraints 
 and purifying influences of the Gospel, and Christianity might be the 
 salvation of some of these reprobates. At least the children might be 
 rescued. Freed from the restraints of law, morality and religion, many 
 of them gloried in their shame, and looked with suspicion and dread 
 upon every attempt made, to introduce among them the light and in- 
 fluence of the truth. I found a strong disinclination among them to 
 have me settle in their midst. They preferred to have no school for 
 their children, if it was at all likely to interfere with their vicious 
 habits. However, I talked kindly to some of the mothers about their 
 children, and told them some of the advantages of education, and so I 
 gained the promise of a few, that they would send their children to 
 school, if I should begin one. 
 
 June 16, 1862, I opened school at North Sydney with eighteen chil- 
 dren. To a worldling the prospect of a good Hving would have been 
 gloomy in the extreme. However, ' 'Man does not live by bread alone. " 
 With this motto, I began in God's strength to work while it was called 
 day. I felt that if I did my Master's work faithfully. He would help 
 me in time of need.
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 437 
 
 The little hut in which I began to work was hidden away in the tall 
 weeds and underbrush, but we cleared a space around it. The tin roof 
 was so low, that when it was heated, it was like an oven ready to bake 
 meat. To prevent the baking, we had branches of trees spread over 
 the top, to keep off the sun's rays. We patched up the back wall, as 
 the half had been torn down by the vandals for kindling-wood. I at 
 once took deep interest in the unkempt, unwashed ragamuffins, who 
 were as wild as the native kangaroo, and as shy. 
 
 I was at my post a week or so, when two young men called on 
 me at my lodging place, the most disreputable looking specimens ^f 
 young manhood imaginable. They were very dirty to begin with. 
 One had hard, frizzy, red hair, standing out from his head, his face 
 spotted with huge brown freckles, and so dirty, the color was undis- 
 tinguishable. His clothes were filthy and ragged. The other, dark- 
 haired and down-looking, in his shirt sleeves and dirty. These roughs 
 sat with their caps on, while they asked me to open a night school 
 for them in a very insolent, assured tone. 
 
 "A school!" I exclaimed in surprise; "what do you want with a 
 school?" 
 
 "We want to go to it," said they, leering at each other. 
 
 I told them I could not open a night school for them, and when 
 asked my reason for refusing, I told them I was afraid of them, they 
 looked so fierce, and everything but respectable, and that I had heard 
 of their being bad characters. 
 
 "Oh, that's it, is it? Well, you had better open a school for us; we 
 will behave ourselves." 
 
 I hardly knew whether to take this as a prayer or a threat. I told 
 them I feared to open a school, lest I should have to close it in a short 
 time. I was told that a female of doubtful reputation had opened a 
 night school for the young people of the surrounding neighborhoods, 
 and it was nothing more than a rendezvous for them to play ])ranks. 
 At this they burst out in a great hoarse laugh. 
 
 "Well, try us; ye may as well gie us a trial." 
 
 Their persistence made me pause. Perhaps God would make me, 
 weak as I was. an instrument in his hand of doing good to these row- 
 dies. I asked them, were I to open a school for them, would they 
 be willing to be entirely guided by me while in it? 
 
 "Oh, yes," they said. 
 
 I still hesitated. I put up a mental j)rayer for resolution to decide. 
 I told them I heard they were drinkers.
 
 438 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 '''Now will you pledge yourselves to refrain from drink that will do 
 you harm?" I asked. 
 
 "O yes," they answered. 
 
 Then I shall open a night-school, and every one who wishes to en- 
 roll his name on my school-book must first sign a teetotal pledge. 
 
 "Agreed," said they. 
 
 Twelve of the dirtiest, rowdiest-looking young persons, male and 
 female, signed the pledge, and took their seats in school. To me it 
 was a novel sight, this dirty, waiting group, but it was also a novelty 
 to them, to see a clean, neatly-dressed woman in their midst. But 
 tliis novelty would wear off, and I asked God to direct me how to 
 interest and gain the confidence of these repulsive young people, as 
 well as to instruct them. I told them frankly this first night, that I 
 could not combat with twelve persons if they chose to be contrary, or 
 inclined to extinguish the lights and throw the ink-bottles about, or 
 chase each other round the room in the dark, upsetting forms and 
 desks, as they had done formerly ; but I could and would most cer- 
 tainly close the school-doors on them, and never open to them again. 
 They all seemed too ready to do as I told them. I had not much faith 
 in their promises. I requested them to come the next night with clean 
 faces and hands, and commence their work of improvement. I was 
 just closing my eyes to sleep that night, when I heard the most horrid 
 yells ringing through the bush. I did not know whether they pro- 
 ceeded from drunken men or savages. I was not able to sleep for a 
 long time. Next morning I was informed that my night scholars were 
 up to their old tricks, yelling through the woods and pulling gates off 
 their hinges. Wagon wheels were broken, and property destroyed as 
 usual. The second night my scholars looked all the better for a plen- 
 tiful use of soap and water. Before dismissing them for the night, I 
 asked them if they knew anything of the rowdies who were prowling 
 through the bush last night. I said they had frightened me, so that I 
 could not sleep, and if such men were allowed to prowl around, that 
 I would be afraid to come and go to school alone. I must look to 
 them for protection. 
 
 "Here are four grown young men; will you come for me and take 
 me home every evening; will you be my body-guard?" 
 
 "We will," was given in hearty response. 
 
 The night prowling and destroying of property were broken up en- 
 tirely from that night. 
 
 For two weeks, teacher and taught seemed to watch each other very
 
 RETURN TO N, S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 439 
 
 closely. I was on the alert for improprieties. I neither took, nor 
 allowed to be taken, the least liberty. Outwardly, all was cahii and 
 quiet. This state of things was unusual for them, and I feared an 
 outbreak. Two weeks of quiet, respectful behavior on their part, two 
 weeks of painful watching on mine, passed, and I relaxed somewhat. 
 One night I said to tliem, as I knew they had good voices, I should 
 like to hear them sing, and would they sing a few songs ere they left? 
 Each looked at the other, and asked : 
 
 "What shall itbeF' 
 
 They had formerly been in the habit of singing profane songs. I 
 was amused to see the-blank look they gave me when I took some cot- 
 tage hymn-books from a shelf, and said : 
 
 "There are some very pretty songs if you will sing them for me." 
 
 They sang several songs well, and seemed to enjoy the exercise. 
 I told them they might sing a few every night. This pleased them. 
 Another week passed, and I was fast gaining their confidence. I tried 
 in every way to influence them for good, and they felt that I had an 
 interest in their well-being. I told them I would give them a half 
 hour extra every evening if they would read a lesson in the Testa- 
 ment; it would improve their reading and do more; and they could 
 sing, and in that way spend a pleasant half hour. To this they agreed 
 willingly. They seemed to like school. 
 
 My body-guard, all four of them, conducted me to and from the 
 school-house to my lodging every night. I was told that these young 
 men bore very bad characters. I said I believed they had been, but 
 while they were conducting my feet through the unknown mazes of 
 the forest, I was trying to conduct them into the path that led to the 
 feet of their Savior. We trusted each other for guidance, and none 
 were led astray. 
 
 Five weeks passed; my day-school had increased; the children 
 seemed to like school, and I had become deeply interested in both 
 night and day scholars. I went home one afternoon very tired with 
 my day's labor. Mine host, who was a sly rogue and a cunning 
 knave of a very bad type, who had seven children at day and night 
 school, ordered me out of his house, bag and baggage. He said he 
 was not going to lodge a resident governess in his house, to have so 
 much reform, as it was called, going on. He could not get his children 
 to pick up things as they used to do, without their .saying, 
 
 "Father, that is stealing." 
 
 He only wanted them to ]earn to read and write, that he might
 
 440 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 make clever rogues of them. I was quite taken aback by the sud- 
 denness and violence of this bad man's attack on me. I was just then 
 and there turned out of doors, and did not know where to go. 
 
 I sent a messenger to all the men in the village who had children at 
 school, to come to the school-room at once ; I had something to say 
 to them. They came from their pig-stys, their stables, their potato- 
 picking and log-burning, all begrimed with dirt and redolent with 
 various perfumes, and I stood among them trying not to inhale the 
 odor. My body-guard was there in contrast, with their clean faces 
 and combed hair. What does the mistress want, asked a man. 
 
 "Friends, I had intended to stay in this bush-place three months; 
 but I have been turned out of Smith's house at the end of five weeks, 
 without a moment's warning. I did wish to show you what I could 
 do for your children in that time, but if I have to leave you and go to 
 Sydney to-night, I shall never come back to this place again," I said. 
 
 "What do you want?" said one of the uncouth men. 
 
 "You have pigs most of you." 
 
 "Do you want a pig?" cried one. 
 
 "Let the mistress speak," cried another. 
 
 "No," I said, "I do not want your pigs, but you give them a little 
 clean straw now and then to lie on, and a shelter to cover them from 
 the storm. Now, all I want is shelter and a little clean straw to lie on 
 till the three months are expired. I wish to show you that I am your 
 friend." 
 
 Not one of them could give me a decent lodging-place. One poor 
 sot, touched with my modest requirements, said he would sleep in the 
 stable if I would sleep with his wife. Another said he was going to 
 build a room for his daughter; when it was finished, I could sleep 
 with her till the three months were up. In the first house, I had shel- 
 ter, but lacked the clean straw; in the second, I had abed in a box 
 six feet square, with a narrow door and four panes of glass for a win- 
 dow. One night, near the close of the three months' sojourn in this 
 god-forsaken place, I asked myself what I had done for the people, 
 children and young folks since I had lived in their midst. Well, I had 
 organized a day-school, where the children had wonderfully improved 
 for the time. I had a night-school, where the Bible was read and ex- 
 pounded every night; we had a prayer-meeting every Friday evening, 
 and one every Lord's day morning at six o'clock, and we had a Sun- 
 ■day-school, where cricket and other games were discontinued on Sun- 
 day, to enable the young men to take classes in the Sunday-school.
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH, 44 1 
 
 The Juvenile Bush Missionaries came out and preached in my school- 
 room. Mending fences and digging in the gardens were not so preva- 
 lent on Sunday as formerly. The young women were paying more 
 attention to their personal appearance ; they were clean and well-be- 
 haved. This was all well, but was it enough? I felt that it was not. 
 For if I went back to Sydney, my work would go for nothing. They 
 all, both young and old, would lapse into their former habits. I had 
 been told, and I now well knew, that no one would take up this work. 
 The principles of the young people were not established, though all 
 were very much improved. What was to be done I could not tell. I 
 asked the Lord to tell me. A work had been begun, but it was not 
 on a sure foundation. My body-guard, in fact all of my night schol- 
 ars, seemed grateful for the interest I had taken in them, and were 
 trying to show it by taking an interest in themselves. I was not willing 
 to leave them, but I had no bodily comforts, and shortly I would have 
 no place to stay. Having no personal ends to subserve, I sought di- 
 vine guidance, and it came into my mind that a school-house and a 
 residence for the teacher should be built. 
 
 The next morning I rose early and sent for two of my bodyguard 
 to take me to the house of an old gentleman who owned all the 
 forest land round about. I intended to ask him to give me two acres 
 of forest land on which to build a school-house and a teacher's resi- 
 dence. I was strongly advised not to go to Mr. Lithgow, for his 
 Roman Catholic agent, who had full control of the old gentleman and 
 of all he had, would not sanction such a gift. I told them to take me 
 to Mr. Lithgow's, as I did not know the way, and leave the rest to 
 me. I prayed to God to open the heart of the old man, and to give 
 me favor in his sight, and if the work was for the glory of God, to 
 give me success. After walking seven miles we reached the house 
 before breakfast. I was shown into a room, and I sent my card to the 
 master of the mansion. Presently the agent, who acted as house 
 steward and valet to the old man, came to me and asked me what 
 I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Lithgow. Then he asked me 
 my business with him. 
 
 "When I see Mr. Lithgow I shall tell him my business," I said. 
 
 He made every objection to my seeing the old gentleman. I told 
 this disagreeable man that, as I had sent a card to Mr. Lithgow, I 
 should hear from him whether he could see me. A servant came to 
 conduct me to Mr. Lithgow, who rercivcd me very courteously, and 
 asked if I had breakfasted. I had not, and Frank, the agent, was told
 
 442 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 to order breakfast for me, and we should attend to business after. 
 Frank was very much put out at the very unusual proceedings. While 
 my young men were having breakfast in the kitchen, I was pleading 
 their cause with Mr. Lithgow. I laid my crude plans before him, and 
 asked for two acres of land to build on. He said he was astonished to 
 hear a lady of my appearance plead for such people ; I surely did not 
 know what they were, what vile characters they had, or I would have 
 nothing to do with them. 
 
 "They are thieves, for they cut down my timber and sell it, and they 
 are drunkards and liars. Oh, you would not be safe among such vi- 
 cious people." 
 
 I told him I had been living among them for three months, and I 
 knew something about them. He asked if I was not afraid. He gave 
 me other reasons for not going to live in such a dangerous place. I 
 told him that the reasons he gave me for not going to live at that place 
 were the strongest arguments in favor of my doing so. I wished to 
 rescue the children and young people from vice, and the evil example 
 of the older ones was dragging them to destruction. I said, a school 
 built on his land would enhance its value, and it was very necessary 
 to have a residence for a teacher, for no person of respectability could 
 live there without having a place to live in. I said, moreover a school 
 in that part of the country was very important. It might be the nursery 
 of some gigantic intellect, some great and good characters, who might 
 wield an influence for good through all time, bounded only by eter- 
 nity. But let the untamed and boisterous tempers, the stout nerves 
 and stubborn hearts grow up uncultivated, morally and intellectually; 
 we then have the deadly upas tree spreading desolation over the land. 
 The stout arm, instead of holding the olive branch of peace and good 
 will to men, would wield the rifle or revolver; the rich, deep voice, 
 instead of speaking peace to the troubled heart, might demand in 
 hoarsest tones, your money, or your life. 
 
 We have daily proofs of such examples. Every boy that I may 
 teach in the school may not be a law-maker; but if the seeds of truth 
 and honesty are sown in their hearts, they surely will not be law- 
 breakers. The country supplies prisoners and paupers for the city 
 prisons and poor-houses, and as prevention is better than cure, give me 
 two acres of land on which to build a school-house, and prison and 
 pcTor-house will not be needed. 
 
 "Yes, said the old man; "you shall have ten acres instead of two, if 
 you wish."
 
 RETURN TO X. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 443 
 
 "Two is all sufficient for the purpose." 
 
 Frank was ordered to bring charts and maps of the place, to allow 
 me to choose a site for my school. There were three spots which I 
 thought would be suitable. Frank said these were too valuable, as 
 they were central, and likely to sell at a high price. He pointed out 
 land far beyond where the children could reach. I told him only one 
 of the spots I had selected would suit for a school. jNIr. L said : 
 
 "You shall have the land. You know the wants of these people 
 better than they do themselves, and you have pleaded their cause bet- 
 ter than any one I ever heard." 
 
 Frank's looks plainly showed me that he would, if he could, coun- 
 teract my morning's work. 
 
 The old man asked me who was my lawyer, to write out the convey- 
 ance? who was my surveyor, to mark out and survey the land? I told 
 him I had none; for when I left North Sydney that morning, I was 
 told my errand would be fruitless, that I should not get the land, but 
 that I had prayed God to give me success, if I was doing his work. 
 He then asked who would pay for the drawing up of the deeds and the 
 surveyor's work. I said I did not know. He smiled, and said: 
 
 "I suppose you will have to ask God." 
 
 I bowed, and said, "Yes." 
 
 He'directed me to two gentlemen, who would do the work on rea- 
 sonable terms, but said "I must take all the responsibility of paying 
 them on myself, and building, and appointing trustees." He wished 
 me to be a trustee, but I refused. I said I gave the people my work, 
 and I wished to have no claim on the property. 
 
 "Well, I wish you every success." 
 
 Frank was ordered to get the carriage, and take me as near to my 
 home as he could. With a scowl he said a spring of the carriage was 
 broken, and there was no road to North Sydney. I told Mr. Lithgow 
 I could dispense with the carriage, as I was not going to North .Sydney 
 then. I tendered my thanks to the good old man, and bade him good-bye. 
 
 To prevent Frank from doing an evil deed. I told my young men to 
 take me to the lawyer's and surveyor's, tho^^h I had to walk many 
 miles. Frank had sworn, in the hearing of my young men, that, 
 
 "That woman should not outwit him; she should not have her way; 
 the land should not be conveyed to her or anyone else for a school." 
 
 The sleepless night, the excitement of the day, and my eighteen 
 miles walk in the broiling sun, made me very sick; but I rested on 
 Sunday, and on Monday helped the surveyor to mark out and survey
 
 444 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the land, and paid him out of my own purse. A well had to be dug, 
 and 1 shoveled up the first earth from it. I begged for money, to pay 
 for the deeds being written, and kept teaching both day and night. 
 
 Two weeks from the time Frank had sworn that "that woman 
 should not have her way," I called a meeting of the men of the place, 
 and told them that three of them I had made trustees, and gave them 
 the deeds, teUing them everything was secured and paid for, and all 
 they had now to do was to build. They returned the parchment, saying, 
 
 "You have got the land, you can build yourself; we can't." 
 
 My three months were expired; they had seen what I had done for 
 them, now what were they going to do for themselves? They very 
 coolly said, 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 I told them that their indifference to what I had already done, gave 
 me but little encouragement to farther help them. I said they might 
 hinder me in my attempts. I had better leave the place. At prayer- 
 meeting that night, all my night scholars begged me not to leave them. 
 I was their little ship, that was carrying them safely over the breakers 
 to a place of safety. They said they would protect me from bad treat- 
 ment from the older folks of the community, only not to leave them. 
 Here was a wide field to work in, a great work to be done, and I asked 
 myself if I were able to carry it on alone in the face of opposition. 
 
 Mr. Campbell's advice like an inspiration came to my assistance: 
 "Attempt great things, expect great things, and great things will follow." 
 
 Frank put money in his pocket, and winked at his master's timber 
 being stolen. He thought his gains would soon be at an end, and he, 
 through some of the most lawless of these folks, gave me much trouble. 
 But I had to contend with higher and more respectable powers. All 
 the forest land, and the scattered village for a long distance round, be- 
 longed to the Parish of St. Thomas, and the Rev. Rector and his cu- 
 rate, both highly educated and cultivated gentlemen, were arrayed 
 against me. What business had I to get land on which to build a 
 school-house? Frank had told them sorrowing, that I was taking all 
 
 from them by my subtile^ways. They went to Mr. L , and told 
 
 him that he ought to have given the land to the church ; to take it back 
 from me, and give it to them. 
 
 "No," said Mr. L ; "the land was freely given to the only per- 
 son who had shown a desire to do good to a most unworthy people. 
 You ministers ought to have looked after these rogues in your parish,
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 445 
 
 but you have never done it. You only want my land for your church, 
 and I shall not give it to you." 
 
 And in consequence of this refusal, I had great and active opposition 
 from the good but short-sighted gentlemen ; but they could not stop 
 the work, they only made it very hard. Finally they became warm 
 personal friends of mine. 
 
 I called on the Rev. Dean, of Sydney, to ask why it Avas necessary 
 to persecute me for trying to do good ? I told him what I had done 
 in a place which had neither teacher, preacher nor Christian friend to 
 
 help them in any way, though in Rev. Mr. C 's parish. He had 
 
 never taken the least interest in the people's spiritual welfare. Now 
 I, single-handed and alone, am trying to rescue the children and young 
 people from the vortex of vice that would surely engulf them if no 
 hand were stretched out to save them. I said my hand was feeble and 
 needed to be strengthened, not weakened. I was willing to do what 
 the ministers had left undone, but I wished to be allowed to do so in 
 peace. The Dean said: 
 
 "As the Rev. Mr. C was rector of the parish in which North 
 
 Sydney was, he had the right to recommend who should work there." 
 
 I said, had anyone begun a good work amongst the people I should 
 never have taken it out of their hands; but as the people's souls were 
 perishing I ran to the rescue, and no other made the attempt. 
 
 The Rev. Dean found me incorrigible, then he said, if I would 
 teach according to their order, the church would give me a handsome 
 salary. I told him I could not teach their creed or catechism, as I did 
 not believe in them. 
 
 "What," said the Dean, "do you not believe the Bible?" 
 
 "O yes," I said, "but not creeds or catechisms; and no money 
 could induce me to teach what I do not believe." 
 
 The Rev. Dean, with great dignity of manner, said: 
 
 "With the knowledge of the character of those people, arc you 
 willing to go and live amongst them without patronage and without 
 pay? You can not live on mosquitoes." 
 
 "I am willing to go with *he Bible in my hand and the strength of 
 God in my heart and trust to him for bread," I answered. 
 
 "That is right, go into all the world and teach," said the Rev. Dean. 
 
 "Be ye clothed and fed," I said, and took my leave. 
 
 A party had been given to me at the elegant home of the cx-Amcr- 
 ican Consul, whose wife was a very elegant lady. She said that I 
 would lose caste if I went away to the bush to work. 
 
 "Why work at all?"
 
 446 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I said that I had promised the Lord to work for him, and though 
 the work was not congenial it was interesting, and some one ought to 
 do it. 
 
 "Let others do it thenj I shall not like you half so well if you go 
 there. You will lose all your refined manners ; you will become rus- 
 tic," she said. 
 
 "I shall go," I said, "and if my manners do not suit your drawing- 
 room company, I shall not give you pain by appearing in it. My 
 Master's work has to be done." 
 
 I never went to any more of her parties, though I often dined with 
 her family after that. 
 
 Health of body had been restored to me, and vigor of mind, for 
 which I thanked my heavenly Father. At the same time, the remem- 
 brance of past suffering constituted a great part of my present mental 
 suffering, and will remain with me I doubt not all through life. I 
 shall, however, draw a veil thick and deep over all. At that time my 
 pathway was dreary and lonely and trying. Yet my faith was stronger 
 and my hope brighter. The Son of God suffered, and he said, ' 'Who- 
 soever doth not take up his cross and come after me can not be my 
 disciple." Suffering and self-denial are the terms of discipleship. 
 
 I apprehended a good deal of trouble through Frank, the bad 
 man, and the good ministers, prejudicing the people for whom I 
 was working. I had run a great risk in going out to live amongst 
 such people, and why not risk more ? The children of Israel feared 
 the tall Anakims; but the Lord said to them, "Dread not, neither be 
 afraid of them. The Lord your God will go before you; he shall 
 fight for you." I believed and appropriated this promise to myself. 
 
 I called another meeting of the men to consult and conciliate them. 
 I told them I was willing to do everything for them that I could, but 
 they must try and help me, or at least not hinder me in my work. I 
 found the party divided, one for the other, against me. Smith, a 
 friend of Frank's, and the man who had turned me out of his house, 
 said: 
 
 "Who authorized you to ask Mr. L for land, or to have it sur- 
 veyed, or to appoint trustees, or to have deeds drawn up and paid for, 
 that a school-house should be built? Eh?" 
 
 The query, I said, reminded me of a little girl who was standing by 
 a brook watching a fish that was weather-bound, struggling for dear 
 life and breath on some dry stones in the middle of the stream, with 
 about a half a teaspoonful of water creeping lazily from its head down
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 447 
 
 its back, but not enough to give the prisoner hope of freedom. She 
 saw and pitied the poor fish, and her sympathy made her forget that 
 she had a clean, white apron on, and bright, shiny shoes. She forgot 
 everything but her desire to hberate the poor fish from bondage. In 
 she went, unauthorized, and picked her way as best she could till she 
 laid hold of the gentleman in limbo, and tucked him, wet face and all, 
 into her white apron. But oh, how he frightened her with his floun- 
 dering; he was so troublesome. She felt strongly inclined to throw 
 him from her. "She thought his gratitude was very much like that of 
 human beings when you do them unasked service." When she suc- 
 ceeded in dropping her prize into deep water — oh, how grateful he 
 will be now. She loved that fish because she had done him good 
 service, and she thought he would love her and be grateful in return ; 
 but he left her without thanks for the trouble she had taken to save 
 him. That fish is not singular in his ingratitude, but who will say 
 that the fish did not need help, for the want of which he must have 
 perished. 
 
 As I have already mentioned, we had a prayer-meeting on Friday 
 evenings, that is, my night scholars read the Bible and sang and 
 prayed. Oh, what a thrill of pleasure passed through my frame when 
 one of my young men knelt down and prayed for the first time, thank- 
 ing God for sending them their kind teacher who had taken such an 
 interest in them, both spiritually and temporally. This was a simple, 
 earnest prayer from the heart. This was he whom I first feared, then 
 trusted most. A great change had come over all of those young men 
 whom I had called my body-guard. They had brought their parents 
 to our Sunday morning prayer-meeting. One of the poor women 
 came to me, with tears in her eyes, and took my hand in both of hers, 
 and said : 
 
 "O Mrs. Davies, God will surely bless you for what you have done. 
 In all the twenty-five years of my married life my husband never 
 knelt down to pray till last night, and you have brought about all this 
 change." 
 
 The husband came to me, with tears in his eyes, and said : 
 
 "I hope the Lord will forgive me my great sin in making my eldest 
 son an infidel; I have been one myself. lUit I hope (\(A will have 
 mercy upon my soul." 
 
 I directed him to Christ. 
 
 On this Friday night I had all my dear young people around mc, 
 and I placed before them the difficulties that were in the way of build-
 
 448 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ing, and my plans for removing them. I told them that true, heartfelt, 
 fervent prayer was a great and powerful moral lever, that would re- 
 move mountains of difficulty. We all knelt down and prayed that 
 God would grant us success in our undertaking. I then gave each of 
 them a collecting card, with my signature, authorizing them to collect 
 as much money as they could toward building, and so sent them on 
 their mission of begging. 
 
 On the north side of Port Jackson a number of rich city merchants 
 had elegant residences. I called on a gentleman who had very large 
 possessions, which extended very near to North Sydney, but he said 
 he did not even know the name of the place nor where it was. Well, 
 to be sure it was an out-of-the-way place. This millionaire gave me 
 j£i sterling, or $5.00, to begin with. Another gentleman who knew 
 nothing about the place took my address, and said he would come and 
 see me and what I was doing. He came, he saw, and helped with a 
 liberal hand. He was a philanthropist of noble mold. Some com- 
 mon minds can not see beyond their eyes and ears; their relentless 
 purse strings can not relax. School-houses and training minds immor- 
 tal are nothing to them. But minds of noble stamp, who see the 
 image of God still lingering in fallen humanity, expand heart and 
 purse, and both are opened to help the needy. I called upon several 
 
 others who gave a little money. The Rev. Mr. C , who was op-" 
 
 posed to my working in his parish, though he never did anything for 
 the people himself, thought it strange that I should call on him to help 
 to build, when he was opposed to my doing it. 
 
 "Were I to give you money to help to build a school-house, people 
 seeing my name might give, thinking it was an Episcopal school-house 
 you are building," he said. 
 
 "I shall take care to enlighten the people as to what kind it is to be; 
 but if he had a doubt on the subject, he could write on the back of 
 the card with his own hand that it was not an Episcopal school-house." 
 
 This he did, ignoring my work as not being an appendage to his 
 church. 
 
 "As you are a lady I shall give ^1 {$5.00), but I do not approve 
 of your work." 
 
 Months passed, and I was teaching in my new school-house, when 
 
 one morning the Rev. Mr. C and his curate walked in. I was 
 
 truly glad to see them. I thought they now approved of my work and 
 had come to congratulate me. The curate asked the names of the 
 children and then went out. I told Mr. C how glad I was to see
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 449 
 
 him make this first visit, and hoped he would come and see me again 
 and take an interest in my work; it would be so encouraging were he 
 to do so. The old gentleman had walked six miles over a rough, hilly 
 road to reach the school, and I very kindly appreciated the visit. I 
 was rather nonplused when the rector said : 
 
 "Oh, Ave did not think you were at home, and we took the oppor- 
 tunity to come and see the place." 
 
 "Oh," I said, somewhat crestfallen (I did not disguise my feelings) ; 
 "so the visit was not to me. I am sorry I took up so much of your pre- 
 cious time telling you what I had done for your parishioners. I thought 
 you had become interested at last, and had come to encourage me in 
 the good work." 
 
 "No; that did not bring us here." 
 
 The curate returned, and they left. 
 
 But to return to our prayer-meetings and begging expeditions. I 
 worked hard fourteen hours every day, with but little nourishing food ; 
 but still was able to walk from eighteen to twenty miles on Saturdays, 
 and when I had collected a few pounds sterling, I set men to work. 
 Now to build a house of large dimensions, with money, or a prospect 
 of money, to pay for it in the coffers, with all the materials convenient, 
 or good roads to carry them over, and workmen at hand, would be an 
 easy matter; but having to walk so far to beg for money first; then 
 walk many miles to find a brickmaker; then as many miles in another 
 direction to find a lime burner; then as many more to the timber mer- 
 chant; then the difficulty of bringing workmen so far from the city; and 
 as we had no road, matters could not be hastened, and so the work 
 was heavy and hard. I had to walk under a broiling sun over rocks 
 and through briars and brush, encountering venomous snakes lying 
 across the track, and as I could not find my way through the forest, 
 I was always accompanied by two of my body-guard as far as the ferry, 
 and on my return two would be there to meet me to take me home. 
 They thought it fine sport to kill the snakes, and so clear my path of 
 creatures, the sight of which made me shudder. 
 
 A lettcf to a friend, that I wrote at this time, I shall transcribe. 
 
 North Sydney, March, iS6j. 
 My dear brother : Yours of last month came duly to hand. Vou say you are 
 anxious to hear of my health and prospects, and how the good work undertaken 
 by me is progressing. Well, in the first place, I have no time to think of my 
 health— my work has been too arduous for that. My prospects? I know not 
 what a day may bring forth. The good work? It goes forward as fast as weary 
 29
 
 450 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 feet can carry it, but I find the difficulties so great I sometimes think they can 
 not be surmounted ; but I also find that persevering efi'ort continued accomplishes 
 a great deal in time. My last letter told you that I had ordered material to build 
 a school-house with a teacher's residence attached, and that I had but little money 
 in hand to pay for it. I had a young friend who was an architect. According lo 
 my instructions, he drew out a plan for me. I employed the men of this place 
 to haul the bricks from where I had them made. Five hundred was a load, and 
 I paid them so much a load. I taled the bricks while they were unloading, and 
 invariably found fifty or sixty bricks lacking in every load. These the men stole 
 for their own use. This thievish propensity I dared not notice. This was un- 
 pleasant, as I felt I had begged for public money that was being put to private 
 uses. They cheated me in every way they could. I was now ready to have the 
 foundation-stone laid of the first house, pro bono publico, and it was not a drink- 
 ing house. Some one had proposed to set up a drinking shanty in opposition to 
 my school. As Mr. Sayers had been our most liberal donor, I asked him to 
 lay the corner-stone. The day appointed arrived — the most important day North 
 Sydney had ever seen. I hoped all the quarrels of this most quarrelsome people 
 would be buried under the corner-stone of their public house. 
 
 The old man, who had been an infidel, and the most intelligent man in the 
 place, wrote out a short address, thanking Mr. Sayers for coming up among them 
 to help them. It ran thus: 
 
 '' Words can not express our gratitude. The life-boat to the shipwrecked mar- 
 iner could not be hailed with a deeper sense of gratitude than is your kind as- 
 sistance at this critical moment." He went on to tell of the vicious habits of the 
 people, and those being formed by the young. " We were too far away to be 
 noticed by the kind-hearted gentlemen who were doing so much for our class in 
 their own neighborhoods ; but now we feel not so far off but that the hand of 
 help can and will reach us, and that through the instrumentality of Mrs. Davies. 
 That lady came to this place, and, seeing the condition we were in, soon saw 
 what was needed and what ought to be done. She made no more to do, but left 
 her city comforts and came to live among us in the bush, vvent to work in right 
 earnest, and bade us follow. Too much can not be said in her praise. Sparing 
 herself no labor, regarding no discouragement, nor even bending to hardships 
 which few beside herself would endure. She secured land to build on that no 
 other one could get, paid for surveying it from her own pocket, and put the law- 
 yer to work, and we have the deeds in our possession. This done, she had col- 
 lecting cards printed at her own expense, and set all her scholars to work to get 
 what they could toward the building. They could get but little, but so ably has 
 Mrs. Davies advocated our cause, she has attracted the attention of many of the 
 gentry in our behalf, who have never heard of such a place as North Sydney. 
 During all this time she has been conducting a day school and an evening class 
 for the young people of this place who had no means of improvement. This 
 has, with the blessing of God, wrought a great change. On Sunday the bat and 
 ball has been laid aside, and the player's thoughts turned to intellectual pur- 
 suits. They now pray to God to assist them to bring about a better state of 
 things; and we are greatly encouraged to do so by your presence among us to-
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AXD TEACHING IN THE BUSH. 45 I 
 
 dar, to lay the foundation-stone of a building which, while it provides us with a 
 school-house, will, we hope, be a cradle to the School of Arts, and to hear the 
 truths necessary to salvation. " Thos. Hancock. 
 
 ''March ^o, /S6j." 
 
 Madam; Please to accept a copy of the feeble effort at an address, delivered 
 on the occasion of laying the foundation-stone of our school-house. It is an 
 humble offering of our grateful thanks and respects toward you, who have done 
 so much for us. And rest assured, madam, that the children running about in 
 this infant township will pronounce your name with respect and bless you, and 
 the time you labored for them, when their parents are silent forever, and you 
 have gone to your reward. Your most respectful, humble servant. 
 
 To Mrs. Davics, North Sydney. '^"^'- Hancock. 
 
 On the twenty-fifth of July I issued cards of invitation to the open- 
 ing, as follows : 
 
 It is intended to open the new school-house at North Sydney on the 30th inst. 
 The friends, parents and children will assemble for refreshment and amusement 
 during the day, and will hold a public meeting in the evening, at six o'clock, 
 when several gentlemen are expected to address the meeting. Your attendance 
 is respectfully invited. 
 
 The following account of it was published in the Sydney Mornitig 
 Herald: 
 
 BETHANY NATIONAL SCHOOL, NORTH SYDNEY. 
 
 A tea meeting was held at this place on Thursday last, for the purpose of open- 
 ing the new school-house. After an excellent tea, to which about 150 persons 
 sat down in a rustic arbor erected for the purpose, a public meeting was held in 
 the school-room, which was beautifully decorated with leaves, ferns and flowers. 
 Mr. Sayers was voted to the chair, and briefly expressed his deep interest in the 
 object of the meeting. Mr. Palmer, who had been appointed to audit the accounts 
 for the preceding year, read a financial statement, from which it appeared that 
 subscriptions had been received and expended on building and improving prop- 
 erty, but more money was wanted to build a residence for a teacher. The meet- 
 ing was then addressed by W. Wilkins, Esq., Secretary of the National Board 
 of Education, and Mr. Gardener, Inspector of National Schools, who spole in 
 higli terms of the excellence of the school, and warmly eulogized the efHciency 
 of its instructress, Mrs. Davies. Mr. I. Moore spoke of the wilderness having 
 heen made to blossom as the rose, through the persevering, self-denying labors 
 of a la<ly. Messrs. Walker, Bradly, Parry, and others, remarked on the advan- 
 tnges M-hich the district had gained by the establishing of a school by Mrs. Davies' 
 self-denving labors. On a motion of Mr. Wilkins, a vote of thanks was accorded 
 to the Bu'h Missionaries for conducting divine service on Sundays. Thanks were 
 also accorded for the excellent tea; to Messrs. Wilkins and Gardener for their 
 interest that they had in the school, and to Mr. Sayers for presiding over the 
 meeting. After a pleasant and interesting day, it terminated at a q,uarter past 
 nine o'clock.
 
 452 THE STORY OV AN EARXIiST LIFE. 
 
 After the builders were fairly at work, I bought shingles and nails 
 on credit from strange merchants (they always trusted me) one week, 
 and the next week would beg money to pay for them. Then 1 
 bought window sashes, and doors, and hinges, and flooring. All and 
 everything I did myself, as far as buying and begging \Vere con- 
 cerned. Everything caused physical suffering; but the school-house 
 went up, and two rooms of the residence. I bought books, maps, 
 desks, benches, chairs, tables and book-press. I had a well-appointed 
 school-house, and ere I commenced work in my new domain, I invited 
 those gentlemen who had kindly helped my work with their money, to 
 come and see how I had used it. 
 
 I had called at a house to see a gentleman one day, but only saw his 
 wife. I told her my business, but she, though much interested in what 
 I told her, directed me to call on her husband at his office, which I did 
 the next week. His wife meantime had told him what I had said to 
 her, and he decided that I was an impostor, in connection with a 
 Roman priest, who had been deceiving and cheating the people in that 
 neighborhood a short time before. I saw the gentleman, and explained 
 the wants of the people, and how they could be supplied, and asked 
 him to help. He said : 
 
 **It was the most romantic idea for a lady to bury herself alive away 
 up in the bush, for no other purpose than to work for a lot of bad people. 
 It was too poetic to be real." 
 
 "Mr. B , I said, "under the broiling sun of this hot, scorching 
 
 day, I have walked already fifteen miles, and I have yet to walk 
 farther, and at this moment I neither feel romance nor poetry in the 
 exercise, but a stern reality. And it is a sad fact that those bad people 
 have children, and you sit there with cool comforts around you, and 
 laugh at one who tries to save the young by thus exposing herself to a 
 rough road and burning sun, and call her romantic, and excuse your- 
 self from helping them by pretending to think that she is an impostor. 
 You can not really think that I am. I refer you to the American and 
 ex- American Consuls," and I bowed good-day. 
 
 Next week I met Mr. W ■-, ex- American Consul. He told me 
 
 I must dine with them that day, Mrs. W had something for me. 
 
 When I saw her, she held a letter in her hand, saying, 
 
 "Something nice for you." 
 
 I read the letter with great pleasure. It was from the poetic Mr. 
 B , with a check for money, and an apology, and a pressing invi- 
 tation to dine with them, that they might the better beg ten thousand
 
 RETURN TO N. S. WALES, AND TEACHING IN " 'IE BUSH. 453 
 
 pardons. Mr. and Mrs. B became warm friends of mine, and 
 
 were ever after ready with help when money was needed. They were 
 at the opening of the school-house. 
 
 I wrote to Sir John Young, who was then Governor of New South 
 Wales, to help me with his patronage, to interest others in my work. 
 He responded by coming to see me, and see what I was doing. He 
 was accompanied by Lord Tayleur and an orderly. His Excellency 
 took quite an interest in my work, and said he would certainly help 
 me. We had quite a long conversation. He told me that I was a lady 
 in a thousand to stay here by myself, and do what he knew no other 
 lady but myself could do, and no gentleman would do. His kind 
 words greatly encouraged me. He wrote me a very kind letter, inclos- 
 ing a check, and telling me to use his name in any way I wished, if by 
 so doing the work in which I was engaged could be forwarded. His 
 permission given me to use his name greatly helped me in collecting 
 money. 
 
 Mr. I. Moore, who imported al| the books and stationary for the 
 Government Schools, had, while I had been buying my school supplies 
 from him, asked me many questions as to my location, work and other 
 matters, all of which I answered simply enough. In his speech at the 
 opening of the school, he said: 
 
 "I am a Roman Catholic. I say this, because I wish you to know 
 that. I have watched Mrs. Davies with suspicious doubts for the last 
 twelve months. I was always very much interested in what she said 
 she was doing, but I did not believe the one-half. I did not know of 
 this place at all till now, nor did I believe such a place existed. Now 
 this wilderness is converted into a flower garden." 
 
 His doubts and suspicions astonished me as much as his high praises, 
 now that my work was advancing so satisfactorily. Mr. Wilkins and 
 Mr. Gardener, men in power, when they spoke of the work done amid 
 difficulties, and spoke kindly and sympathetically of me, I fairly broke 
 
 down, and had to leave the room. I heard Mr. G say that praise 
 
 could not spoil me, I needed to be held up. I had many discourage- 
 ments. It was true I needed encouragement, and praise only kept me 
 from desponding. Had I been working to be seen and applauded of 
 men, surely my triumph would have been complete on that occasion. 
 I had much yet to do, but I was thankful that so far my labors had 
 been crowned with success. 
 
 It was at this time that Mr. C , the rector of St. Thomas, and 
 
 his curate made me a visit. They had come to see whether they could
 
 454 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 take the school-house out of my hands, that they might have the con- 
 trol of it; or if they could not get the whole of it, get a part of it railed 
 off, and consecrated for the use of the Church of England, where the 
 curate could preach. The curate went round to all the people for 
 whom I had been laboring for a year, to try to interest them in his 
 schemes. Two families, who had no children at school, promised to 
 do all they could to get it from me; they would try to influence the 
 others against me, and turn me out. Turn me out of the house that I 
 had built for them. This they could easily do, for I had no claim on 
 the premises whatever; I was not a trustee, nor had I the deeds in my 
 possession. The Church of England was arrayed against me, and I 
 stood alone. But I carried this new difficulty to Him who is all pow- 
 erful to protect, and all wise to direct. I spread my case before my 
 heavenly Father, and waited his time. Meantime, more money had 
 to be begged to finish the two rooms of the cottage, so that I could re- 
 move to them. I was at the time living in a dilapidated empty house, 
 one of my night scholars staying with me for company at night. She 
 also did my cooking, such as it was. 
 
 One day I had gone to Sydney on business. The rainy season had 
 set in, and a storm prevented my leaving the city that day. I crossed 
 the ferry on Sunday evening; the rain was then falling heavily. I had 
 not gone far till I saw the tracks leading to North Sydney converted 
 to running streams, rushing down the sides of the hills where I had to 
 climb. Not seeing any tracks, I several times stumbled into deep ruts 
 over my knees in water, where it had been washed, and I had to hold 
 to the bushes to keep from being swept away by the torrent. The 
 great forest trees were bending low over my head, blown about by the 
 fury of the wind. I expected every moment to be felled to the earth 
 by the falling branches. Weary and heavy laden, with my wet clothes, 
 I reached my resting-place, where I expected to find food and a fire, 
 but found neither. My bed-room floor was covered with water, and 
 the young woman did not take the trouble to sweep it out or dry it. I 
 hung my dripping clothes on a chair, lay down upon a damp bed, and 
 in the morning got up, put on my wet garments — I had no others con- 
 venient — and stood teaching in them all day. 
 
 I had been in five different lodging-places, each worse than the other, 
 in the first year of my sojourn at North Sydney.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 
 
 I MOVED into the two unfinished rooms of the cottage before the plas- 
 tering was dry. They were also unfurnished. I had been interested 
 in learning the ways of the people at their different houses, but I was 
 glad to have a shelter of my own. I could be more useful to the peo- 
 ple now, when under my own roof. 
 
 I have had enough of bitter in my cup, to feel assured that God did 
 not intend to let me live a life of ease, or taste much of pleasure. If 
 he who made me, and who knew how weak I was, would only fit and 
 strengthen me for my work, let my cup be sweet or bitter, it did not 
 matter, if it was mixed with God's unchanging love. If the unseen 
 hand, that had upheld me and led me, continued to support me, the 
 desert path would be easier to tread. I thought, if ever I got to 
 heaven, I should have much to be thankful for. Saved from my own 
 rebellious nature, from Satan and from the world. 
 
 I had had a Government Inspector to visit and examine my school, 
 who said he was well pleased at the manner in which it was conducted. 
 He asked me if I would become a national school teacher. He said 
 the people could not, would not, pay me, and the Government was 
 willing to pay a competent teacher. 
 
 "And the manner in which you are working and conducting a school 
 is worthy of more than mere praise. The Government will pay you if 
 you will do its work. 
 
 Mr. Gardener's argument was good, but without a moment's hesita- 
 tion I refused a government salary, for the reason I believed all the 
 officers of the Board of Education were infidels, and they ignored the 
 Bible in schools, and I could not get along without it. I said, if the 
 people would let me alone till I finished the school-house, then a 
 teacher's residence, where a respectable teacher and his wife could 
 live, then they might put in a National or Denominational teacher. I 
 
 told Mr. G that I had refused the offer of a good salary from the 
 
 Episcopal Church because I could not conscientiously teach their 
 creed or catechism; now I again refused a salary because I could not 
 
 (455)
 
 456 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 give up the Bible. He heard all that I had to say, then told me I 
 need have no fear of the National Board taking the Bible fr^m me, 
 who knew how to make the proper use of it. He said the Board of 
 National Education was composed of Christian gentlemen, members 
 of different churches. I told him he took some trouble to soften my 
 prejudices. 
 
 "Yes, but it is worth the trouble." 
 
 I was so pleased with this gentleman's conciliatory manner that I 
 consented to visit the office of the Board of Education. I went, I 
 saw, and I was conquered; my prejudices faded away entirely. 
 Their books were all just what I had been using. The manner in 
 which I had been teaching the Bible, its broad principles of Chris- 
 tianity, and not narrow Sectarianism, was highly approved. The 
 gentleman all, but especially the Secretary of the Board, Mr. Wilkins, 
 were courteous in the extreme. I learned their system of keeping the 
 registers and records, and filling in their returns, and all extra work, 
 and willingly enrolled myself as a teacher under the National Board. 
 From the day Mr. Gardener visited my school the government allowed 
 me a salary. The Rev. Dean, of Sydney, had said to me : 
 
 "You can not live on mosquitoes." 
 
 "No; but with the Bible in my hand and the strength of God in 
 my heart I shall work for him and trust him for bread," I said. 
 
 He was now providing the means by which I could buy bread. He 
 had shown me this token for good. The Lord had surely helped me 
 and comforted me. Mr. Wilkins and Mr. Gardener knew the oppo- 
 sition that I had to contend with, and they generally held up my hands 
 and encouraged me, hence the compliment they paid my school by 
 coming to the opening of the new house. 
 
 One morning as I stood before a boy's class with the Bible in my 
 hand, I noticed two who were not quite at their ease. One had a 
 meek, quiet, external appearance, but had a provoking, teasing spirit; 
 he had a swollen face, and one eye black and closed. The other, 
 with his fiery hair and his fierce passions all aglow in his face, had 
 quite a defiant air in his manner. I knew from their appearance that 
 they had been fighting. I loved my boys dearly every one, but they 
 were the veriest young scamps imaginable. I wished to inspire these 
 boys with right principles, which would teach them true bravery. I told 
 them it was more brave to bear a wrong than to retaliate, and the 
 most true and brave spirit was the one who could return good for evil. 
 One of the young belligerents held up his hand; he wished to speak.
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE, 457 
 
 "Please ma'am," he began, "did you not tell us that the Bible said 
 we were to obey our parents?" 
 
 "Yes, I have taught you to obey your parents." 
 
 "Well, my mother told me that if any one hit me I was to knock 
 him down if I could ; so Johnnie hit me because I took his composition 
 from him, and I just bunged up his eye and knocked him down as 
 mother told me." 
 
 I was a little amused at the ready obedience of children to do wrong. 
 I was reminded of Satan quoting the Scriptures to Christ. 
 
 "Suppose your mother had told you to steal money from a store in 
 town, would you do it because your mother told you ?" 
 
 "Oh, no," said he; "for that would be against the law, and they 
 would punish me." 
 
 "You say the Bible tells you to obey your parents." 
 
 The boy looked thoughtful. The class was interested and attentive, 
 while I told them they were to obey their parents only in the Lord; 
 and if their parents told them to fight or steal, the Lord said, "Thou 
 shalt not steal;" and he taught that we were to return good for evil, 
 and not evil for evil ; not to strike back because one struck us. This 
 is the Lord's law, and if you break it he will punish you. 
 
 "Who of you are willing to be called the children of God?" 
 
 Up went all hands. 
 
 "Then you must try and keep God's law in everything." 
 
 On one occasion Mr. Gardener came to inspect the school, and for the 
 time being I gave it up to him, and while he was inspecting the boy's 
 class I was at the other end of the room. He came to me, slate in 
 hand, and asked me, in rather a stern tone, if that was the way I 
 taught arithmetic. 
 
 "That figure ought to be five and it is six; the boys must have 
 copied one of another, for they are all alike." 
 
 "Well," I said, "if they have done wrong, ask them and they will 
 acknowledge it." 
 
 "Do you mean to say they will tell me if they had copied their 
 sums?" 
 
 "Yes, you may depend on them." 
 
 With a smile on his face, he said: "Well, madam, they have al- 
 ready told me, and they do your teaching honor, as you by your teach- 
 ing honor God. I am better pleased at hearing this lesson than if I 
 had heard all the sums in the book. These will l>e the men by and 
 by, true and trustworthy, who will honor the laws of God and man;
 
 4S8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 who will be the bulwark of their countiy, an honor and a blessing." 
 
 Turning to the boys, he said: "You have had the moral courage to 
 tell the truth against yourselves. I am greatly pleased with you for 
 this, but I give your teacher the credit of training your minds to think 
 right. Obey her, honor her, and you will do well. I have examined 
 many schools, but this is the first class in which I have found a teacher 
 have implicit faith in its truthfulness." 
 
 I now turned to the boys, and told them to redeem themselves from 
 the disgrace of what they had done, by doing their work, and -show 
 that their own was better than a copy. This they did, and they ac- 
 quitted themselves splendidly. 
 
 Mr. G told me that I must give up my night class for a time. 
 
 I was not able to do so much as I was doing, and my government 
 writing would take up a great part of my spare time. I gave it up, 
 but found myself very lonesome from 4 o'clock P. M. to 9 o'clock 
 A. M. True, I slept part of the time, but I had no one to talk to in 
 the evenings. 
 
 I procured respectable situations for most of my night scholars, and 
 they gave general satisfaction. They always came to their homes on 
 Saturday nights, and were ready for their Sunday-school duties next 
 day. 
 
 The school-house was dotted down in the midst of a great forest of 
 eucalypti, without fence of any kind. A spot large enough to build 
 the house on was cleared, that was all. One night I was kept awake 
 all night by loud breathing just against my bed-head outside. My 
 heart almost stood still with an undefined feeling. As soon as day- 
 light came, I rose and went to the door, opened it on the wild bush, 
 and was going cautiouly to look for the sleeping-place of the person 
 who kept me awake, when lo ! a cow presented her head, horns and 
 all, for admittance. I slammed the door in her face with a startled cry, 
 and sat down and laughed at my idle fears — only a cow to keep me 
 uncomfortable all night. I asked God to give me more courage. 
 
 One Monday morning, in answer to a loud knock at my front door, 
 I opened it and saw two well-dressed men, strangers to me. They 
 asked me if I had seen a strange man up here the day before. I said 
 I had seen no stranger at the public worship in the school-house. 
 One of the men said: 
 
 "Oh, he would not likely be at church." 
 
 "Then I could see him nowhere else, for I have not been off the 
 premises. Was he well dressed?" I asked.
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 459 
 
 "No, he was not well dressed," was the curt reply. 
 
 "Was he a respectable man?" I again asked. 
 
 "No, he was not a respectable man." 
 
 "Well, was he a bad man?" I again asked. 
 
 "Yes, he was a bad man." 
 
 "Was he a very bad man?" 
 
 "Yes, he was a very bad man." 
 
 I was becoming excited at this man's manner, and I said : 
 
 "Perhaps you are looking for him because he is bad." 
 
 "Yes, we are looking for him because he is bad, and he opened his 
 jacket a little, and I saw that he was armed to the teeth." 
 
 I shuddered; then the silent man came forward, and said: 
 
 "I see, madam, that you are alarmed, and we had better tell you 
 that we are detectives, and on the track of a murderer who has been 
 traced to that house," pointing to a house a few yards below the school- 
 house, but hidden by the trees, "and he is not far from here now." 
 
 "Ohl" I gasped," do you think he will come here?" 
 
 "He might come for food or water." 
 
 They left me with a perturbed spirit. I shut my door and went to 
 my knees, for I was in trouble. A murderer prowling around my 
 cottage door, and I alone! "O Father, protect me." "Thou wilt 
 keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee." 
 
 The blood-stained man had been at my back door listening to the 
 armed detectives speaking to me at my front door. How long he had 
 been there who can tell ? He left his hiding-place, and went up the 
 road and was overtaken. He was disguised, and he pretended to be 
 a workman of the place, and so escaped for the time. In a short time 
 the hue and cry was, 
 
 "Catch the murderer." 
 
 But he had the start of them. He reached the rocks near the 
 sea where the horses could not follow him ; he took to the water, 
 and reached Sydney, but was caught three weeks after, tried, con- 
 demned and hung for his crime. I was greatly relieved when 1 heard 
 of the execution, for since he had been so near my lonely cottage 
 once, I feared he might come again, but my fears were now buried in 
 his grave. 
 
 Mr. Wilkins in a laughing way asked me one day where I bought 
 my sugar and tea. 
 
 "I bought them at Sydney." 
 
 "How do you convey it to your house?"
 
 460 THK STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I said I carried all my provisions, and when loaded with a week's 
 store, I walked seven miles uphill in the rain, sometimes up to my 
 knees in water, and sometimes under a broiling sun. I found it hard 
 work, and sometimes my supply would be exhausted ere I could renew 
 it, and often I would not have food for two days; but I worked hard, 
 and forgot my wants. 
 
 At North Sydney, as at Illawarra, we had fearful thunder storms. 
 Running north and south is a belt of ironstone, on which were built 
 several houses miles apart. The school-house is on this belt. In one 
 house a lady was killed with lightning one year; the next year another 
 lady was killed in the same way in another house. Living entirely 
 alone on a line v/ith those houses, I thought my time to be killed would 
 surely come. I did not give way to idle fears, but I took every pre- 
 caution that I could to save myself. After sundown one evening, one 
 of these terrific storms burst overhead. I covered everything that I 
 thought would attract the lightning. I covered the windows with dark 
 thick quilts, put my light out, and sat down on a chair a la Turc in 
 the middle of the room, shut my eyes, and there waited my doom. 
 The whole interior of the house would be lighted up with a fierce blue 
 flame, and at every crash I thought the house was gone. At those aw- 
 ful moments I felt very near to God, as he spoke to me in thunder 
 tones, as I also felt in the lone hour of night, when he spoke to me in 
 whispers. I heard him in the sighing wind, the rustling leaf, and the 
 murmuring sea. I was still, for I knew that I was under the shadow 
 of his wings. My exposed helpless condition compelled me to trust in 
 God at all times, for in him only was safety. He who purifies the heart 
 through suffering lends strength to the sufferer. 
 
 A few little children came into the school-room one morning, and 
 sat down very quietly. I was writing. I heard a dull, heavy flop 
 on the floor. I looked round, and to my horror I saw a monstrous 
 black snake, that had come up from under the floor, through between 
 shrunken boards and the wall, and was slowly wriggling along toward 
 the children. I called to them to run out of the room, and so they did 
 in a hurry when they saw the ugly reptile. He stretched himself out 
 at full length along the wall opposite to me. We watched each other 
 for some time. I was afraid to move, till some of the larger boys came, 
 and gave battle with sticks to his snakeship; but he took refuge under 
 the floor again. As the children came in, I had them all to sit on the 
 desks with their feet on the benches, to prevent the snake biting any 
 of them, as the boards were so open he could crawl out and in at will.
 
 THE XEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 46 1 
 
 Some of my young scamps made me jump once or twice, by calling out, 
 
 "The snake is under you, ma'am." 
 
 The mischievous youngsters would enjoy my tremor. I had to stop 
 my work at last to talk to them. I told them that I had a great dread 
 of snakes; that I had put them (the children) all on a place of safety, 
 and as I had to stand or walk on the floor, I alone was in any danger ; 
 so I hoped they would watch for the snake, and tel\ me if they really 
 saw him, but not to frighten me unnecessarily. This they promised to 
 do, and I had no more alarms that day. After I dismissed school, I 
 retained four of the largest boys,' and said: 
 
 "Boys, this is Friday, and you will not be here till Sunday, and I 
 am afraid to be here alone with that great ugly snake under the floor. 
 Let us take up the boards, and find him, and kill him." 
 
 No sooner said than to work they went, tore up the boards, and they 
 saw a great glittering coil in a corner, that they battered with sticks, 
 shovel and poker, hauled him out, dragged him to a pyre, and burned 
 him. I thanked my young protectors, and sent them home happy. 
 I had several snakes to trouble me, as the uncleared forest all round 
 was infested with these reptiles. One day I saw my cat eating 
 one. First he had bitten the head and a piece of the neck off", and 
 that lay apart, and he was enjoying his meal, when I had a boy take 
 and burn the reptile. Another time, I was coming home from the city, 
 when I saw my cat outside give a great leap, and fall down, and stretch 
 himself out. I ran to see what was the matter, when I saw in front of 
 me a large coil, from which rose a head with forked tongue just as I 
 was about to step on it. I started in terror, and called to two men, 
 who were passing at the time, to come and kill the snake. It had been 
 disabled by the cat, but pussy had received a fatal bite and died. 
 Another time, I was standing at my back door, when tabby, who was 
 basking in the sun a few feet from me, all at once bristled up, and 
 made a great fuss, and sidled toward the fence, still looking toward the 
 house; he then turned the corner of the house, keeping at a distance 
 from it. I went over to him to see what he was spitting so spitefully 
 at, and to my horror and disgust I saw a monstrous black snake, the 
 largest I had yet seen, slowly crawling along the wall of the school- 
 room toward the door. In my terror I ran in through the school-room 
 just as his snakeship was about to find entrance at the front door. The 
 hideous creature reared itself up, and darted its forked tongue at my 
 face. As quick as thought I drew back, and threw a hatchet at him, 
 that I had in my hand, which flew wide of the mark. He turned, and
 
 462 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 went back the way he came. I ran back through the house to the back 
 door, where I saw him twine himself around a long rail of a fence, and 
 lie sunning himself, and there I stood watching him for three long 
 hours, till I heard a cart go past, and I called the man to come and 
 kill the reptile. But he was too large to attack single-handed, so he 
 went foi two other men and a gun, and they had great difficulty in kill- 
 ing the monster. Thus was I kept in constant dread by these ven- 
 omous creatures 
 
 Among my other duties, I had been called upon to cure the sick, I 
 had evei been ready to nurse the sick, but had no pretension to the heal- 
 ing art. One of my boys took sick; I went to see him, and found him 
 in a high fever, on a dirty bed, in a close room. The poor little fellow 
 looked to me for help, and I went to work and wrapped him up in a 
 wet sheet, and sat by him, for the family seemed horrified at what I 
 did. I told them to let fresh air into the room, and bring me a tub of 
 clean cold water, and when it was time to take the half-baked boy out 
 of the sheet, I plunged him into the cold water, gave him a good scrub- 
 bing, and put clean clothes on him. He was relieved at once, and 
 got well very soon. My fame went abroad, and all came to me to heal 
 their sick. I was kept busy every spare hour from my school duties, 
 to prescribe for sickness, brought on by dirt and over-eating. Cleansing 
 and dieting were my prescriptions. Thus far and no farther could I, 
 or did I, go. When there was a serious case, I sent them to the doctor. 
 
 On an Easter Monday we were decorating our large school-room 
 with flowers. Celia Smith (whose father had turned me out of doors) 
 was helping, herself as fair as any lily. She was a sweet, pretty girl, 
 though she had such wicked parents, who set her an evil example. 
 She had become seriously inclined, and attended Sunday-school and 
 prayer-meetings regularly. She had been a night scholar, but was now 
 a day scholar, and tried to be a good girl. I was about to give my 
 scholars a party, and Celia was full of young, happy Hfe. Her mother, 
 who, she thought, was not prepared to die, had just escaped from the 
 jaws of death, and she was glad. Beautiful fresh floAvers surrounded 
 her, and the room was brilliant. That day week the brilliance of the 
 flowers had gone; they hung withered and dead against the wall; but 
 we were again in the midst of fresh flowers. The most brilliant of the 
 flowers of a week ago lay withered and dead in her coffin, and the 
 fresh flowers were to deck her grave. Celia was dead. 
 
 Sickness entered the home of Smith, and he lost three children in 
 one week; Cefia, the eldest, seventeen and a half years old, one about
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 463 
 
 six years, and a baby. I went to them in their trouble, and asked 
 if they would accept my help to nurse their sick. They were so 
 quarrelsome and abusive to their neighbors, that no one cared if 
 tliey all died, so no one went near them to help them in their 
 need. To be sure the neighbors were afraid of diphtheria. I 
 had no fear for myself, and they seemed glad to accept my ser- 
 vices. The poor suffering Celia did not long survive after her at- 
 tack. Her death-bed was very affecting. She begged her father to 
 be a better man, and set a good example to her brothers and sis- 
 ters, to attend the prayer-meetings and public service, all which he 
 jjromised to do. While the undertaker was busy at the house with 
 coffin and corpse, I had all the children and young people assembled in 
 the school-room, ready to join in the procession. All who could dressed, 
 as I did, in white, and all carried flowers. While waiting, I exhorted 
 them all so to live, that when called upon at any time, they might be 
 ready to obey the summons. They were all deeply affected. The 
 cart came rumbling along, on which lay the coffin that held the beau- 
 tiful casket of the jewel that a week ago had shone so bright among 
 her schoolmates. We had a long six miles' walk to the cemetery. Her 
 schoolmates, my young men, were her pall-bearers; they carried her 
 gently, and laid her low, and left her there till the last trump shall 
 awake her. On the following Sunday, the whole family for the first 
 time were at public worship. The mother soon tired of coming to the 
 preaching, but Smith was regular in his attendance, and also at the 
 prayer-meetings, and prayed most earnestly for blessings upon the head 
 of the good governess; prayed that the Lord would smooth her rugged 
 path, and make powerless her enemies, for she had many in the place. 
 "God help her in her work, for it is a glorious one. Give her strength 
 to overcome every difficulty." And finally he thanked the Lord for 
 sending so kind and good a governess to them in this out of the way 
 place. This man, since he had turned me out of doors without a 
 shelter, had been the worst enemy I had in the place. He was a liar, 
 and had tried to do me injury in every way. 
 
 Nothing daunted, however, I went on in God's strength to work, 
 hoping in time to accomplish some good. I wrote a letter to this man, 
 and told him I had forgiven him all the evil he had done to me in the 
 time past. I told him, however, how hateful in the sight of Clod was 
 a liar, a defamer and a blasphemer, all of which he was, and more. 
 Oh, he was a fearful wicked man. He acknowledged all his sinsj 
 said he was sorry for what he had done, or tried to do, to me, and he
 
 464 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE, 
 
 could never forget my kindness to his dying children. To show this 
 man that I believed in his repentance and forgave him sincerely, I 
 employed him to do some fencing ; and as usual had to walk many 
 miles to beg for money to pay for it. I returned him all the good I 
 could for the evil he had done me, and so the work went on for six 
 months. I paid him well for his work as soon as it was done. At the 
 prayer-meetings, when he prayed for me, he often disgusted me by 
 the fulsomeness of his flattery, but believing the man sincere, I bore 
 with it, though I was tired hearing my own praises so oft repeated. 
 
 Smith had been to an election one day, and came from it to prayer- 
 meeting. He was called on to pray, and he broke out in a most up- 
 roarious manner, to pray for the prosperity of the school in a general 
 way; and when he rose from his knees he turned to me and shook his 
 clenched fist in my face close to it, and swore that he would destroy 
 me, and he hoped that his right arm might rot out from his shoulder if 
 he did not do it, and he would root me out with it. First he said he 
 would blast my reputation, but he would do it in a way that the law 
 could not take hold of him. Then all the children would be with- 
 drawn from school, then my government salary would be withdrawn. 
 Here he breathed out the most horrid curses, so that I had to put my 
 hands over my ears. I was frightened at his blasphemy. He then 
 laughed a most fiendish laugh, exulting in the great evil that he ex- 
 pected to do me, and swore he would compass it. 
 
 "Then Mr. Clarke can get a Church-of-England teacher and put in 
 your place, and the school and all that belongs to it will then be turned 
 over to the Church of England." 
 
 He said, stretching out his arm before me : "Do not put your, trust 
 in an arm of flesh, for this one is bound to work your ruin; it will 
 utterly destroy you." 
 
 Words fail to convey an idea of what I felt. My feelings bafiled 
 description. I could not realize, as I sat motionless, that the same 
 man who prayed so loudly a few minutes ago was uttering such deep 
 curses now; but it was the same voice. I was amazed and shocked 
 at his profanity. I was tcrriiied at his horrid gestures. Had he had 
 ochre on his skin instead of a blue shirt, he would have been taken 
 for a painted savage. The women left the meeting. A few young 
 men remained, and asked the vile man what he meant by such con- 
 duct at a prayer-meeting ? Had he not confessed that he had been 
 very wicked, and professed to be a changed man ? Had he not been 
 welcomed to the prayer-meeting, and been kindly treated by the mis-
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 465 
 
 tress, and was this the return for so much ? Was his religion put on 
 for a cloak?" 
 
 "Yes," said Smith, "I put on the cloak, for without it I could not 
 get at her," pointing at me. 
 
 "So," said a young man, "you put on sheep's clothing that you 
 might destroy some of the flock." 
 
 "Yes," he said; "and I have sworn to do it. I know how." 
 
 With a violent gesture, as if throwing off a garment, he said : 
 
 "I am tired vrearing the cloak; I now cast it off and shall keep it 
 off. My wife did not want me to put on the cloak, but I wanted her 
 rooted out of the community," pointing to me. 
 
 "The plot is laid, and we'll do it." 
 
 And he jumped about and clapped his hands like a maniac in fiend- 
 ish glee. I was so alarmed that I grew cold as marble, and nearly as 
 rigid; for I thought the man had gone mad. He was forbidden to 
 come to their prayer-meetings any more. He laid bare his plot for 
 my destruction ; it was a deep, dark, diabolical plot. 
 
 After they all left the school-room, I was in great fear, and stag- 
 gering to the door locked it, and sank down on a bench, and cried : 
 
 "Who next, and what next?" 
 
 I wrung my hands in terror. I was alone in that dreary place, and 
 in the vicinity of a wild, wicked man. I forgot in my terror for the 
 moment that the Lord was my shield; that though a bad man was 
 plotting against me, and gnashing upon me with his teeth, I could trust 
 the I>ord and he would bring it all right. "Fear not, for I am with 
 thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee : yea, 
 I will help thee. The oppressor will do no wrong to the stranger, 
 the fatherless, nor the widow." Oh, the lonesome feelings that took 
 possession of the stranger that night; not because I was alone, but 
 because of my surroundings. 
 
 "It is not good for man to be alone;" so spoke the author of our 
 being. He knows our frame; how weak it is. Our dear Lord knew 
 how to arrange according to the full necessities of human nature. 
 When he wished to extend his own kingdom, he sent out two and two 
 of his disciples, that the deficiency of the one might be supplied by 
 the efficiency of the other. Hence we have Peter the bold, impulsive- 
 hearted, with the gentle, loving-hearted John. We read of the apos- 
 tles being in pairs — Simon and Andrew, James and John. I had 
 fully realized since I went to that place that it was not good for a 
 30
 
 466 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 woman to live alone, the contending elements were so many and so 
 varied. Were I a Romanist, I would take great credit for my work 
 done here ; but the feeling of weakness, inefficiency and lonesomeness 
 was so great, that it unfitted me for taking credit for any work done ; 
 it utterly deprived me of a single work of my own on which to rest my 
 heart or thoughts. It was a power beyond my own that worked in 
 me and by me, to will and to do of His good pleasure. 
 
 After the eventful prayer-meeting, I was greatly depressed. I knew 
 that the Lord had permitted that horrid man to speak and act as he 
 did for some wise purpose; but I could not see it. I did not now fear 
 the man. But the burden of my prayer was, to take away the feel- 
 ing of intolerable lonesomeness and give me strength to struggle with 
 the difficulties that lay in my pathway. The people did not seem to 
 support or sympathize with me, and for a time the children were not 
 regular in their attendance at school. I thought Smith's machinations 
 might be at work, and the Lord was taking this way to bring my work 
 to a close. I thought if the Lord was against me I would cease to 
 strive for the mastery. Again, I would think the Lord has been good 
 and gracious to me hitherto, giving me courage and strength to over- 
 come great obstacles; surely he will not forsake me now I thought. 
 Then I would go to him for a supply of what I needed. I called a 
 meeting of the patrons of the school. It was the first time they ever 
 met. Their duty was to meet once a month. I demanded as a right 
 that they should record my conduct, the manner in which the school 
 was conducted, and see to it, that it was conducted according to the 
 rules laid down by the Queen's commissioners. These people were 
 ignorant, and thought I wanted flattery; and if that was what I wanted 
 they gave me enough ; but I told them it was protection not praise I 
 wanted. Had I given way to my disgusted, discouraged feelings, I 
 should have left at that time. I went to the Lord as usual to tell my 
 troubles; I had no one else to go to. The Board of National Educa- 
 tion gave me more work to do every quarter. My work was not yet 
 done at North Sydney. I had daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, 
 yearly reports to fill in, besides rolls, registers and records, and my 
 school work from 9 A. M. to 4 P. M., and the building and fencing 
 were not fmished, nor the money begged to pay for the work. No, 
 my work was not done at North Sydney, but I had no help from the 
 indifferent ones, and great trouble from the wicked ones. My life was 
 dreary, very -dreary. I had to take all my long walks alone now, as 
 .my night scholars were all in good situations at a distance.
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 467 
 
 A friend wrote to nie a few words of great encouragement, at least I 
 took heart from them. He said : 
 
 "I wish there were more such schools as yours in the distant parts 
 of the colony; there would be fewer bushrangers" (highway robbers). 
 
 I hope and believe and work for this, that the children of my school 
 shall be good and useful in the future ; that respectable and responsi- 
 ble situations may be filled by them honorably, and not prisons and 
 pauper-houses. 
 
 Another year had rolled round, and the Inspector-in-Chief was in- 
 specting my school again. I knew not his programme, but the exam- 
 ination was most rigid ; the result highly satisfactory. Mr. Gardener 
 said: 
 
 "The standard the National Board has for these schools is very 
 high ; but your school has come up to it and passed it in every respect. 
 Go on in the same course." 
 
 This was more encouragement from a first-class educator and a 
 Christian gentleman. I had an official document from headquarters 
 soon after this examination. 
 
 National Educational Office, Sydney, May, 1865. 
 Madam : — I have the honor, by the direction of the Board of National Edu- 
 cation, to acquaint you that, on the recommendation of the senior inspector, 
 
 they have advanced you from the rank of to , the increased salary to 
 
 take effect from first of June proximo. 
 
 I have the honor to be, madam, your most obedient servant, 
 
 W. WiLKiNS, Secretary. 
 
 Here was more encouragement and appreciation of my work. God 
 was strengthening the weak, and holding up the feeble. After this 
 examination, children from a great distance were sent to school. The 
 Board wished to remove me to a better location, but knew of no one 
 who would or could take my place. As His Excellency had said, so 
 said they: "No lady could, and no gentleman would." I told Mr. 
 G that the work on the premises was not finished yet. 
 
 "It would be a pity to take you away from where you have been so 
 eminently useful, where you have evidently done so much good. I 
 have walched your career for the last two years. I thought at first that 
 you attenjpted too much, but you have gone beyond our expectations." 
 
 This wos a buoy to my sinking spirits. The Father was having pity 
 on his chiUl. I had been cast down, but not destroyed. I knew my 
 young rouglis were improving, and they loved me dearly, and I was 
 grateful to Mr. G for his appreciation of their moral and intellect-
 
 468 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ual training. He had seen that I was powerless even with children 
 without the Bible. 
 
 I had no trouble in buying timber on credit, to build two more 
 rooms to the cottage, nor difficulty in begging for money to pay 
 for it, and to put up the building. My only difficulty was in the 
 long, hot, rough roads I had to travel over, and not being made 
 of iron, I was often very weary. The work wore and tore my sys- 
 tem greatly. Letters from American friends said, they did not think 
 that God intended me to stay alone in that place without friends or 
 associates. I thought God had placed me in trying circumstances to 
 prove me. I dared not to take God to account for having placed me 
 where I had volunteered to go, to perform my vows to Him. I only 
 wished to do my duty. It was difficult to procure the necessaries of 
 life; I often had to go hungry for want of them, consequently my out- 
 lays were not great. I never had been provident, never having made 
 money an object where work was to be done; but I had been taught 
 some hard lessons by experience, that I hoped not soon to forget. The 
 money that could not procure me bread was religiously put on one side 
 for the Orphan School at Midway, Kentucky, and for Bethany College, 
 West Virginia, and the interest of this might buy me bread when I 
 could no longer work for it. I had a great shrinking from the idea of 
 being dependent on others in my old age. The Lord was helping me 
 to provide for that time. 
 
 The workmen had made litter and confusion about me, and one holi- 
 day, instead of joining a large picnic down the harbor, 1 stayed at home 
 to do a little domestic work. I was startled by a loud knocking at the 
 door. When I opened it, I was astonished to see my poetic friend, 
 smiling and bowing, and an elegant carriage at the gate, with his wife 
 and her brother and his wife. My pride had to bend to my circum- 
 stances. I went out and spoke to the ladies, and apologized for not 
 asking them to alight, as the cottage was in disorder, and their visit so 
 unexpected, that I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the elegant 
 carriage. 
 
 "Oh," said Mr. B , "you can not expect to be buried alive any 
 
 longer. You are becoming known, and you may expect visitors often 
 after this." 
 
 The road to the ferry had been made wider, and improvements were 
 going on all around, slowly but steadily. 
 
 In answer to a letter, I read to my children from the Harbinger ^ 
 they wished me to write for them to the same, which I did.
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 469 
 
 LETTER TO LITTLE ONES. 
 
 To the dear little ones who love to read the "Harbinger,'' at Bethany ^ Brooke County, 
 
 West Virginia, U. S. A. 
 
 My dear little friends : It makes my heart happy to know that you have a kind 
 Uncle Phil, who tries to write nice letters that will please you. It is very kind 
 of him, but he is only doing his duty — doing what Jesus would have him do, for 
 Jesus loves little children and wishes to make them happy. I shall tell you of a 
 Sunday-school we have here in Australia, right opposite to where you are — only 
 the earth lies between us. Our feet point to your feet, our summer is your win- 
 ter, and our day your night. A great many other things beside the seasons are 
 contrary here to what you have in America. But it is our Sunday school I wish 
 to write about just now. « « » Here is a wild-bush place, where you can 
 not see the houses or huts till you are close to th^m — the scrub is so thick — not 
 far from Sydney, the large wealthy metropolis of ,New South Wales. A short 
 time ago a foot-path led winding up to it, a^nd strangers could not find it, so out 
 of the way and out of sight was it; and people who lived but a few miles from 
 it knew nothing about it. Well, in the huts which dotted this forest land were 
 little children just like you, only they had no Uncle Phils to write to them, they 
 had no school, no teacher, no meeting-house, no minister. Now we have a wide 
 road all the way from the shore of Port Jackson to this spot; and the first thing 
 you see, as you come near where the houses are, is our large brick school-house. 
 As it is high itself, and stands on high ground, it is seen through the trees ere 
 you reach it. About forty children, clean and neatly dressed, attend Sunday- 
 school. A superintendent comes out from Sydney every week. We have teach- 
 ers from the day-school. (We have a large day-school.) These teachers, and the 
 scholars, made the superintendent a present of a handsome writing-desk, well 
 filled, a short time ago. They were puzzled what to buy for him till I helped 
 them to decide. I made the purchase for them, and had a meeting one night 
 and invited the superintendent to come out to it, and the desk was, with a very 
 pretty address, presented to him. And how happy it made the children to give 
 this present, and he to receive it! We were all happy and pleased. 
 
 When I read to my children about the Bethany children being missionaries 
 
 because they went out and brought others to school; how little Jamie D , 
 
 had brought the big barefooted boy to school, who afterward became a 
 preacher, they were puzzled, for we had no Jamie D at our school. I ex- 
 plained that the Bethany School of which I spoke was in America, and that I 
 had named our school after it. They were delighted with the Bethany children, 
 and all promised to follow their example. Now, my dear children, go on to do 
 good, and be good, for your example may be felt in this faraway place. Fare- 
 well! God bless you all, prays the children's friend, E. D. 
 
 Bethany School, North .Sydney, New South Wales, iSth Sept., 186$. 
 
 I received the following letter from America : 
 
 Bethany, West Virginia, /jt/i Januaty, 1866. 
 My dear Sister Davies: Yours of l8th September arrived here safely, with a 
 draft for £ , which I credit to you, and all business items in your letter shall
 
 47© THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 be duly attended to. I thank you for your very kind interest in our affairs. I 
 recognize in your co-operation the sisterly spirit of our holy religion. I have 
 watched with kindest sympathy your noble struggle in behalf of the Master's 
 cause in your far-off home. Our young bodies will be pleased at your affectionate 
 interest in their welfare. You will have seen it in the Harbinger ere this reaches 
 you. * * * All well and send love to you. Very truly yours, 
 
 W. K. Pendleton. 
 
 I must here record a pleasing incident that occurred about this time. 
 A young Avoman, who had been a night scholar formerly, had come 
 to spend a day with me, and to ask that I take her into the day 
 school; she wanted more instruction. I was ready and willing to for- 
 ward her interests in every way possible. This day I happened to have 
 no bread. I sent to some of the houses to buy or borrow a loaf, but 
 no one could spare any; it was the first time I had ever asked for 
 bread from the people. Well, we made up our minds to do without 
 bread for that time. Just then four or five pupils, who had come from 
 a long distance, bringing their lunch with them, presented themselves 
 at the door, each with a piece of bread in their hand, saying, 
 
 "Please, ma'am, here is some bread." 
 
 They knew I could not get bread, and they offered me part of their 
 own dinners. I told them that I could not think of taking their lunch 
 from them, but I thanked them for their kindness. 
 
 "We want no more." 
 
 It was evident that to refuse these children's voluntary gift would 
 hurt their feelings. I have great respect for children's feehngs; so I 
 gratified their generous impulse by accepting the bread, and so was 
 fed by the crumbs left from a few wild bush children's lunch. I never 
 partook of a richer repast. It was seasoned with the reflection that 
 these formerly bad children were receiving good seed into good and 
 honest hearts. The weeds were being rooted out, and I was pleased to 
 see the unexpected kindness shown. 
 
 I had employed some men in the neighborhood to build two frame 
 rooms to the cottage, and finish fencing, and do up all the jobs that 
 were now to be done on the property that was all their own. I paid 
 them well for all they did, and I took receipts from them for all the 
 money paid them. They told me I was too particular; that I need 
 not take receipts from them. I thought differently; I did not like to 
 trust them. I owed the timber merchants a little money, but they 
 were willing to wait till the end of the year. This was November, 
 and I planned for a grand tea party, at which all who had an
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE, 47 1 
 
 interest in the improvement of the place, should be present, if pos- 
 sible. The school children, I intended, should have a Christmas 
 tree. Such a thing they had never heard of before, nor did I tell them 
 fully what it meant; but I thought to make it a pleasant tree to them, 
 and as I had but little spare time from my school duties to devote to 
 preparation, I began in time. I set men to build an arbor 60 x 20 
 feet near the school-room. The frame work was strongly built of young 
 sapplings, ready for wattling when we were ready to use it. There 
 were eight huge gum trees (Eucalypti) in the grounds, that formed a 
 perfect octagon of considerable dimensions. I had the underbrush 
 cleared away, and a hole dug in the center, wherein to transplant a 
 cedar tree at the proper time. I purposed issuing tickets to defray the 
 expenses, and pay off what debt was yet due. My accounts should 
 be audited, no debts should hang over the property, and I should 
 render an account of my stewardship to the public, who had so gener- 
 ously helped me with money for the work. I meant that this party 
 should be larger and grander than any before, as the building was 
 now finished. I was also very busy with my annual returns, and filling 
 up abstracts and records for government. I was busy night and day; 
 but I was looking forward to another year, if all went well, to have less 
 hard work to do, and to enjoy more bodily comfort. Well, I was busy 
 writing, all my papers and books spread out before me, one evening, 
 when unexpectedly the door was thrown open, and in stalked and 
 rolled a number of men half-intoxicated. I was astonished at the in- 
 trusion. I asked what was their business. They answered : 
 
 "Your business is to leave the room, and we will attend to ours when 
 you are gone." 
 
 I said I was very busy on important government documents, and 
 this is the only place I can write at. Smith, who was skulking behind 
 some of the drunken fellows, whispered, 
 
 "Put her out." 
 
 When I saw and heard Smith, I feared some personal violence. I 
 shut my books, folded my papers, and prepared to leave the room. I 
 said I hoped they would not interrupt me any more in my work, as it 
 must be attended to. I was told that the trustees had given them per- 
 mission to hold their meetings here, and they intended to hold them. 
 My work was nothing to them. I told them my work was to build up 
 the house to teach their children in, and if it were nothing to them, I 
 hoped they would not attempt to make use of it again. I then left the 
 room. This was a new annoyance got up by Smith. I left my lamp
 
 472 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 with them, and had to sit in the dark all the time listening to their loud, 
 boisterous talk. I wondered why Smith was allowed to annoy me so 
 much. At last they left, and if a herd of swine had been turned into 
 my clean, well-appointed room, it could not have been left in a more 
 filthy state. This annoyance they repeated on every trifling occasion. 
 There was a friend of Smith's, a seamstress, who lived a few miles from 
 the school, who, like Smith, affected Episcopalianism. She, unauthor- 
 ized, invited Mr. C , the curate of St. Thomas and the choir to 
 
 come up and practice in the school-room one evening, for the enter- 
 tainment of the people of North Sydney. This suited Mr. C ; he 
 
 thought it a step in the right direction to get a firm hold on the prop- 
 erty. As usual, I was at my writing, busy as a bee, when I was sud- 
 denly and unexpectedly interrupted by a number of strangers walking 
 in and sitting down. I was wholly unprepared for such an intrusion, 
 and ignorant of its cause. When I saw Smith and company, I shut 
 my books, and put up my papers. The unceremonious way in which 
 
 Mr C treated me, caused me to take a back seat in my own 
 
 school-room. Not one of those, who had taken possession of it that 
 night, had paid one shilling toward building it. As I did not know 
 
 the programme, I watched the proceedings. Mrs. O played the 
 
 hostess to perfection. She asked me where the candles were. I had 
 none of course. I told her if she brought no candles for her own use, 
 
 she might use my lamp; it was all I had. Mr. C conducted 
 
 some anthems, which sounded very sweetly. On the party leaving, 
 
 I told Mr C , if he at any time wished to bring a party of his 
 
 friends to practice music in my school-room, if he would only be so 
 kind as to let me know beforehand, I could prepare for them, and 
 make them welcome; then they would not interrupt my very important 
 government work. 
 
 "Did you not know we were coming?" 
 "I did not; nor did I know your object in coming." 
 There was a deep undercurrent running beneath all these ruffling, 
 disturbing annoyances, but I could not reach it. I was troubled at 
 the many interruptions that I had in the midst of important calcula- 
 tions. I never had made any mistakes, but I feared that I might 
 make them ; my head was strangely confused after any unusual an- 
 noyance, and I dreaded to send an incorrect document to the educa- 
 tion office. A thought occurred to me, and one morning I carried the 
 deeds of the property and asked Mr. Wilkins if he pleased to read 
 them and tell me if the trustees could construe any sentence into
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 
 
 473 
 
 power given to them to convey the school property over to the Church 
 of England. 
 
 "They could not convey away the property of the people," he said. 
 I told him of the many interruptions I had had lately when making 
 up my returns, and I feared to make mistakes. I recrossed the ferry ; 
 I called at the rectory, and asked for the rector. I handed him the 
 deeds and asked him to please read them, which he did. I told him 
 that he knew the character of the people by whom I was surrounded j 
 a great many v.ere opposed to reform, and were my enemies ; for 
 whilst I remained amongst them their craft was in danger, and they 
 would compass sea and land if it were possible to remove me ; and 
 they think they have one way of doing it, viz.: to convey the property 
 over to the Episcopal Church, and get a teacher of that church in my 
 place. In the first place, they have not the power to convey away 
 the property from the people, as you see by the wording of the deeds. 
 
 When Mr. L gave me the land to build a school-house on, he 
 
 said positively that the church should not have it. Now on that land 
 I have built a school-house for all the people's children, far and near, 
 of every denomination, and now that my work is nearly done, I am 
 sorry to see your curate standing on the side of drunkards, liars and 
 thieves, to deprive me of the labor of my hands. Now, if your curate 
 had the interest of the people at heart, he would come up and preach 
 for them on Sundays, or lecture on week days, in connection with the 
 bush missionaries. I would co-operate with him and bid him welcome. 
 "If a trustee were to die or move away, could you not appoint in 
 his place the rector of St. Thomas? I do not mean myself only, but 
 any rector who may succeed me on and on?" said the rector. 
 
 "Do you remember, Mr. C , that when I asked you to give me 
 
 a little money toward my building fund, that you feared to give lest 
 any one seeing your name might give, thinking it was to be an Epis- 
 copal school, and to prevent such a mistake you wrote with your own 
 hand that the church Jiad nothing to do with it? You prevented many 
 from giving. Now, those who did give, I impressed on their mind 
 that it was not a church but a public school. I shall not consent to a 
 rector becoming a trustee. I shall not turn traitor to those who gave 
 me money for a public school; I should greatly prefer the Board of 
 National PLducation. It has an interest in the ignorant, stupid people. 
 While I am working for them, it supports me with a liberal salary, 
 sympathy and enrouragement. The gentlemen who comjjose it arc my 
 true friends; individually, they have helped liberally toward the build-
 
 474 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ing, and they have never hinted that they wished to possess the prop- 
 erly or to control it." 
 
 The rector and I parted good friends, but we understood each other. 
 
 That morning when going down to the ferry my heart was full of 
 troubled thought, and I was very light-headed going home. I felt 
 lighter-hearted, but I had a strange feeling about me. I had a pain 
 ni my side for some time, and that morning I was crossing a gully on 
 a narrow plank-bridge, when all at once I became almost unconscious. 
 I stood still; I feared to move, lest I should fall over the bridge. 
 How long I stood I did not know, but when I rallied I thought I 
 would consult Dr. Ward and ask what ailed me. My heart and lungs 
 were pronounced sound, but he said I was overworked; that my head 
 could not stand much more work. I told him worry hurt me more 
 than work. He prescribed for me. My long walk and my exciting 
 conversations on that day made me feel on Sunday that my heart was 
 very tired and my strength was very low. On Monday morning my 
 frugal breakfast sat on the table untouched, while I sat shivering over 
 the fire, though the morning was exceedingly hot. I roused myself 
 as school-time drew on. I attended to my duties with a sick and sink- 
 ing frame. I had to sit down several times to keep from falling. My 
 head was very strangely affected. I struggled on through that day of 
 toil. I dismissed school, and would have gone to see the doctor, but 
 I feared my strength could not sustain a twelve miles' walk ere dark- 
 ness set in. Many a mental exclamation went up from my poor sick 
 soul that night. Good Father, what does this sinking, deathly faint- 
 ness mean? Gracious God, what is coming over me? Dear Savior, 
 what is this that blinds me quite? What shall I do? What shall I do? 
 The mirror after a sleepless night reflected a careworn, haggard, weary 
 pale face, with a small crimson spot in front of the right ear. I sat 
 down in a perfect agony. Then, without breaking my fast, I started 
 off on a long walk to see the doctor. I saw a man on the road with 
 a cart of green vegetables. I asked him to give me a seat as far as 
 St. Leonard's, for I could not walk. He said I would get wet, but I 
 did not mind that; he helped me up, but the rough jolting hurt my 
 head dreadfully. When I saw the doctor, he said : 
 
 "You are ill." 
 
 I pointed to the red spot on my cheek, and asked if that was erysipe- 
 las? 
 
 "Yes, of the worst kind," said he. 
 
 I covered my face with my hands, and sank down on a chair, and
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 475 
 
 mentally exclaimed, I must die. I raised myself up with a great 
 effort, and said : 
 
 "Doctor, I am not afraid to die, but I do not wish to die just now. 
 I have some work unfinished; help me to live if you can, doctor, till I 
 finish it." 
 
 "None of us wish to die, and your wish to live is perfectly natural. 
 I will do all I can for you. First, here is a prescription for you ; get 
 it filled. Then you must have the strongest beef tea, chicken broth 
 and Port wine." 
 
 "Stop, doctor, and tell me what I can do without, rather than what 
 I need, for I can get nothing where I am, and I am not able to carry 
 it." 
 
 "Get some beef now, and go to bed as soon as you get home, for 
 you are very ill." 
 
 "I am not able to go to bed, I have so much to do, and my duties 
 are imperative." 
 
 "Nonsense; you can't work." 
 
 "Then I must die, and m the harness." 
 
 "It is as much as your life is worth to teach to-day." 
 
 I bought a pound of beef at the butcher's, and went to the drug- 
 store to get my medicine, and while waiting I had to He over on the 
 counter to save myself from falling ; I was so deathly faint. I asked 
 if there was a vehicle of any kind in the place that I could hire to 
 take me home ; for I could not walk. They knew of none. When I 
 got to the street I became nearly blind and staggered. I took hold of 
 something to steady me. 
 
 "O merciful Father," I cried, "help me to reach home." 
 
 Six miles of a rough, up-hill road lay before me, and I could hardly 
 stand, and the little I had to carry seemed an intolerable load. The 
 sun waspouring down his scorching beams, but I must get home. 
 Home,^t where kindred and loved ones awaited me, but to my lodge 
 in the lone wilderness. I saw a hack and asked the man to take me 
 home and I should pay him a good fare; for I was too sick to walk. 
 He drove me part of the way, and when he put me down I staggered 
 to the side of tfie road and leaned against a rock. 
 
 "O merciful Father," I cried, "help me home or I shall die on the 
 road." 
 
 I had to sit down every few yards. Oh, who but God knew the 
 anguish of mind and body that I suffered in that fearful walk ? When 
 I reached the school-house I went in and sat down, and leaned my
 
 476 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 head on the table till all the children filed in and took their seats; I 
 then raised my head and told them I was too sick to teach them, and 
 for them to leave as (piietly as possible, for every footfall sounded like 
 thunder through my brain. They tiptoed out, shut the door, and I 
 was left alone with my deathly sickness. I could not lock the door 
 nor carry my meat and medicine from the school-room table. All I 
 could do was to crawl to my bed and lie down, clothes and all. I 
 could give the children no instructions when they left. I could not pre- 
 pare the beef tea; I could not lift my head to pour out my medicine, 
 and there I lay a helpless sufferer till evening, when a woman, who, 
 among the low class of women, had fallen below their level, came into 
 my room, looked at me, and went out without trying to help me in 
 any way. I thought the next who came might find me dead. One 
 of my pupils came to see me ; I asked her to make a fire and prepare 
 the beef tea for me, and help me undress; I could not hold up my 
 head. This she did, but had to get home before dark, as she feared 
 going through the forest. The people who were well disposed had 
 not heard me complain, and from what the children said they did not 
 think I was so ill. Another night of excruciating agony passed with- 
 out food or medicine. A woman came to see what was the matter. I 
 begged her to get some one to go for the doctor. Hours passed before 
 any one could be found to go for him, and hours passed ere he could 
 come. When he did come and caught a glimpse of me, he pressed 
 through a crowd of men and women who were standing in my bed- 
 room. He ordered them all out. What had they to do in a lady's 
 bedroom, filling it with impure odors from their dirty clothes and 
 offensive breath? He rushed to my side, and said: 
 
 "This will never do; you are very ill." 
 
 Just then several people came tramping into the school-room. 
 
 "What do these people want in there?" said he. 
 
 "Prayer-meeting," I said. " 
 
 "Devil take their prayer-meeting," said the doctor. 
 
 How profane I thought him. He went to the people, and I heard 
 him say that their prayers were all an offense to God while they al- 
 lowed the lady, who had sacrificed her life in their service, to lie and 
 die in their midst. They ought to be ashamed of themselves for 
 such cruel ingratitude. Now you can have no prayers for the present; 
 we want a little practice. Some of you find a chicken and have it boiled 
 to jelly. He went into the kitchen with one of the women, and there 
 found my Monday morning's untasted breakfast, and the beef on the
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 477 
 
 fireplace that had been put on the day before. When the doctor had 
 cleared the house and given instructions about procuring a nurse for 
 me, etc., he sat down beside me, and said: 
 
 "You are very ill indeed. I ordered you wine yesterday, but you 
 would not take it. I now order you brandy." 
 
 I demurred; I thought the brandy would kill me. 
 
 "It is the only chance for your life, and it may be too late to save 
 you. Twenty-four hours and your case will be decided," he said. 
 
 I consented to do as he said, and I thanked him for telling me the worst. 
 I did not turn my face to the wall, but I turned my thoughts to my great 
 Creator. I was nearly blind; I could hardly see the doctor, though he 
 sat near me. I felt as if my mind was wandering, and before it left me 
 entirely, I had tried to set my house in order, for "the sorrows of 
 death compassed me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid." 
 In my distress I thought of Hezekiah, who was sick unto death, when 
 he wept and prayed, and the Lord added fifteen years to his life. I 
 could not move. I was blind; I could not weep; but I told the Lord 
 that just then I was afraid to die because of the wicked men around 
 me, who might destroy my unaudited accounts and send in bills that 
 had been paid, and Christianity might suffer through me, because the 
 treasury was empty. "Gracious God, let me live, not fifteen years or 
 months, but just to finish my accounts, that the cause of my Master 
 may not suffer at my hands; or, if it be thy will that I must die, take 
 away the fear of man from me, and make me to feel that thou art able to 
 take care of thy own work without me." The Lord heard my voice 
 out of his temple; my cry entered his ears. I was not now afraid 
 of what man could do. With this feeling in my heart, I became un- 
 conscious for five days; I knew no one, and was quite blind. 
 
 It was singular that there was one woman, who, whenever she came 
 near me, caused me to feel a thrill of pain pass through me, whether 
 she spoke or was silent. The nurse told this to the doctor, and he 
 forbade the woman to come near me. This gave the woman offense 
 and one day she came into the room when I was alone and touched 
 me. I gave a scream that brought the nurse. I could not tell what 
 ailed me, but the woman being in the room accounted for the scream. 
 
 While in this unconscious state I had a dream, or vision, of a sin- 
 gular nature. I thought my spirit was outside of my body, and both 
 were going up a high and rugged mountain side, my body going be- 
 fore, and my wondering spirit could not tell how the body climbed 
 the steep so nimbly, and without an effort. When we reached the
 
 478 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 top my spirit entered my body, and we sat down to contemplate the 
 scene. Above and around there was a light brighter than the sun ; 
 but neither sun, moon nor stars bedecked the heavens. No floating, 
 fleecy clouds curtained the sky; no bird or busy insect flew in mid- 
 air, or chirped in the trees — 
 
 "On mountain or in glen, 
 
 Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, 
 Nor ought of vegetation power, 
 The weary eye could ken." 
 
 Trackless mountains, rocky glens, broken boulders and sand, be- 
 strewed the plains and the dismal, sandy seashore. Neither man nor 
 beast, nor any creeping thing, was astir in this vast, stony wilderness. 
 No lowing of cattle or bleating of sheep was heard. A vast ocean 
 stretched out in the distance, but it lay motionless and still; not a 
 breath of air rippled its glassy surface, and all the finny tribe were dead, 
 if any ever existed. How terrible to sit on the apex of a mountain 
 contemplating this lifeless, soulless world. If this be solitude, I thought, 
 it has no charms. 
 
 On the ninth morning from the time I took ill I opened my eyes a 
 little. I thought I saw the doctor at my door, and I whispered, 
 
 "Doctor!" and he answered, in a cheery voice, 
 
 "You are better." 
 
 no, I am no better; last night I was worse than ever, and the 
 people said I was mad, and they ran after me to put me in the mad- 
 house; but I ran away from them." 
 
 "They will not put you there now," he said. 
 
 1 asked where I was, and where I had been, for I could not think. 
 "Lie still, and do not talk or think, but get well as fast as you can." 
 When the doctor ceased speaking complete consciousness returned. 
 
 I believed God had heard my prayer and had given me back my life. 
 My last feeling before I became unconscious was gratitude to God for 
 taking away the fear of man from my heart. My first feeling on re- 
 turning to consciousness was gratitude to him for adding to my days. 
 How happy I felt that God Avas my father. In eight days from the 
 time I opened my eyes and became conscious I was at work in my 
 school-room, very weak, but thankful to be on my feet once more. 
 The first thing I did was to see and pay the good doctor, who had 
 been so kind and tender and attentive to me, walking twelve miles 
 every day to see me. I was afraid the p^2o, or $ioo, that I had
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 479 
 
 would not pay him, but I could pa}' him in another month. When 
 the doctor saw me sitting so tired-looking, he began to scold me for 
 coming to him. Why not send for him if I was ill ? I would be laid 
 up agam. I told him I was well, only tired, and I had come to pay 
 him. and asked for his bill. 
 
 "I have been paid," said the doctor quickly. 
 
 "By whom," I asked, for no one had any right to pay my bill, and 
 I feared the doctor had sent in his bill to government to be deducted 
 from my salary. This thought gave me pain. The doctor saw the 
 pained expression, and said: 
 
 "I shall relieve you by telling you that I am paid by seeing you up 
 again, and besides, I make it a rule in my practice never to charge a 
 minister or a missionary for my services." 
 
 "But, doctor, I am neither." 
 
 "What? I can prove that you are both; and in your mission min- 
 istering to the wants of people, both physically, mentally and morally, 
 till your life was all but sacrificed. No, no; I take no money from 
 you for anything I have done or may do. Never hesitate to come to 
 me or send for me, and I shall do all I can for you if you are sick." 
 
 His kindness overwhelmed me. 
 
 Only two weeks till Christmas, and I was a bankrupt in physical 
 strength. Only two Saturdays to prepare for my grand rural enter- 
 tainment. I had no material nor money to buy it, and could not 
 begin to prepare until I had the wherewithal to prepare. This was 
 more than enough work, but it was not the worst that I had to contend 
 
 with. While I was sick in bed Smith, O & Co. had been issuing 
 
 tickets for a picnic in the woods around O 's house. Many bought 
 
 tickets thinking it was in the interest of the school, but its object was 
 to defeat my having a party at the school-house. Smith & Co. deter- 
 mined that it should be a failure, and oh, how much depended on its 
 being a success. I was afraid to think of failure. 
 
 Those who have family relatives can take sweet counsel togetlier, 
 can talk over their difficulties, suggest means to overcome them, and 
 thus help one another. I had no such help; I sat alone, witli aching 
 heart and throbbing brow. I went to Him who had ever been a i)rcs- 
 ent help in time of trouble. 
 
 I had become acquainted with nearly all the ladies on the north 
 
 shore. I wended my feeble steps to Mrs. W 's house. I told her 
 
 what I had intended to do, and without help I could not do it now, 
 and I would have to depend on my lady friends to get up the children's
 
 480 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Christmas-tree ; it depended on them whether my party would be a 
 success or a failure. She promised abundant help. I told her that 
 alone in my weakness I could not cope with the current that was 
 against me at present; I had not the strength or time, and the whole 
 future of the school depended greatly on this being a success. Two 
 ladies present cried out, 
 
 "What shall we do to help you; we are able and willing?" 
 
 "Then choose for yourselves what you can give and make for my 
 school children." 
 
 I saw a few other enthusiastic ladies, who had heard through the 
 doctor of my illness. They all said they would help, and, to save me 
 so much walking, they would communicate with others, and to rest 
 assured that the tree would be a success. So it gave me no more 
 trouble. I was encouraged, and I trudged on to Sydney, and had 
 tickets printed. A gentleman gave me ten dollars for one; this paid 
 for the printing and something else. I was as successful with the gen- 
 tlemen as with the ladies. One gentleman gave me a bag of best flour, 
 224 pounds, and ten dollars for a ticket. The price of a ticket, thirty- 
 six cents. I bought sugar and tea, the very best, at half price; a grocer 
 gave me currants and raisins ; another butter and lemon peel. I pro- 
 cured everything that was wanted and more for very litde money. I 
 went and made a bargain with the baker to make bread and cakes of 
 different kinds. Hams of the best quality were given. I went to the 
 timber merchant, and hired timber for tables and benches. I hired 
 table-ware at the china store, and all this had to be carried seven miles, 
 and across the harbor. The building at North Sydney was both more 
 difficult and expensive, on account of everything having to be carried 
 so far. I was dreadfully tired; but I was so encouraged that I cried. 
 I had everything in working order now. 
 
 Mr. Sayers being a ship owner, he had a flag-staff at his house. He 
 had plenty of bunting, and he lent me a load of flags of all nations to 
 decorate with. I had the Union Jack floating over the school-house, 
 and the stars and stripes over the arbor. The eucalypti octagon that 
 was in the grounds, I had walled in by these bright bunting flags with 
 fine effect. I had a cedar tree twelve or fourteen feet high planted in 
 the center, laden with choice fruit, more tempting than the golden 
 fruit of the orange groves, because it was more rare. On Christmas 
 eve baskets full of dressed dolls, children's dresses, shoes, hose, horses, 
 carts, hammers, whips, bats, balls and books, and dozens of bright silk 
 bags full of candy were sent in. Such a tree had never been seen at
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 481; 
 
 North Sydney. The long arbor was wattled and decked with flowers; 
 the school-room was festooned and garlanded, and flags were placed 
 here and there. 
 
 On the beautiful Christmas morn our school-ground presented a 
 picturesque appearance. At an early hour fine carriages were rolling 
 in, and equestrians riding into the inclosure, and hitching their horses 
 under leafy canopies. At the appointed hour the children sat down to 
 a rich repast, such as they enjoyed only once a year. The ladies from 
 a distance waited on the children, and when all had eaten to satiety, 
 they had each a bundle of good things to carry home. While the ar- 
 bor was being cleared of the children's feast, and re-prepared for the 
 strangers, the octagon tent was opened, and the scholars all sang, and 
 marched to the tent, and surrounded the tree, and wondering eyes 
 looked at the wonderful fruit. Every scholar received a present and a 
 bag of candy. My former night scholars were not forgotten. After 
 these, every child in the village, who was not at school, received a 
 present. Little nursing babies^, received clothes of various kinds. 
 Smith's whole family had presents. Surely the children were happy 
 that day. When the children were dismissed to play in the grounds, 
 a feast of good things and beautiful were spread in the arbor, and over 
 two hundred ladies and gentleman, who had come from a distance, sat 
 down, and a merry, pleasant time they had. When this part of the 
 programme was completed, we adjourned to the school-room to finish 
 the whole. Mr. Sayers was voted to the chair, and there were some 
 short and stirring speeches made. Mr. Palmer, who had audited my 
 accounts, read them. They gave entire satisfaction to all those who 
 had intrusted me with money. I was highly complimented in every 
 speech. Some gentlemen came in late, who had been to the picnic in 
 the woods, thinking it was the school party, as they had been told. 
 They found a sorry set of drunken men, with a barrel of beer in their 
 midst, making themselves merry over it, and then becoming uproar- 
 ious. These gentlemen, finding their mistake, left in disgust, and now 
 they exposed the meanness of those who from the first had opposed 
 reform in their midst. All those who had risen up against me were 
 ashamed and confounded. "The Lord God held up my right hand, 
 and said, Fear not, I will help thee." Mr. C , the curate, was pres- 
 ent, and others who could have told that I had more powerful opponents 
 than Smith and company. The Lord brought me a great victory. 
 
 The two weeks hard work and so great excitement completely pros- 
 trated me. One of my two weeks holiday was over and gone, and I 
 31
 
 482 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 was nearly gon^ too. But the Board of National Education kindly ex- 
 tended my holiday, and told me they could not afford to lose me, and 
 I must take time to recuperate. 
 
 I took a train to Richmond, a beautiful town on the river of that 
 name, on the eastern slof)e of the Blue Mountains. I spent a pleasant 
 day at the house of Mr. Forbes, our new inspector. Here I met Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wilkins, who were spending the holidays here. I took a 
 stage-coach, and went further up the mountains, and at a quaint little 
 inn at the foot of the Kurrajong Mountain, I rested for a week. I 
 rode to the top of the mountain on horseback; was entertained at the 
 house of an M. P., who took me over all his beautiful grounds and 
 gardens, and I had one of the grandest inland views that I ever had 
 in the colony. I was greatly strengthened by my rides and the moun- 
 tain breezes. On my return, I spent another day very pleasantly at 
 the house of Mr. Forbes. I came home rested and refreshed by my 
 trip, and ready for another year's work. 
 
 In July, 1866, I heard of the deatl» of the greatest man of the age, 
 my revered and honored friend Mr. Campbell. I wrote letters to 
 dear Mrs. Campbell, consoling and congratulating her, first, because 
 of the absence of her great head, and last, that she had had the privi- 
 lege to add to his comfort and happiness while here. She has been a 
 highly honored woman. 
 
 The Christian Church was planted at this time in Victoria and South 
 Australia. Brother Earl, a graduate of Bethany College, an Evangelist, 
 was sent for, and came from England. He planted churches in both 
 colonies. Other Evangelists had been sent for, and the cause was 
 prospering. 
 
 Brother wrote to me : 
 
 Dear Sister Davies : — We have just sent to Brother Franklin to send us another 
 Evangelist. The Melbourne brethren have sent for a preacher to succeed H. S. 
 Earl, who has, I suppose, added over three hundred to the church in Victoria. 
 We have reason to be grateful to God, for sending to this far-off land so good a 
 servant. * * * * Yours very sincerely, : 
 
 There were now three Evangelists in the field hard at work. I wrote 
 at that time the following note in my journal: I hope the time is not 
 distant, when we shall have one in Sydney; but it will be a hard field 
 to cultivate; but all the more need to break up the soil. 
 
 In September, 1866, I was sitting in my room one night reading. 
 Silence, as deep as the tomb, reigned around. The day had been very
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 4S3 
 
 hot. Presently I thought I heard the pattering of rain upon the shin- 
 gles. I was glad to hear it; the hot air would be cooled, the parched 
 earth moistened. The wind began to blow in great gusts. I sat for 
 some time listening to the strange noise the rain was making. I fancied 
 I saw lightning flash; I raised my curtain, and stood aghast at the scene 
 which presented itself I shall not soon forget it. The whole forest 
 behind the school-house was on fire; it was awfully grand, but terrific. 
 The wind was blowing fiercely in my direction. My heart gave an in- 
 voluntary throb, then seemed to stand still. The tall flames kissed the 
 clouds, and then made a graceful bend toward me, sending out a shower 
 of fire-drops all over me and my house. I feared the shingles would 
 ignite. I ran up and down the road to see if there was any one astir, 
 who could help to save the house if it took fire. No one was near. I 
 walked up and down, out and in all night, keeping lonely watch. It 
 was a fearful night, as the fire raged and ran all night. The wind went 
 down, and the danger lessened toward day. Every tree that took fire 
 crackled in the midnight air like the firing of musketry. Every night the 
 wind rose, and the fire blazed, and the trees crackled, and I kept lonely 
 watch for five nights. Finally the fire Avent out. In all these nights 
 I looked to him who numbers the hairs of my head, and looks after 
 the sparrows. When I asked for a calm and strong heart, I was an- 
 .swered, "as thy day, so shall thy strength be." "My grace is suffi- 
 cient for you." I asked for strength, and I received it. 
 
 When I look at trees standing alone in isolated places, they are 
 strong; every blast that blows makes them strike deeper into the 
 ground; they grow rigid and hard. 
 
 I prayed for strength in my isolation amid the furious storms of 
 human passions, but not for hardness or rigidity. Trees are almost 
 like human beings in their sociability; they grow in companies; they 
 grow flexible and considerate of each other. When crowded into 
 narrow space, they stretch out their hands toward each other as if n 
 tenderness and salutation. I stood alone. 
 
 I began, with the help of my boys, to improve the grounds. I had 
 a space for a flower garden marked off, a little summer-house built, 
 and flowers and vines of almost every hue and class planted and 
 growing beautifully. A great unsightly mound of red clay and iron- 
 stone surrounded my well, and the windlass stood in the midst of it 
 like a gallows. I laid a row of bricks around the edge of the mound, 
 and had it covered with a thick layer of rich earth from the rotten 
 trees, and planted crimson verbenas and tall gladioluses to conceal the
 
 484 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 windlass. I had dien a diing of beauty to look at every time I opened 
 my back door. The aroma from the sweet peas, the honeysuckles 
 and the moss roses delighted the senses. I planted peach-trees, nec- 
 tarine, fig, orange and apple-trees. Passion fruit was growing over 
 my little arbor, which was built around a great gum-tree, whose fra- 
 grant bunches of beautiful flowers reached the roof of the arbor. I 
 had time to beautify and ornament the premises. My spare hours 
 were not all taken up with my long walks now. Everywhere round 
 about improvements were going on; roads were surveyed and cleared, 
 and little bridges over gullies were built. I had still to go to Sydney 
 for my provisions, but on my return home I could now hire a hack to 
 carry me home. 
 
 I was in Sydney on one occasion when a fearful rain-storm deluged 
 the town. The streets were like wide rushing rivers; the store-floors 
 under water, and the cellars filled. I stayed till Sunday afternoon, 
 thinking the rain would moderate, but it did not, and I thought I must 
 get home, rain or shine, ready for work Monday morning. I crossed 
 the ferry, and took a hack for North Sydney. The rain did not fall 
 in drops, but seemed to fall in sheets. Though under curtains I was 
 saturated. We drove till we came to the great Flat Rock. This was 
 just what its name indicated, honeycombed with great holes always 
 full of water in dry weather. I could navigate among them dry-shod, 
 but it was always covered with water in the rainy season, and danger- 
 ous to cross, and over this my road lay; but now it was impassable, a 
 river a quarter of a mile wide was rushing over it with mad fury, full 
 of rapids, and concealing the holes with its muddy water. When 
 the horses came to this roaring torrent, they reared, and plunged, 
 and backed, and would not go into the flood. I jumped out of 
 the carriage and stood in the rain to see if the man could drive 
 them in, but they would not go ; they were terror-stricken, and made 
 terrible plunges. Their heads were turned from the rushing waters, 
 and they became quieter. The man said he feared that if the horses 
 did venture to cross, so deep and wide and strong was the current, 
 that there was danger in horses, carriage and all being swept away 
 over the falls, which were but a few yards distant, hidden in the scrub, 
 I had to get into the carriage and drive back. Next day I had to take 
 a long, roundabout road to get home. This Flat Rock had always 
 been a great bugbear to me when I was compelled to walk in the 
 rainy season. I came to it one day on my way home, and it was all 
 under water, nearly knee deep. The holes were very deep, but I
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 485 
 
 could see them, the water was so clear. I sat down by the rushing 
 stream, laden as usual, and afraid to attempt to cross. I sat some 
 time, thinking I must turn back, when I saw a well-dressed stranger 
 draw near. He looked around and across, and then stripped his feet, 
 and, with a stout cane, had nearly reached the far side, when I felt 
 impelled to call to him (an entire stranger to me) to come back and 
 please help me across. I might sit there all night or go back without 
 an opportunity to cross if I let this one pass. He came back, took 
 a firm hold of my hand, and, supported by his stout cane, passed 
 between the holes in safety. I thanked the stranger for his kindness. 
 He looked at my dripping garments, smiled, and said : 
 
 "No great kindness, I think." 
 
 "Yes," I said, "you helped me to cross that stream, which I could 
 not do myself, and it is necessary that I get home this evening." 
 
 So we each went on our separate ways. 
 
 As I had to turn back in the carriage I could not reach Sydney 
 before dark, and I had to take shelter from the storm in a little way- 
 side inn at the edge of St. Leonard's. I partially dried my clothes at 
 a fire and took tea with the family, all strangers to me, but very civil. 
 The house was crowded with people taking shelter. The storm kept 
 me awake all night, and I arose very early, but not before mine host, 
 who said breakfast was nearly ready, to wait for it. I sent for a hack 
 to take me home, but could not procure one. I ate my breakfast and 
 called for my bill. To my great astonishment the host said: 
 
 "Ma'am, I charge you nothing; you were forced to take shelter 
 '^ under our roof, such as it is, and for such fare as you had you're wel- 
 come to it." 
 
 "The very reasons you give for not charging me, are those that 
 ought to make you charge more." 
 
 "No, ma'am; no reason would make me charge you anything." 
 
 The storm had cleared away, but I had to take a roundabout walk 
 often miles to escape the Flat Rock. I changed my wet garments and 
 stood all day teaching. The bricks of which the cottage was built 
 were very porous, and in every rain-storm the walls were soaked, and 
 the plastering inside retained the damp so long that it never had time 
 to dry between the storms, and it was sometimes almost suffocating to 
 sleep in the damp air. I had to dry my bed by the fire in wet weath- 
 er, and to keep myself from taking cold and rheumatism, I would wrap 
 up in wet bandages. 
 
 My indebtedness to Dr. Ward troubled me for some time, but I
 
 486 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 found out his little daughter's birthday, and presented her with an ele- 
 gant fapier-mache writing-desk, with all kinds of tinted note paper, 
 large and small, with envelopes to match, pens, penknife, paper knife, 
 sponge, tablets, pencils, and everything that could be useful and pretty 
 pertaining to a desk. I wrote a note and sent it with the desk, in 
 which I said, I could never pay for her father's kindness to me, but I 
 wished to show my appreciation of it by this small gift to his little 
 daughter. I had a note of thanks forthwith. She said she was nine 
 years old, and said, of all the things in the world she wanted a desk. 
 
 "Thank you, thank you, dear Mrs. Davies, for the beautiful desk 
 and beautiful things. Papa was not pleased with you for sending me 
 so handsome a present, but I was pleased ; so I thank you again and 
 again. I shall take good care of it and everything." 
 
 This was a genuine letter of thanks. 
 
 I had written to my friend, Hon. G. F. Angas, of the death of Mr. 
 Campbell, and he wrote a very kind letter in answer to mine. I wrote 
 to him again; but my letter will explain itself: 
 
 Bethany School-house, December 6, 1866. 
 Hon. Geo. F. Angas: 
 
 Dear Sir; — I received your truly kind and Christian letter with your liberal 
 donation of ;^io for the good cause enclosed. I should have answered it at 
 once, but I have not been able. I am sorry to say I was lying at the point of 
 death with erysipelas in the face and head. I was blind and out of my mind for 
 five days. I believe Mr. Dixon acknowledged the receipt of your letter. When 
 I became conscious I asked him to do so. And now, dear Christian friend, I 
 take up my pen with a trembling hand and weakened frame to record my thanks 
 to you for the help to my work you have so kindly rendered. My health is ter- 
 ribly shattered. I have had severe privations and exposures in prosecuting my 
 public work, and working hard at my daily toil. My labors have all been suc- 
 cessful, but they have been, I think, too much for me under the circumstances. 
 The Lord has given me success and blessed my work; all honor to his name. I 
 shall write again ; I am so weak that I can hardly hold the pen. May grace, 
 mercy and peace be yours the remainder of your pilgrimage, is the prayer, dear 
 Christian friend, of Your sister in Christ, Eliza Davies. 
 
 On the anniversary of my first dangerous illness, I was again strick- 
 en, smitten and laid low. Dr. Ward, good and kind, was in attend- 
 ance. He told me that the disease in itself was much worse than it 
 was the year before, and the issue was doubtful. I told him to do just 
 what he thought right; as for myself, I was in God's hands. I was 
 not now so anxious to live as I was the year before. God had given 
 me the time to finish the work I had on hand, and that was all I asked
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 487 
 
 for. I was willing to go if my time had come. The world gave me 
 no concern now. On Sunday I was taken ill, and on Monday my 
 friend Mr. Dixon walked out before breakfast to see me. I was blind ; 
 I could not see him as he stood full of sorrow by my bedside. He 
 was very much alarmed to see me so ill in so short a time. He had 
 been told by one of my young men who Avas in his employ that I was 
 taken ill just as I had been that day year, and the old gentleman hur- 
 ried to see me, and if possible to render assistance. I was too ill to 
 tell him anything. He saw the doctor on his return, received instruc- 
 tions, and when he reached Sydney sent out a nurse and what other 
 things were necessary for me. The pain in my head was excruciating. 
 I was delirious very soon, and continued so several days. I told the 
 nurse one night that there was a light around me brighter than the 
 sun, and more dazzling, in fact, it was blinding me with its brightness. 
 I put my hand up to shade my eyes from the dazzling splendor, but I 
 saw the light through my hand, it was so transparent. Now I was 
 perfectly blind in a dark room, and my hands perfectly powerless un- 
 der the cover. I also saw at a short distance heaven's walls of golden 
 tint stretching away to the right and left, and the gate in the middle 
 thrown wide open. On one of the huge golden pillars that stood by 
 the gate, in a listening attitude, stood the majestic Archangel Gabriel. 
 He seemed to excel in strength, and was ready to do his Lord's com- 
 mand. I thought, just behind the pillar, inside the wall, sat Christ. 
 I listened, for I expected to hear from the throne the beloved voice of 
 the Master say to his minister: 
 
 "Go; bring her up hither." 
 
 But though I waited and listened I did not hear the command or 
 see the messenger fly. I grew weary and fell asleep, and when I 
 awoke I was in this world and in my right mind. I asked the nurse 
 if she had seen Gabriel ? She said she had not. The doctor said 
 that my mind being at perfect ease was the salvation of my body; had 
 I had a tithe of the anxiety I had the year before, nothing could have 
 saved me. 
 
 "Who but a God can speak and save from the dark borders of the 
 grave?" 
 
 "Thine arms of everlasting love 
 Did this weak frame sustain, 
 When life was hovering o'er the grave 
 
 And nature sunk with pain. 
 
 Calmly I bowed my fainting head 
 
 On thy dear faithful breast;
 
 488 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Pleased to obey my Father's call 
 
 To his eternal rest. 
 Back from the borders of the grave 
 
 At thy command I come ; 
 Nor will I urge a speedier flight 
 
 To my celestial home." 
 
 I had two very narrow escapes from the grave. If I had a third 
 attack, I felt sure that I must go, and I looked forward to the time of 
 year, November, for my final attack. I kept my house in order, and 
 was not sorry at the prospect of entering into rest. The day rolled 
 round, the time passed, and I did not take sick. December passed. 
 I felt as if I had taken a new lease of my life. I had through this year 
 many more comforts and conveniences; but I must not anticipate. 
 
 Before I took sick, I was sitting at my writing table in the school- 
 room, filling up my abstracts and preparing my returns, when a woman 
 walked in, and sat down before me sans ceremonie. She was large and 
 square built, with fierce red-brown eyes, wide mouth, thin lips, low 
 brow and deeply pock-marked. Like the woman of Samaria, with 
 whom our Savior condescended to converse, she had no husband, but 
 had lived with several men, one colored, and the present one an old 
 convict, and an infidel. She was a Papist. Well, she sat down, and 
 fastened her red-brown eyes upon me with a fierce, piercing look. I 
 asked her what she wanted. 
 
 "I have come to warn you of the danger you are in, living in this 
 house by yourself; this is no place for you, unless you keep fire-arms. 
 Have you a gun or a pistol?" 
 
 I said I had neither; but "What is the danger of which you speak?" 
 
 "Why, last night there were nine runaway sailors came to our house, 
 and knocked at the door. I told them Bill was not at home; but he 
 got up, and let them in, and they had drink, and they spent a rousing 
 night till daylight, when they left. Now what if those sailors had come 
 to your door and broken in, what could you do with nine drunken 
 sailors by yourself without gun or pistol?" 
 
 She expatiated till I grew heart-sick at the horrible word pictures she 
 drew. My blood ran cold at her strange fancies, and she seemed to 
 gloat over the effect she was producing. I could endure no longer. I 
 rose to my feet, and said : 
 
 "The sailors knew where to go, and if they had come to my door 
 by mistake, I had stronger arms than fire-arms to protect me; I did 
 not fear."
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 489 
 
 "And pray," said the strange woman, "what arms are stronger than 
 fire-arms?" 
 
 "The arms of Omnipotence ; they are around me, and in them I am 
 safe," I said. 
 
 ' 'There are people lurking about here every night watching you ; 
 they look under your door, and through your keyhole," she said. 
 
 "What do they see, or expect to see?" 
 
 "Oh, they have seen you at your prayers." 
 
 "And so I was saved from further trouble; but this is idle talk, and 
 I am very busy. I have no more time to listen to you ; my business 
 is of more importance, and I must attend to it, and I hope to have no 
 more interruptions of this sort." 
 
 With a scowl on her dark brow, she left the room. I was greatly dis- 
 turbed at her fearful representations, yet I did not wish this fierce 
 woman to see that she had power to frighten me. The murderer had 
 been traced to her house, and she was my nearest neighbor. Another 
 time she rushed into the school-room, her eyes all ablaze, and a frown 
 as dark as midnight on her brow. She exclaimed : 
 
 "Mrs. Davies, you have nothing but a nest of vipers in your school, 
 and their fathers and mothers old vipers, and you allow these young 
 vipers to call my children bastards." 
 
 She raged like a tigress for her young, till she stopped to recover 
 breath. I said: 
 
 "Woman, I have no vipers or vipers' children in my school. I be- 
 lieve the parents of all who are here are married couples except your- 
 self. You object to your children being called bastards. Why did you 
 make them that? You have put a badge of everlasting shame upon 
 your children, and you object to the name you wished them to have. 
 Foolish woman, do you expect strangers to be more considerate of 
 your children than you are yourself? You say I allow the school 
 children to call your children bastards. In this you are entirely mis- 
 taken; I protect your children from insult, and from the ill-effects of 
 your bad conduct. I treat them as if they belonged to a respectable 
 family, and they stand upon their own merits for praise or blame. 
 Your poor, unfortunate children, when they go out into the world, will 
 have to suffer enough for your sins without crushing them now, and 
 there is not a pupil in this school in my presence would presume to 
 call them by the disgraceful name you have bestowed upon them. I 
 pity them, and while under my protection they are safe; they can not 
 be always so."
 
 49° THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 The blaze in her red-brown eyes had quenched in tears; her harsh 
 and angry voice was softened and subdued. She went away sobbing 
 like a child. I had expected an avalanche of abuse for my plain speak- 
 ing; I was better pleased as it was. I hoped she might digest what I 
 said, and repent of her wicked ways. Again she came to me, more 
 respectful in her manner. She fixed her red-brown eyes upon me, 
 and said: 
 
 "I believe you are a good woman, a good Christian lady; I 
 did not think so at first. I could not think that if you were good, 
 you would come to this God- forsaken place, to live among such bad 
 people as we all are. I thought you pretended to be good, and I hated 
 you for the pretense; but I think differently now, and I shall not abuse 
 you any more, or try to frighten you." 
 
 I told her I was glad she was in a better frame of mind. 
 
 "Yes, I feel very different altogether, and I now wonder you ever 
 came out here, and took so much abuse from us. I am sure you must 
 have been half-starved sometimes." 
 
 "The Master, whom I serve, left a glorious home in heaven to come 
 to earth, where he suffered hunger, and thirst, and cold, and abuse, 
 and had not where to lay his head; he was despised, and suffered a 
 cruel death on the cross. He lived a life of poverty, and died a death 
 of shame, that we might inherit eternal life. Seeing Christ has done 
 so much for us, I wished to serve him, and tell others of him, and find- 
 ing the people here so bad, I thought I would try and teach their chil- 
 dren to be good, and bring them to their Savior; for he loves children, 
 and he helps me to bear with what you and others have made me suffer 
 since I came to live amongst you." 
 
 "I wish I could live a different life than what I am doing," burst 
 from her. 
 
 I said: "You may, if you desiife, live differently. Repent of your 
 sins, and come to Christ, and he will have mercy upon you. He has 
 said, though your sins be like scarlet, I shall make them white as wool; 
 or red like crimson, they shall be white as snow." 
 
 "The priest does not talk as you do; for if I pay him, he forgives 
 my sins." 
 
 "None but Christ can forgive sins, and he does it freely, without 
 money and without price; but you must repent of your sins, leave 
 them, and turn away from them. He will not forgive you as long as 
 you live as you are living. First, you must either marry the man you 
 are living with, or leave him; otherwise you are not safe."
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 49! 
 
 She had been to the confessional, but found no relief. Again she 
 came to me, and said "Bill" would not marry her. 
 "Then leave him," I said. 
 
 She said she had so many children, she did not know how to provide 
 for them. I told her the Lord would provide, if she was anxious to 
 serve him. I felt sorry for the woman; she was awkwardly situated. 
 I advised her to go to the Refuge for a while, and I would exert my- 
 self to have her children put in the Destitute Asylum, where they 
 would be well cared for, and educated, and taught trades. She did 
 not like to be separated from them. Then she might rent a small house 
 somewhere, and take in washing, and earn a respectable living in that 
 way. I could help her. She told Bill that she wished to bring up her 
 cliildren better than they were, and she must leave him. She left him, 
 and rented a small house at St. Leonard's. I interested my lady friends 
 in her behalf, and they bo;aght her a mangle, to be paid for by her in 
 washing. Supplied with this, she could support herself very comfort- 
 ably. She sent her children to school, and thus began a new life, and 
 continued in it. In passing her house on my way to Sydney, many a 
 blessing she prayed for me, when she saw me. She said she was much 
 happier than she ever expected to be, and she hoped God would for- 
 give her for the past. I hoped the good seed was planted in good and 
 honest soil, and that it would bring forth good fruit. 
 
 The wild forest was becoming habitable; roads were opened and 
 cleared in every direction, with gravel floors and leafy awnings. 
 Floods, fires and terrific thunder storms still prevailed; but improve- 
 ments were going on, land had been sold, and temporary buildings 
 built. Again I was in danger by fire. A wide road only separated 
 the burning forest from the school-house. Strangers in the village ran 
 to the rescue, and they poured water all over the dry shingles, while 
 the boys pumped or drew it from the wells. The large arbor was de- 
 molished to save the house. The fire did not cross the road, but sent 
 showers of sparks from the tree tops. Had this fire happened at night, 
 nothing could have saved me or my house. 
 
 Having heard of a good school in the bush, men of moderate means 
 bought land, built huts, and sent their children to school. They were 
 a more respectable class than the original inhabitants. Being me- 
 chanics, they worked in Sydney all the week, came to their bush 
 homes on Saturday, attended our preaching on Sunday, and sent their 
 children to Sunday-school. One Saturday a woman went to town to 
 meet her husband, to help him carry necessaries for the family, a
 
 492 THE STORY O:' AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 large one. When they came home they found their hut a heap of 
 ashes, all they had burned up, and the children all crying round the 
 ruins. The poor creatures had to be lodged, fed, and clothed. 
 I emptied my wardrobe of all and more than I could spare, that 
 could be made available to them. I wrote out a subscription paper, 
 walked to Sydney, presented it to my Baptist friends and others, 
 collected a considerable sum of money, and left the paper with a 
 friend to collect more. I came home and presented the poor people 
 with that which greatly cheered them. I had bundles of good clothing 
 sent to me for them, better than they had ever worn. A few weeks 
 more and they had a substantial frame house building, and when fin- 
 ished, it had windows, doors and floors, ceilings and chimneys; a 
 fine substitute for the hut that was burned. Their wardrobes were 
 better supplied than ever before. They told me that the fire to them 
 had been a great blessing in disguise. 
 
 The man who had so willingly given up his bed to me when Smith 
 turned me out of doors had a very good-looking wife, but she was a 
 passionate, high-tempered woman, unreasonable and exacting when in 
 a bad humor. While I was at their house I talked to them a good 
 deal about their souls' eternal interests. I read the Scriptures to them, 
 and advised them to accept of an offered Savior, which they seemed 
 willing to do. They attended the prayer and other meetings very reg- 
 ularly. They began to have family prayer, and were living very 
 happily together ; but in an evil hour she listened to the voice of the 
 tempter, who was the man that built a box for his daughter to sleep 
 in which I occupied when I left H 's. He was a very good-look- 
 ing man, but a coarse-minded, vulgar-tongued, burly fellow, whose 
 wife was a shrew. She never came to any but the tea meetings ; he 
 came to Sunday meetings. These two families were very intimate, and 
 both had kitchen gardens, and sold the produce, and when the litrie 
 
 man H would be away selling his vegetables, P would go up 
 
 to his garden and graft a tree or some other small job, ostensibly to 
 
 help Mrs. H , who worked in the garden; but that was not all he 
 
 did, for he tried to make the husband an object of ridicule to the 
 wife, and she listened till her heart was alienated from her kind, in- 
 dustrious, sober husband. She began to neglect her duties. When 
 
 P did not go to her garden, she would go to his house, and gossip 
 
 away her ifme, and would allow the vicious P to accompany her 
 
 through the forest gloom to her neglected home. She began to despise 
 her husband; she forsook the meetimrs. She had neither food nor fire
 
 TUZ NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 493 
 
 for her tired husband when he returned from town, but she demanded 
 the money he had collected. When he was on his knees praying she 
 would sit and laugh at him, and call her two children from their knees 
 to her. She would rattle dishes and do all she could to disturb her 
 long-bearing husband. The poor man was goaded to madness. He 
 told her to have it all her own way ; he would try another way, and 
 the money that he formerly put in her lap when he came home, he 
 left at the public house and came home intoxicated, and told her he 
 had given up prayer to please her; what more did she want? 
 
 "Money," she said. 
 
 "Then go and earn it," he rejoined. 
 
 They quarreled and fought, and P stood by and urged on the 
 
 combatants. This state of things could not last. I pitied poor H , 
 
 though I could not approve of his conduct. Mrs. H was reaping 
 
 the fruit of her bad conduct, and was getting the worst of it. Her 
 
 sympathizer and adviser was P , and he took a fiendish delight in 
 
 the ruin he had so far wrought ; but it was not yet complete. The 
 wretched woman came to me in her trouble; said she could not live 
 
 with H any longer; that she must leave him. I asked where she 
 
 would go, and what she would do? She smiled, and said: 
 
 "Oh, I can do better than stay to be beaten to death." 
 
 I told her she had brought it all on herself; that she drove a sober 
 man to drink, and had only herself to blame for the bad treatment she 
 
 received. I told her P had something to do in the affair. She 
 
 colored scarlet to the temples, and said : 
 
 "P is my friend; for he told me some things about H , and 
 
 I believed them." 
 
 "And so," I said, "broke up your once happy home to make it a 
 
 bedlam. No, Mrs. H , P is not your friend, or he never 
 
 would have polluted your ears with his vile whisperings, and you were 
 very bad to listen to him. In this you were not your own friend. 
 Turn away from that wicked man, for he is your enemy." 
 
 "No, no; he is unhappy himself, and told me if I would leave 
 
 H he would leave Mrs. P , and he would take me away far 
 
 from here, where he could work for me and be far kinder to me than 
 H was; for he loved me. So I told him I would go with him." 
 
 "Oh!" I exclaimed, "you horrify me. You blind, foolish woman, 
 have you no natural affection for your children, that you are willing to 
 sacrifice them and leave your comfortable home and your husband's 
 protection, and the respectability of his name, for what ? for the name
 
 494 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 of a married man's paramour who will soon tire of you, and return to 
 his wife and daughter, who will give him welcome and never care 
 where he has been. But, poor foolish woman, where will you be? 
 what will you be ? An abandoned outcast in a strange place — aban- 
 doned by the very man who lured you from your once respectable and 
 happy home. You can not earn your bread but by the lowest servi- 
 tude, and no respectable person will employ you. What then will 
 become of you ? Starvation staring you in the face, you will fly to 
 the streets. You will think of your husband, children and home, 
 all forsaken and now closed against you, and you in your mad misery 
 will commit the last act in the tragedy — self-murder. Before you 
 take the fatal step that will surely ruin you in time and in eternity, go 
 home and think of all I have said, and think whether the pleasure of 
 living with that bad man a few weeks be worth the sacrifice you intend 
 making. I shall pray to God that you may see your great peril and 
 flee from it while you have time. Remember that I am your true 
 friend." 
 
 A few days after the above conversation Mrs. H came to me 
 
 again, and told me that P had got everything ready, and she met 
 
 him by appointment ; but she told him she was afraid to go away from 
 home; she could never come back again. Whereupon he tried to 
 persuade her, but she held back ; then he swore at her for putting him 
 to so much trouble ; putting the whole responsibility of the disgraceful 
 acting upon her. They separated in no friendly or confidential mood. 
 They met again with the same result; he then swore enmity toward 
 her and hers from that time. With clasped hands and streaming eyes, 
 the poor woman cried : 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Davies, you have saved me. I know you have been 
 my friend. I can never thank you enough. I am so thankful I did 
 
 not run away from my home. I am sorry I treated H so bad. I 
 
 made him bad I know, and I fear he will never be good again, and 
 P swears that he will ruin us yet." 
 
 "Never mind P ," I said; "he has no power to hurt you if you 
 
 do not listen to him. Avoid him as you would a viper, and you have 
 nothing to fear. Your husband is of more importance. You drove 
 him to what he is by your bad conduct; now take as much trouble to 
 bring him back to what he was by kindness and attention to your duties. 
 He is worth gaining." 
 
 His reform was a speedy result of her altered treatment of him. 
 They once more attended prayer-meetings and preaching, and were a
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 495 
 
 united, happy family again; for H loved his home, wife and chil- 
 dren. Months passed, and again Mrs. H came to me in distress. 
 
 "Mrs. Davies, I am in great trouble, and I came to you to tell you 
 I must leave H ." 
 
 "Why; what new trouble is this? I thought you were perfectly 
 happy now." 
 
 "So we are, and that makes me so sorry to leave poor H . 
 
 What shall I do?" 
 
 "Tell me all about it, then I may be able to advise you." 
 
 She began: "When I was very young I was at service at , En- 
 gland. I was fond of company, and I married a sailor, who soon 
 went off to sea. I stayed at that place two years, but did not hear 
 
 from Jim, and I went to another place, where I met H , and 
 
 married him, and came to this colony. I did not know whether Jim 
 
 was alive, nor did I care ; but I never told H that I had been 
 
 married. Now I have received a letter from England from a friend 
 who says Jim is alive and has come back, and has been asking for me." 
 
 "Are you going to leave your husband and go to England to ask 
 Jim to live with you?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, no; but you told me that it was sin to live with another man 
 when your husband is alive. So if Jim is alive H is not my hus- 
 band, and I must leave him; but I shall go to service and earn an 
 
 honest living. I know I shall not be happy away from H and 
 
 the children ; but my conscience will not let me live with him. What 
 shall I do?" 
 
 "Go," I said," and tell H all you have told me, and see what 
 
 he says." 
 
 H came to me, a poor, illiterate man, but possessing a human 
 
 soul bigger than Napoleon's. He said ; 
 
 "I come to you for I know you are our best friend. You know 
 Mary is in great trouble, and she wants to go away, but I do not want 
 her to expose herself. I shall tell you what I propose doing to keep 
 her from leaving her home. I shall build me a sleeping-room near 
 the stable for myself, and she could just keep house for. herself and 
 children, and I could just have my meals with them or down in my 
 room, just as she liked, and I should work for tlieni just the same as 
 if I was living with them. She says her children are bastards, and 1 
 might marry somebody else, and they will be poor little beggars, all 
 through her. I told her I should never marry as long as she lived, 
 and any and all tlie property I had should be put in her name, to be
 
 496 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 divided between the two children. Mary wants to know what you 
 think of all this ? If you approve of my plan, nobody will know of 
 Mary's trouble but you and ourselves." 
 
 I told him I approved of all his plans, and thought him unselfish 
 and generous in the extreme. How different were Mary's plans for 
 
 H a few months before. I went to their house and talked the 
 
 matter over with them. I thought they were doing right to live apart; 
 but I told them I did not think Jim had any claim upon her; she had 
 
 been married eleven years to H , and had never heard from him. 
 
 I did not think he would trouble her now. I wrote to England to 
 inquire about Jim for them, and ascertained that Jim had been dead 
 
 for two or three years. Mrs. H thought her children illegitimate. 
 
 I thought she and H ought to be remarried. I took the trouble 
 
 to walk to Sydney, and consulted several ministers about the case. 
 They all thought a remarriage unnecessary. I went to the Registrar 
 General of the colony and consulted him. He asked if they had 
 been regularly married by a licensed minister. I said they had, for I 
 had seen the certificate. His advice was, that, seeing the first husband 
 was dead and no one but myself knew of their circumstances, a remar- 
 riage would do no good, but would prove to the world that the children 
 had been illegitimate, at least that their parents thought so. I went 
 to Mr. Voller, and told him I was going to send this couple to him, 
 not to remarry them, but for him to give them a little good advice ; to 
 have them shake hands and promise to be kind to each other as long 
 
 as they lived. This was done to the satisfaction of all. So H 
 
 broke up bachelor's hall, and was again reunited to his family, and a 
 very happy family they were now. All these things transpired without 
 
 the knowledge of the community. Mrs. H told H that I 
 
 had saved her from running away with P . She told him every- 
 thing, and was forgiven everything. They now began to improve 
 their dwelling-place ; windows and doors were added, and floors and 
 furniture. I took quite an interest in their well-being and improve- 
 ments. They both showed gratitude for my services. 
 
 Before I left America, I read in Darwin's Journal of Researches into 
 the natural history and geology of the countries which he visited in a 
 voyage round the world, his description of a valley named "The Weath- 
 erboard Falls" in the Blue Mountains, which so interested me that I 
 said, 
 
 "If ever I visit New South Wales again, I shall surely visit that 
 sunken valley."
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 497 
 
 I had been several years in New South Wales ere my cherished 
 wish was gratified. Though Count Strzelecki and Darwin have given 
 fine descriptions of the narrow chasms in the bosom of the Blue 
 Mountains, with gigantic sandstone walls around them, they have 
 failed to give an adequate conception of the grandeur and solemn gloom 
 of those vast solitudes. 
 
 I started from Sydney by train at 6.45 A. M., and reached the 
 Weatherboard Inn in four hours. It took Mr. Darwin two days to 
 reach the same place on horseback thirty-two years ago. Fifty years 
 before it took twenty days to travel the same distance, being sixty-one 
 miles from Sydney. Little thought Mr. Darwin when he said, noth- 
 ing but sharp necessity would bring him to live in this colony on ac- 
 count of its uninteresting aspect, what an improvement would take 
 place in so short a time. The chained prisoners that Mr. Darwin 
 did not like to see made good roads for horses to travel over, 
 and when their work had served its day, it gave place to a railway. 
 In the time past they had crossed the river Nepean on a boat. I 
 crossed nearly at the same place in a luxurious railway carriage over 
 a noble bridge, its beautiful proportions supported by massive stone 
 buttresses, heavy enough to resist the strongest flood. It is a splendid 
 work of art, and worthy of its talented builder. We approached the face 
 of the mountains, up which our iron horse had to pull us 3,000 feet. 
 He seemed to be gathering strength for his great effort, and then to 
 force his way up like a fierce war horse impatient for the fray. The 
 shrill whistle shrieked out at regular intervals; sometimes growing 
 hoarse, as if choking and breathless. As we were sweeping round 
 the face of the cliffs, we enjoyed the magnificent scenery below. In 
 the distance we saw an airy bridge, hung in mid-air as it were, but 
 when we crossed it we found it a very substantial viaduct, which 
 spanned a chasm of great depth and clasped two mountains together. 
 It was called Knapsack Gully Viaduct, and consisted of seven spans, 
 five of which were fifty feet, two twenty feet each. We reached the 
 Weatherboard Inn, the resting-place of both pedestrian and equestian 
 travelers of by-gone days. The walls of the inn were without windows 
 or doors. It gave shelter to one man, who lived alone in this dreary 
 solitude as station-master. Some slab huts were partly standing as 
 desolate pictures of the past. Mrs. Dixson and myself landed at the 
 temporary platform. A gentleman also landed, and as we three were 
 bound for the fall some distance from the inn, we took a boy as a 
 guide. We went down a litde valley lined with the most beautiful 
 32
 
 498 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 acacias peculiar to this spot. A haze Hke the blue smoke of a smol- 
 dering fire arrested my gaze. I called out, 
 
 "The country is on fire." 
 
 But not so. Our walk ended abruptly, and an immense gulf opened 
 to our view through the leafy screen that shaded our pathway. I was 
 amazed at the profound depth, 1,500 feet below the sandstone plateau 
 on which we stood. But to have a better view of the gloomy depths 
 we had to descend several yards of a very steep incline. This was 
 easily done, for rough steps had been cut in the rock for royal feet to 
 step on. Alfred, the sailor prince, had visited this place, and had 
 looked down into the yawning abyss from the lowest step. I went 
 down and stood on a shelf of rock overhanging this wild abyss, and 
 looked down over the vast precipice. The point on which I stood 
 was at the head of a large bay or gulf, the line of cliff diverging on 
 each side and showing headland after headland, as on a bold sea coast. 
 These are composed of horizontal strata of whitish sandstone, and are 
 so absolutely vertical, that when I threw a stone down we saw it go a 
 long distance straight down. I threw another out as far as I could; 
 we soon lost sight of it. I grew so excited I felt like jumping after 
 the stone to see where it went. Mrs. Dixson drew me back from the 
 edge. I took a more dangerous position. I was perfectly fascinated 
 with this new wonder. I felt that I could not hold this position long, 
 and I lay down full length, and put my head only over the dizzy edge, 
 a.nd looked down. I felt as if my head was slowly but surely drawing 
 my body over the fearful precipice. I shut my eyes, and crab-like 
 crawled away from the frightful fascination of the place. A rill came 
 rushing down beside us and made a mad leap over the precipice to a ter- 
 race, whirled round, and made another leap, forming a beautiful spark- 
 ling cascade, 1,200 or 1,400 feet deep. The last leap ended in spray. 
 On looking through a field-glass at one of the bold promontories that 
 formed so grand a picture in this majestic amphitheater, about five 
 miles in front of us was another line of cliff, extending so as to encir- 
 cle the gulf-like depression. Whether distance lent enchatment to the 
 view or imagination lent an ideal beauty to the scene, reason answers 
 not. So unbroken is the line of cliff that one would have to walk 
 twenty miles round to reach the little stream formed by the waterfall. 
 While we were waiting at the Weatherboard for the return of the train, 
 the few people who lived around were on the platform ; they seemed 
 to think that I was fond of flowers, for several presented me with rare 
 .rSpecimens gathered in the mountains. Having finished building,
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL-HOUSE. 499 
 
 fencing in the school premises, planting flowers and fruits, and having 
 paid for everything, and established a good school with a salary at- 
 tached, I thought I could now leave at the first opportunity. Others 
 could now carry on the work without extra labor or trouble, but rather 
 with comfort to themselves. But I reckoned without my host. 
 
 The American Consul told me that the long looked-for time had 
 arrived that I could return to the United States. A line of mail steam- 
 ers had been put on between Sydney and Panama. I went immedi- 
 ately to the shipping agent and bespoke a passage in the next month's 
 steamer. I told my old friend Mr. Dixson that at last I was about to 
 return to America. I had bespoken my passage for next month. He 
 said he was about to visit Europe, and he forthwith took passage for 
 himself and wife to Europe via Panama, saying we shall all go togeth- 
 er. He paid their passage and they made their preparations. 
 
 I went to the education department to tender my resignation, when 
 I was told that they could not spare me from the post I had so long 
 held, that no one at present could fill my place. A very important 
 bill on education had been brought into Parliament, and a certain class 
 of teachers must stand by their work till the bill passed, and I was one 
 of these. The bill set forth the importance of having but one Board 
 of Education instead of two, the National and the Denominational; 
 for they conflicted, were a double expense to Government, and the sys- 
 tems were defective. I was in the National Board's service, and they 
 said that no one of their efficient teachers could be spared till it was 
 settled which Board should conduct the education of the colony. 
 
 This bill created a great furor all over the colony; it concerned 
 every one. The members of Parliament were allowed to present peti- 
 tions from their constituents, stating which Board they preferred. 
 Mothers and daughters were allowed to send up petitions. This was 
 a new thing, but it was just, as the mothers had most to do with the 
 children, and no matter which Board led the van, they could frustrate 
 the efforts to educate, if they did not like the system, by keeping the 
 children from school. 
 
 The mind of all must be reached, and this was the plan. I had a 
 number of printed petitions given to me, and I went to every family, 
 far and near, and explained matters to them, and had them sign their 
 names to the paper they preferred. I carried, and presented a host of 
 names of both men and women to our member for the Nortli Shore, in 
 favor of the National Board. The bill passed, and the Council of Edu- 
 cation, under the Public School's Act, was appointed with the Hon.
 
 goo THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 (now Sir) Henry Parkes, Colonial Secretary, as its President. Mean- 
 time Mr. Dixson had sailed with one of his sons to America, instead 
 of his wife, who drew back because I could not go. Although I felt 
 flattered to be of the least consequence to Government in the cause of 
 education, and was convinced that it was my duty to remain at my post, 
 which I did, yet it was a very great disappointment to me to remain 
 when I saw Mr Dixson sail off. The high appreciation of my work, 
 by such high authorities as the gentlemen who constituted the National 
 Board, induced me to sacrifice my inclinations to the public good. 
 
 I had a letter from Mr. Campbell some time before he died, telling 
 me that he had received a letter from me, and it was to the family as 
 a resurrection from the dead. A ship had left Sydney bound for Lon- 
 don, in which I had intended to sail. She was wrecked in the English 
 Channel, and some luggage was found with initials resembling mine. 
 It was thought that I had perished beneath the stormy waters, and they 
 had mourned for me as one who had forever sunk from mortal view, 
 till the next month my letter told them my reasons for not sailing 
 in that ship, and my disappointment. They were glad to hear 
 from me. Twice I have been thought to have sunk with ships under 
 the wave to rise no more. Thanks to a kind, protecting Father, I still 
 live above water, though I have been several times disappointed in not 
 being able to sail for America. In the disappointments has been my 
 salvation. I tried to look on disappointments as blessings in disguise. 
 
 I had more books and letters from the American Bible Union. I 
 wrote to them, to say that I had my time so fully occupied, that I could 
 do no more for them. I gave them the balance of the money that I 
 had left with them, $90.00, and wished all prosperity to the Union.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 
 
 A Captain H , a ship-master, bought land near me, built a good 
 
 house upon it, planted an orchard and vineyard, and purposed to 
 reside here when he returned from sea. He changed his mind, sold 
 his property to a respectable tradesman, who had a large family, and 
 who was induced to buy because a good school was in the neighbor- 
 hood. This and several other families were quite an acquisition to the 
 place. Mr. and Mrs. B asked what they should name their place. 
 
 "Bethphage, near to Bethany," I said, and very soon both of us had 
 the names of our respective places painted in big letters over our doors. 
 
 Mr. Moses, of lUawarra, whom I had nursed through a severe ill- 
 ness, never forgot to be grateful. He had bought a large farm at Wing- 
 scarribee, on the South Table Land, and moved his family to it. He 
 had built a comfortable house, and the family were prospering. Long 
 before the time they would ask me to come up to their high plateau, 
 and spend my Easter, midwinter and Christmas holidays with them. 
 One Christmas time we had a great drought. Our wells and creeks 
 went dry, and the high hot winds fanned our faces as with the breath 
 of a furnace. The sun scorched and burned up all vegetation, and 
 there was no rain to cool or moisten the parched earth. The cry 
 everywhere was, ''water, water," cattle dying for want of it. Oh, 
 what a blessing is water, if we are not flooded as we often are. All 
 were suffering for want of water. I went up to the Wingscarribee to 
 spend the Christmas holidays, and breathe a cool mountain breeze, and 
 have some cool fresh water to drink ; but, alas, I found the Winchy in 
 a deplorable condition, as well as the low lands; everything parched 
 up, and fires running all over the country. It was a distressing time. 
 
 Mrs. Moses, her eldest son and myself started to church on Sunday 
 after Christmas. We had some distance to walk, and when we were 
 about halfway, Edward stood still, and listened, and said: 
 
 "Mother, I hear a running fire; the wind is blowing the hissing 
 sound toward our house; I shall go back." 
 
 He went back, but we Avent on to church. We passed a fium wliere 
 they had .secured the wheat in barns, and their stacks and their build- 
 
 (501)
 
 502 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ings from fire, by having cleared and burned a large space all around 
 them, over which the fire could not run. On we went a little farther, 
 when we heard a rushing mighty noise. On our right a few feet from 
 us the grass seemed to be a sea of fire, and the waves of flame were 
 rushing past us, licking up everything that was in their way. The cur- 
 rent, that was driving this destroying element before it, seemed to be 
 but a few yards wide; but the velocity with which it flew on its mission 
 of destruction was terrific. The school-house, in which the Church-of- 
 England services were conducted, stood on a hill, round which the 
 
 fiery current ran. Mrs. M became so anxious about her house, 
 
 seeing so much fire run toward it, that she went home ere the services 
 began. The catechist said he would take me home after services. As 
 the services proceeded, the wind blew higher, and the sparks fell 
 through the cracked and broken roof in several places; some fell 
 into my lap. When the services v/ere over, and we came out, the 
 whole country seemed to be on fire, and the heat was intense. We 
 watched the progress of the fire from this point, which seemed to be 
 out of the current. I feared to walk home, but delay was dangerous. 
 We started on our way. 
 
 "We have a hot road to travel," Mr. W said. 
 
 *Tt will be well if we can walk through the fire and not be burned," 
 I said. 
 
 The fire was now raging everywhere. The cedar road on which we 
 walked was covered with burning timber; the branches of the trees 
 interlacing at the top overhead formed arches of fire, under which we 
 passed. The forests were heavily timbered, and the farmers, to clear 
 the land, girdled many of the trees. These took fire, and burned to 
 the base with a loud and crackling noise, and the heavy branches fell 
 across the road. We had literally to walk through the fire. The 
 grass, as far as the eye could reach, was all burned up. My arms were 
 scorched through the thin woolen jacket I had on; my face was pro- 
 tected by a thick veil, yet it was scorched; my feet were burned 
 through my boots. I could hardly breathe, the hot air was so suffo- 
 cating. At one clear spot I halted in my hot race, to take breath and 
 gather up my skirts, as piles of burning brush and timber lay across my 
 
 path. Mr. W walked on before me. He turned round, and saw 
 
 me standing, and shouted : 
 
 "For God's sake, hurry!" 
 
 I darted toward him, and before I could ask a question, I was an- 
 swered by a tremendous burning branch falling from a great height
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 503 
 
 down on the very spot where I had stood. One end penetrated the 
 ground, and it stood like a great lighted torch. I shuddered as it sent 
 a shower of sparks out all around it. The wind was blowing fiercely. 
 On we ran through the burning forest; my woolen jacket was scorched, 
 and my silk dress alone saved my clothes from all taking fire. I stood 
 in front of the farm I had noticed in the morning so well protected 
 from fire, but where were the house, barns, wheat, hay-stacks and out- 
 houses? Alas! they had been protected from a running fire, but noth- 
 ing could protect them from a flying fire. The lighted branches of the 
 tall trees were carried on the wings of the wind, and rested on top of 
 the hay-stacks and housetops, and in less than half an hour the wind 
 had carried away the burned remains of all that had been a fine farm. 
 And not even the ruins or ashes remained to tell the tale of destruction. 
 Again my guide shouted: 
 
 "Hurry on!" 
 
 I did so, but did not clearly escape. The great crown of a burning 
 tree fell, and scattered its branches in every direction. I was nearly 
 smothered in the sparks and smoke. I could not speak for some time, 
 but there was no standing still; we must, if possible, get to cleared 
 ground, or be roasted alive. I was nearly exhausted. I had gone be- 
 yond my strength, but life was in the balance; I struggled on. Two 
 trees had fallen from either side of the road, and lay burning, and 
 blocking up the way with an impassable wall of fire. One of the trees 
 had fallen over a fence, and set it on fire. I clambered over the burn- 
 ing fence, and was now in a field clear of underbrush; but every tree in 
 the field, and there were many, standing at regular distances, was crowned 
 with fire. We were nearly within sight of the house, when I saw a cloud 
 of smoke rise from where the house stood, I thought it was gone, and 
 
 I could go no farther; I was exhausted. Mr. W was not much 
 
 better; but he went to the house for help, and he and Edward Moses 
 helped me to the house almost unconscious. The house was safe, and 
 full of people, whose houses were burned. Every family that was 
 burned out would flee to the next house for shelter, and help tlie peo- 
 ple to save their house if possible; but if it took fire, they would run 
 to another. Men were on top of every building on the farm sweejMng 
 the burning twigs off, and keeping wet ciuilts and blankets on the roofs. 
 Thus their house was saved. 
 
 My host and hostess were greatly concerned at my condition. My 
 face, arms, hands and feet were badly blistered; my jacket was burned; 
 my silk dress riddled into holes, and my boots burned to crisp. They
 
 504 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 wondered at my ever reaching the house at all. There was too much 
 to be done, too many to be attended to without and within, to allow 
 them to give me so much attention as they were giving. So I took a 
 seat on the veranda, and sat quietly watching the progress of the fire 
 till long after midnight. As the shades of night gathered round, the 
 wind began to lull; but a fitful blast would now and then tell us that 
 the storm-spirit was still abroad. I had a most extensive view, from 
 where I sat, of a basin-shaped valley of considerable extent, surrounded 
 by a rim of high hills crowned with gum trees. The basin itself was 
 enclosed forest land. All the trees, trunks and stumps, the very earth 
 to the grass roots, fences, and everything that could burn, were ablaze. 
 Some of the giant trees were hollow, and all on fire inside, and when 
 a branch would fall from a huge trunk, a jet of flame would shoot out 
 from the trunk through the opening like a great flambeau. The 
 ground of this valley was like a surging sea of fire. When a fierce gust 
 of wmd would sweep across the valley, the tree trunks, standing like 
 pillars of fire pointing to heaven, would send forth myriads of sparks, 
 and the whole atmosphere was seemingly alight with blazing meteors. 
 Had I seen a picture of this scene, I should have admired it beyond 
 description; but it was too terribly real for admiration. One poor 
 woman was with difficulty brought to this house for shelter. All that 
 she saved from the fire were in her arms, two little children. Her two 
 cows were roaring and running mad, with the fire roasting tliem alive. 
 I saw several poor cows with tails and hoofs burned off, and their ud- 
 ders also burnt. Oh, it was pitiful to hear the poor dumb animals, as 
 they ran frantically through the fire, neighing, lowing, grunting and 
 howling, as they were being roasted alive. About midnight a great 
 number of people sought shelter on this height. There was no room 
 for them in the house, but they could breathe a cooler air. I heard 
 one man say, 
 
 "Oh, how thankful I am that my wife and children are saved, 
 though I have lost everything besides." 
 
 Here was a crowd of men, women and children, all thankful for per- 
 sonal preservation, though they were homeless and penniless. It was 
 a terrible time. These poor people had run from farm to farm, from 
 house to house, some of them for eight weeks. The fire had been rag- 
 ing all that time. When the devouring element had licked up all 
 before it, a bleak and black domain was left behind. Starvation 
 seemed to be the fate awaiting many of these poor creatures. My 
 host had twice been burnt out before this conflagration ; so his prem-
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 505 
 
 ises were in no danger from running fire, and there was not so much 
 tall timber near as formerly. He kept open house for all who came. 
 This part of the Great Southern Plateau is heavily timbered, and the 
 running fires will clear the land for farmers; but many a rich man will 
 be impoverished, and many a poor one ruined, ere the sweeping pro- 
 cess shall have accomplished its work. This district is also subject to 
 floods in the rainy season, and heavy fogs in all seasons. Floods, 
 fires and fogs are the characteristics of the place. It will be in years 
 to come a spendid country. 
 
 I left it on New Year's Day without having had a breath of cool 
 mountain breeze. I mounted a powerful horse, and had a five hours' 
 ride through a dark and dreary country, blackened by fire, to the rail- 
 way station. I took the cars, and reached Sydney in safety. 
 
 At this time great excitement prevailed in the colony, on account of 
 our sailor prince having visited our shores. The preparations to receive 
 the royal visitor were on a scale commensurate with the wealth and 
 loyality of the colonists. My school had the honor of being invited to 
 take part in the proceedings on the day of his public reception. I 
 transcribe the form of invitation : 
 
 Madam: — In accordance with the instruction from the Prince Albert Reception 
 Commission, I beg to acquaint you that arrangements detailed below have been 
 decided upon for the conduct of the schools expected to take part in the proceed- 
 ings, on the occasion of the landing of His Royal Highness. 
 
 1. The schools will assemble in the outer domain not later than eleven o'clock, 
 on the morning of Wednesday, the 22d instant. 
 
 2. At that time they will form, and proceed in procession to the inner domain 
 in the following order. (Here followed the order.) 
 
 3. The different schools will be furnished with small flags bearing numbers. 
 
 4. The places of the schools in the inner domain will be denoted by corres- 
 ponding numbers. 
 
 5. The arrangements for singing the national anthem have been entrusted to 
 Mr. Fisher. * ♦ » * The principal teachers are requested to meet in the 
 outer domain on Friday, at half past one P. M., when the places of the different 
 schools will be pointed out. 
 
 I remain, madam, your most obedient servant, 
 
 W. WlI.KINS. 
 
 Council of Education Department, Switi^^ , Januaty jj, 1S6S. 
 
 On the 2ist of January, Prince Alfred's ship was conducted into Port 
 Jackson by two long lines of steamers, one on each side, and other 
 vessels and yaf;hts with all their flags flying. Every vessel in the harbor 
 had her best bunting unfurled. Cannons belched forth their thunder.
 
 5o6 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Music in softer sti:tins sent forth her notes of joy. All things afloat in 
 the harbor did royal honor to their sailor prince. Next day, amid the 
 greatest enthusiasm, the representative of our noble Queen Victoria 
 landed in Sydney His reception by the members of Parliament in 
 their court dresses, and the civic authorities in their velvet robes, under 
 a triumphal arch artistically decorated, was very imposing. His tri- 
 umphal march through the city, and entry on Government Domain, 
 were grand beyond anything Sydney had ever seen. At night the city 
 and all the harbor were splendidly illuminated. The public festivities 
 and celebrations and rejoicings continued many days. The colonists 
 were showing their loyalty to their sovereign lady. Queen Victoria, in 
 the person of her son, whom she sent to represent her. He was feted, 
 and feasted, and carried everywhere. A picnic on a grand scale was 
 arranged for the benefit of the Sailors' Home. The prince consented 
 to be present. He had gained in a very short time the affections of all 
 the people by his frank, modest manners. Our prince and suite, the 
 Earl of Belmore, our new governor and suite, went down the magnifi- 
 cent harbor in boats, prepared for them, to Clon Tarf, a beautiful inlet, 
 where they landed on a most romantic spot to hold high holiday. 
 Everybody was full of joy and gladness, because they had a son of 
 their beloved queen among them. The morning dawned all glori- 
 ously, happiness and harmony reigned throughout. But, alas! the 
 evening ended in gloom. The crime of a dastardly assassin filled every 
 heart with horror. The prince was crossing the lawn after lunch, to 
 go to the place where his own band was discoursing sweet music. He 
 was frank and confiding, and feared no evil. He was in the act of 
 handing a check to Sir W. Manning for the Sailors' Home. The report 
 of a pistol was heard; a bullet entered the body of the prince, and he 
 fell to the ground with the exclamation, 
 
 "Great G— d, I am shot." 
 
 A Fenian had stepped from the crowd within three feet of his vic- 
 tim, and from behind aimed at the heart of the unsuspecting prince. 
 The ball entered the body just as the prince was turning round to hand 
 the check to Sir William, which caused the ball to slide round a rib 
 and lodge in the chest, not in the heart as was intended. At the 
 report of the pistol and the cry of the prince as he fell, the scene was 
 changed. Consternation and horror filled the happy hearts of the 
 vast concourse. A man from the mass sprang upon the assassin and 
 held him hard and fast until assistance came. Meanwhile, the das- 
 tardly coward fired again at the wounded prostrate prince as he was
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 507 
 
 being borne to his tent. The ball missed the intended victim and 
 entered the foot of a gentleman who stood near. If all the evil spirits of 
 pandemonium had been let loose, and had entered the people, their rage 
 could not have been greater. Lawyers and law-makers forgot their dig- 
 nity, and laid violent hands upon the Fenian. They tore his clothes, 
 plucked his hair and battered his body. It took the mounted police, 
 backed by the government, to rescue the criminal from the infuriated 
 populace. He was dragged on board a steamer, put in chains and con- 
 veyed to prison. Pity for the prince, and horror at the atrocious at- 
 tempt at his life, and hatred of the assassin, threw both ladies and gen- 
 tlemen into a furor from that time. The unhappy criminal paid the 
 penalty of his crime on the gallows, and the prince, contrary to all ex- 
 pectations, recovered after several weeks' illness, and went home to give 
 an account of perils by sea and perils by land, and from a false subject. 
 
 The colonics got up another furor— a loyal madness. They wanted 
 to collect ;^ioo,ooo ($500,000), for the purpose of building a memo- 
 rial hospital in honor of the prince, and in gratitude for his preserva- 
 tion. All were expected to give, whether rich or poor, to the Prince 
 Alfred Hospital, or be suspected of disloyalty to the queen, her family 
 and the government. 
 
 I read about that time an appeal for Bethany College, and for the 
 endowment of the "Campbell Biblical Institute." It began: "A 
 word for all who love the memory and work of A. Campbell in the 
 United States and British America." It reached farther than the pre. 
 scribed limits; it reached me in my Bethany bush home, and touched 
 a responsive chord. I had as far as I was able shown my loyalty to 
 ■ my earthly sovereign ; now I felt constrained to show my loyalty to 
 my heavenly Sovereign. I sent the price of a summer suit — $25 — to 
 help build up a memorial institute for Prince Jesus. If we were all 
 as much afraid of being suspected of disloyalty to the King of the 
 Universe and his Son as the colonists were in regard to their sovereign 
 and her son, we would soon endow such institutions. 
 
 In September of 1868, late one night, I placed my lamp on a chair, 
 sat down on a stool, taking my much-loved Harbinger yv\\'\Q\\ I had just 
 received in my hand, and prepared for a long night's reading. I was 
 very intent on my reading, when I felt something crawling round my 
 ankle and over my instep. It was cold and pricking. I raised the 
 hem of my robe, and there, to my disgust and horror, I saw a mon- 
 strous centipede crawling over my naked foot. I did not scream or 
 move till the reptile had left my foot \ then I jumped up and laid hold
 
 5o8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 of my boot with the intent to kill it, but it had vanished from my sight. 
 It was a hideous thing, eight or ten inches long. We saw them some- 
 times eighteen inches long. After this interruption, I sat down again 
 and read till after midnight, amid the most unnatural silence. The 
 winds were asleep, not a leaf rustled, not an insect's wing was in 
 motion — all was silent as the grave. A feeling of awe crept over me 
 as I sat. The deathlike silence was at last broken by the sound of 
 horses' hoofs rushing down the road through my gateway and into my 
 inclosure. Their heavy tramping shook the house, and the curtains 
 of my bed trembled in front of me. I jumped to my feet and looked 
 out of my window, but all was blackness without and silence as before. 
 I thought it very strange to have so many horses in the inclosure, and 
 not here a sound from one of them. I sat down after this second 
 interruption, but I did not feel comfortable. I could not read any 
 more. I knelt down and again asked my heavenly Father to protect 
 me through the silence and darkness of this strange night. I put my 
 light out and was just stepping into bed, when a trampling sound louder 
 than before shook the house. This time, without thought, I ran through 
 and out of the house into the back yard, and peered into the darkness 
 and listened, but not a sound could I hear and nothing could I see. I 
 found my way back to bed, but could not sleep. It seemed a long night. 
 I arose at the dawn of day. Mr. Clark and his son, each in his own 
 room, happened to be up reading very late that night. They both heard 
 the noise and felt the shaking. The rector at once pronounced it earth- 
 quake. Had I known that an earthquake wave had passed over the earth 
 that night, I do not know that my feelings would have been improved. 
 In my holiday trips I was always gathering information concerning 
 the history, natural history, geography and geology of New South 
 Wales. These were pleasant trips among the mountains. I gave my 
 school an object lesson on kerosene oil, but I took a trip of over one 
 hundred miles to see where the shale was obtained, and how con- 
 verted into oil. I visited the Bulli coal mines, to see how they com- 
 pared with the English mines. In New South Wales you do not go 
 down a steep shaft as in England, but through the mountains. These 
 mines are not liable to flooding, or fire-damp or choke-damp. My 
 
 friend Mr. S , whom I was visiting, gave me his beautiful drab 
 
 mare to ride, and she was a beauty, swift as a gazelle, and sure-footed 
 as a chamois. On going to the mines one beautiful morning, our road 
 lay along the ridge of a mountain. There were two ways to reach the 
 top of the ridge; one was a long circuitous one, the other was a climb
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 509 
 
 over the face of the mountain, which was very steep, with natural steps 
 in the rocks. I was asked which road I would take. 
 
 "The steep one," I said. 
 
 "Then dismount," said Mr. S , and he came to help me. 
 
 I asked for what I was to dismount ? 
 
 "To climb the hill and lead your horse up," he said. 
 
 "Can she climb that hill?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 "Then she shall carry me up." 
 
 "No lady has ever ridden up that hill, and but few gentlemen care 
 to attempt it." 
 
 The little beauty faced the hill bravely, and as she stood nearly up- 
 right on her hind feet, with her fore feet on a shelf of rock, and was 
 ready to spring up, I put my arms round her neck. She steadily climbed 
 
 until she reached the top. Mr. S led his horse up, saying he did 
 
 not wish to risk his neck. We had a splendid ride, surrounded by 
 beautiful scenery, till we reached the mines. Space will not allow a 
 description of them. 
 
 Our village went on improving. I had my cottage neatly furnished, 
 and all my neighbors copied in a measure, so that their houses began 
 
 to look decent. Two of my night scholars got married. John R 
 
 (one of my body-guard) built a neat little cottage and brought home a 
 bride. He was respectably employed at Sydney, and came home 
 every night. His sister married and settled in our midst. Our schools 
 and meetings were well attended. We had now a Municipal Council, 
 who improved the old roads and made new ones, and taxed the people 
 to pay for them, which they .did in labor, and really made their own 
 roads. We had no lack of visitors now that we had good roads. I 
 
 had several distinguished visitors from Adelaide: Mr. M , Mr. 
 
 and Mrs. M , Mr. and Mrs. Earl, our first American evangelist 
 
 to Australia. He had married one of Mr. M 's lovely nieces, and 
 
 paid our colony a visit. Had he prolonged his visit he could have 
 done much good. He showed how a man of education and polished 
 manners could make his way into the hearts of the people. After a 
 while the Sydney people sent to America for an evangelist for them- 
 selves. 
 
 In January, 1869, on the eighty-first birthday of the colony, all the 
 people were out of doors keeping holiday. A large number, myself 
 among them, went to the Blue Mountains. Our great iron horse, 
 strong and powerful as he was, seemed to have hard work to draw
 
 5IO THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 behind him up the zigzag such a long train of cars. There were a 
 great number of day and Sunday-schools, teachers, parents and 
 strangers, about a thousand in all. We had a second powerful engine 
 fastened behind the train to push it forward. We stopped on top of 
 the plateau at Wascoe's Tank. Here the excursionists left the train 
 and went to the picnic ground. I allowed them all to file past me. 
 When they disappeared and were enjoying themselves in their own 
 way, I sat down to ruminate on the past, present and future of this 
 wonderful country, and to enjoy myself in my own way. Not a living 
 thing but an old horse grazing near was to be seen. How small and 
 insignificant I felt among the everlasting hills on a bold promontory 
 overlooking the mighty ocean. Truly the works of the Lord are 
 great. "O Lord, how manifold are thy works? In wisdom hast 
 thou made them all." But here come two stalwart navvies who have 
 helped to cut pathways through mountains, to throw stately bridges 
 across the rivers and to intersect the land with railroads. It occurred 
 to me that navvies are like sailors, a neglected, hard-working class of 
 men. None seemed to care for their souls. I went to them when I 
 saw them stand still, and I asked them to give me information about 
 certain rivers, certain bridges, etc. I asked them their names and 
 nationality. Christian Willis was a Dane, and Samuel Johnson was 
 an Englishman. I introduced Christ to them, and they seemed inter- 
 ested in what I said. Johnson shed tears, and said he was well 
 brought up, but had gone astray, and went farther and farther away 
 from the right, and was now working hard among the navvies. No 
 one had ever spoken to him of his soul's salvation since he had been 
 among them. I spoke to the Dane of his country-woman, who was 
 our much-loved Princess of Wales. She had left her own country to 
 live in a foreign land, but the same God took care of her in the land 
 of strangers as in her own land; and if they loved and feared God 
 they could worship him among these mountains as well as in temples 
 made with hands in their own countries. We had quite a long con- 
 versation. I hoped to do them good; I became interested in them. 
 The train was heard in tlie distance, the excursionists returned, all 
 went aboard the cars, and down we went with a sweep, and arrived 
 in Sydney in safety after a pleasant day among the mountains. 
 
 As soon as I reached home I made up a package of books and 
 tracts, and sent it with the following note to the navvies:
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 5II 
 
 Dear Friends : — You will find in this little package a few interesting books, some 
 tracts and two copies of the four gospels, a new edition. I hope you will read 
 them all with care, and treasure the contents in your hearts, and practice them 
 in your lives. "Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life." 
 Keep the Testaments, but when you have read the other books and tracts, send 
 them along the line that others may also read. 
 
 Your well-wisher, Eliza Davies. 
 
 To Samuel lohnson and Christian Willis, Navvies, Wascoes Tank. 
 
 These two navvies sent me a letter of grateful thanks for the kind 
 interest I had shown in them. They promised to read and to try to 
 practice the precepts found in the books. There are some people who 
 think that the poor, hard-working navvies have no souls, no hearts, no 
 feelings, but those of the brutes. As a rule, sailors and navvies are 
 careless and reckless men, but show them that you have their 
 interest at heart, and they feel grateful. Warn them, persuade them, 
 entreat them to escape from the tyranny of the Prince of darkness, by 
 yielding their hearts to Jesus, whose name is love, and you will find 
 your reward in good time. There were hundreds of navvies away 
 among the mountains, piercing them and leveling* them, raising the 
 low places, laying rails, and building viaducts and bridges. Their 
 lives were ever in peril, working for those who profited by their labor, 
 and who cared no more for them than if they had been beasts. I was 
 at the house of the engineer, Mr. Whitton, one evening, when I asked 
 him which was the most direct route to where pioneer navvies were at 
 work ; I wished to see them. 
 
 "If that is your object," said Mr. W , "come with me when I 
 
 make up a party, and we shall all enjoy ourselves far better than you 
 can by going alone." 
 
 ' 'Were I to go with you the navvies would be on their best be- 
 havior; I wish to see them just as they are at work every day." 
 
 "Do not be foolish enough to go among the wild, drunken, swear- 
 ing navvies; they will insult you. Pray do not go. What do you 
 want of them?" said Mr. W . 
 
 "I wish nothing of them. I wish to carry a message to them, and 
 I feel assured that they will not insult me when they know that I have 
 their interest at heart. Will you tell me how to get there?" I said. 
 
 "There is no way to get to them at all; let me dissuade you from 
 the attempt," said Mr. W . 
 
 I had made up my mind to go if I could reach them. 
 
 March 29, 1869. I had a week's holiday, it being Easter, and I
 
 512 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 took a trip to the Mount Victoria, Lithgow Valley and Govett's Leap. 
 The rail is finished no farther than One Tree Hill, which is on Mount 
 Victoria. I went to what was said to be the best hotel. I hired a 
 boy, buggy and horse to take me to Govett's Leap, one of the great 
 sunken valleys. Jehu's driving was nothing to the boy's who drove 
 me. He made the young, fresh blood-horse leap and bound over 
 holes and hillocks in a way that endangered not only the buggy-springs, 
 but our necks. I asked, as gently as I could between the jolts, why 
 the necessity of driving so furiously? He said: 
 
 "No danger. The horse is only fresh because he has been up in 
 the stable feeding on corn with nothing to do. Several buggies have 
 been hired out this week, but no one would take this horse but you." 
 
 I did not choose the horse. I had no choice offered me. He tried 
 to compliment me by letting me know that I had a breakneck horse 
 and a reckless driver. I told him I had no desire to be killed, and to 
 be more careful. The sandstone plateau we were on rose 3,400 feet 
 above the sea. Govett's Leap is about an hour's drive from the hotel. 
 This is one of the most remarkable sunken valleys in the Blue Moun- 
 tains. It had been one of the great obstacles in the way of crossing 
 the mountains. When I alighted from the buggy my limbs trembled 
 so that I could scarcely stand. Between the long ride on the cars and 
 the rough buggy ride I was illy prepared to explore the sublime depths 
 of that gulf. From the spot on which we stood I could not see the 
 bottom of the valley. I asked my guide if there was no place from 
 which I could see it. He said there was a pathway cut out in the 
 face of the cliff on which we stood, and he led the way down. The 
 narrow path turned an acute angle, zigzag fashion, and led to a huge 
 sandstone pillar, which seemed to be joined to the chff by a high, 
 narrow wall, on top of which we walked till we reached the pillar-like 
 projection. On this I stood and gazed with the most profound awe 
 on the stupendous and magnificent scene that lay before, beneath and 
 around me. My head reeled and my limbs trembled. I turned my 
 back on the scene, so terrific in its grandeur, and told the guide to 
 lead the way up the cliff. It had rained in the morning, and the grass 
 and tall reeds were very wet, which made both descent and ascent 
 difficult and dangerous. The long, wet grass served more than one 
 purpose. It lay across the narrow path, saturated my clothes, en- 
 tangled my feet, and gave me something to hold by in the difficult 
 ascent. When I reached the acute angle my feet were completely 
 bound round by my long, wet dress and the wet grass, so that I could
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 513 
 
 not move a step up or around the angle. I held on to the grass with 
 my hands for dear Hfe. I dared not look down ; the perpendicular 
 depth was more than 1,500 feet. I stood on a point between life and 
 death. I called to the guide to return; he had gone on and out of 
 sight. He soon returned, stood on a ledge above rae and gave me his 
 hand. I felt a sense of strength now while I disentangled my feet, 
 gathered up my dress, and took the one step up and around, and was 
 on the path with the guide ; but I told him not to let my hand go, or 
 I should fall backwards. I felt secure as long as I felt his grip of iron. 
 I had lost the power to hold on; I was nearly paralyzed. I ought not 
 to have dared the dangerous descent, but such places have a deep 
 interest for me. I can not resist the temptation to explore when op- 
 portunity offers. Before leaving the spot the guide told me of a thrill 
 ing scene which transpired a short time before my visit. Three young 
 men had visited this place, and in their desire to hear if a stone could 
 reach the bottom, for they knew they could not see it, they took levers 
 and began to pry a detached piece of rock of about two hundred 
 weight which lay near the edge of the cliff. One of the levers broke, 
 throwing the young man who held it forward on the rock, when both 
 he and the rock were hurled over the cliff. But strange to tell, the 
 orchids which grew from the sides of the cliff entangled him in a net 
 as it were, and held him fast in mid-air till assistance was rendered by 
 letting down ropes from above. He was saved almost by a miracle. 
 I gazed upon the spot of this thrilling adventure, and then turned 
 away. 
 
 On reaching the railway depot, which was not far from the hotel, I 
 dismounted to see a train start to Sydney. On the platform stood a 
 gang of fourteen criminals, chained two and two, by their hands and 
 feet. They were an ill-looking set of desperadoes. They were fero- 
 cious, brutish and scowling. They were bushrangers, whose trade 
 was rapine and murder. This region was infested by such men, but 
 an effective corps of mounted troopers were on their trail, and the 
 ^ number was growing less. These fourteen were going to their sure 
 doom. 
 
 Sunday morning I was awakened at early dawn by hearing a slight 
 noise at my bed's head. It grew louder, as if a door opened. I rose 
 up, and called, 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 I was startled and greatly alarmed at the sudden appearance and 
 
 33
 
 514 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LITE. 
 
 disappearance of a man's head and shoulders at a door at my bed's 
 head, not the one by which I entered the room. I laid my head on 
 my pillow, but not to sleep. I thought of the ferocious bushrangers I 
 had seen the day before, and I could not rest. I arose and made my 
 toilet. I called for the lady of the house, and told her that my room 
 had been entered by a man, who must have had a key to the door, or 
 it had been left open for him ; in either case I did not feel that the 
 house was safe to lodge in. She said : 
 
 "Madam, you need have no fear; I have heard of the invasion of 
 your room by the gentleman who entered it. He has been at this 
 house for his health for some time, and his room is at the back of the 
 house, and to save him a long walk round, we have allowed him to 
 come through that room for a near cut to the front of the house; and 
 not knowing it was occupied, he was about to pass through as usual, 
 when he was greatly alarmed at hearing a lady's voice, and ran back 
 very much annoyed at not having been told the room was occupied. 
 It was a very great neglect not having fastened the door, but such a 
 thing shall not happen again." 
 
 I accepted the explanation. 
 
 At Mount Victoria is the famous Pass of the Blue Mountains, beyond 
 which for many miles the navvies were at work, and many of them 
 had left their families this side of the pass. As it was Lord's day, and 
 there was no church of any kind to go to, I took from my carpet bag 
 several packages of tracts, and sallied forth on my mission of distrib- 
 uting them. I went from hut to hut, asking the people if they would 
 like to read a little book, or a few tracts. Many received my proffered 
 kindness gladly, and not only promised to read them, but would give 
 them to others to read. A few refused them. 
 
 I knocked at the door of one hut, where were several girls, some 
 nearly grown. I asked them if they could read, and if so, would they 
 read some tracts and books I offered them. Their faces lit up pleas- 
 antly as they were about to take them. A window shutter at my side 
 opened very suddenly, and a woman's head protruded. She cried out 
 in a shrill tone, 
 
 "We don't want your cursed books or tracts; do you think I don't 
 know what the likes of you want giving us them things to read? You 
 mean to convert us from the true church. We want none of them 
 things to read; so be off with you, or I'll" . 
 
 But I did not hear what she intended to do, for I stood perfectly still, 
 and looked at her, and she stopped short in the threat. I said to her :
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 
 
 "I have asked a very civil question, and being a woman, I expected 
 a civil answer." 
 
 I told her she had a perfect right to refuse taking my books and 
 cracts, but she might have used civil language in so domg. I certainly 
 iiad no idea of forcing her to accept of what had cost me money, and 
 I had carried them a long distance. I was willing to give to those who 
 were willing to receive, on condition that they would read them. I 
 felt better pleased, however, to have a person refuse to take them, who 
 did not intend to read them, ^han to take them, and throw them into 
 the fire, or otherwise destroy them. There are many poor people glad 
 to have something to read; so I am pleased that you refused them, as 
 you had no wish to read. I wished her good morning. This was the 
 only uncivil rebuff that I had. I distributed a great many publica- 
 tions, and had many pleasant chats with the bark-hut inhabitants. On 
 my return to the hotel, many hours after the stormy encounter with the 
 Papist woman, one of the girls was out on the road watching for me, 
 and very politely asked me to go into their hut; her mother had sent 
 her to ask me to come in. I was pleasandy surprised to see such a 
 change in the woman's manner. She apologized for her rudeness of 
 the morning, and the girls thought I must be tired with my long walk, 
 and would need some refreshment; so they had made me a nice hot 
 cake and a cup of good tea. I was pleased to sit down by a little table 
 covered with a clean cloth, and partake of what had been so kindly 
 prepared for me. They all seemed to try to make me forget the morn- 
 ing's proceedings. The woman explained that the priest had warfted 
 them, on pain of his curses, not to read anything that heretics offered 
 to them, for all their books were bad and dangerous, and were all in- 
 tended to take them from the true church. 
 
 "Oh, it is dreadful," she said; "but the girls want to read something 
 of what you offered them this morning, and I will not hinder them to 
 read, if you will be so kind as to give them something." 
 
 I said I would give them books and tracts with pleasure, if they 
 would read them, and send them round ^o be read by others. The 
 girls readily promised, and seemed glad to have something to read. 
 The woman began to talk in the most exalted terms of Mary, the 
 Mother of God. When she found that I had great respect for the 
 mother of our Lord Jesus, she listened the more earnestly to what I 
 said about Christ. The girls seemed to be thirsting for the water of 
 life, and drank in every word I said. I left them with a prayer, that
 
 Sl€ THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 what I said might lead them to tliink more of Christ and his work, than 
 of Mary and the priest 
 
 On my walk out I went as far as the great mount, and found it spht 
 from top to base by some convulsion of nature, and the frightful chasm 
 spanned by a narrow bridge, which clasped the two halves of the moun- 
 tain together. I climbed up a spur of the mount, and sat there for a 
 long time in profound revery. I saw coming round the road two bul- 
 lock drays. I clambered down from my perch, to go and meet the 
 drivers. I called to them to stop. They looked all around in aston- 
 ishment at hearing a voice at that spot, for they did not see me. When 
 I reached the road, they were as much astonished to see a woman 
 there, as they had been at hearing my voice. I asked them if they 
 could read. They very politely said they could. I asked them if they 
 would read some books and tracts. They said they would be glad and 
 thankful to have something to read, for they lived a long way in the 
 interior, where they could not get books of any kind. I gave them a 
 good supply, and told them to read them, and not destroy them. 
 
 "No, ma'am; we shall not destroy what we are so glad to receive," 
 they said. 
 
 Tears were in the eyes of one of these youths, and I walked beside 
 him, talking to him about his soul, till we came to the gorge. I wished 
 to see how they would take their bullocks across. While the terminus 
 of the permanent railway was at Mount Victoria, a temporary track 
 had been laid from there to where the navvies were at work. A small 
 engine was laid on this track with trucks, to carry railroad material to 
 the place where the navvies were at work. I went to the engine driver, 
 and asked him how far his little train went. He said "sixteen miles." 
 I asked if any of the navvies had their families with them. He said 
 there was quite a township of bark huts; but Lithgow Valley Zig-zag, 
 where the men were at work, was seven miles beyond. I was bent on 
 reaching the workers. I told this man, if he would take me as far as 
 he went, I would pay him well ; but he said he could not possibly take 
 me, as the trucks were loaded with timber and iron, and the engine 
 was so small that he and the fireman could hardly stand on the little 
 platform. I had quite made up my mind that this litde man should 
 take me on his little engine. I told him that I had come from Sydney 
 all the way with books and tracts for the navvies, and I hoped he would 
 take me on his little engine. I would stand where the fireman stood, 
 and he could stand in the tender for the sixteen miles, and I would be 
 •that much nearer to the men I wished to see. I hoped he would not
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 517 
 
 Stop me on my mission, but take me with him without pay, if he dared 
 not take pay. He looked astonished at my proposal. He feared I 
 would fall off, or be burned, or smeared with the coal tar and oil. I 
 said I would take all the risks, if he would only take me. At last he 
 consented to take me if, when I saw the engine, I would venture on it. 
 I saw the little locomotive, and did not, of course, object to the little 
 thing, though I scarce had standing-room. When I descended to terra 
 firma, I saw a black band of grease on my brown Holland dress, from 
 my waist to the hem on the skirt, but I did not care for it; I had 
 gained my object. When I asked the two young men where to go, 
 they kindly walked two miles with me to the house of a sub-contractor, 
 where I could lodge while in this region. I ordered a good lunch for 
 the young men, and offered to pay them; but they said they were well 
 paid by being so kindly talked to by me, and by the tracts I had given 
 them. They said, when I was ready to go back to Mt. Victoria, they 
 would come for me, and take me the way I came. They could not 
 have been more obliging. 
 
 I asked Mrs. C for directions to find the place where the men 
 
 were at work. 
 
 "Oh, I shall take you," she said, and forthwith she prepared to ac- 
 company me. 
 
 She came out dressed in gay colors, flaunting a long white ostrich 
 feather in an old-fashioned straw bonnet. Dame fashion did not often 
 reach this deep dell; but the feather was fine, and the colors were 
 bright, and she could wear what she liked, or rather what she had. 
 Was she not a contractor's wife? I left my carpet bag till I could go 
 out alone to distribute its contents. My guide tried to tiptoe among 
 the rocks and rough places, but finally she had to plant her feet firmly, 
 to enable her to walk without falling. The feather had many a toss, 
 and the flounces fluttered, but we got along very well. I had an op- 
 portunity to contemplate the stupendous work in which the men were 
 engaged. I saw men fifty, a hundred, two hundred, three hundred 
 feet above me, standing on little ledges of a cliff, and boring holes for 
 
 blasting. They looked like pictures hung on a wall. Mrs. C told 
 
 me, with great unconcern, that the men often fell from their perilous 
 positions, and got killed. One had fallen two days before my visit. 
 I was told the great blast was to take place presently. I heard a thun- 
 dering report, and thought a mountain was displaced; but it was only 
 the top that had been blown off to prepare the way for the iron horse. 
 Jt was a grand sight to sec tons and tons of solid rock spring into mid-
 
 5l8 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 air, and then fall down into the valley below. The Lithgow Valley 
 Zigzag shows that the ingenuity of man is great, and his works won- 
 derful; but God's works and ways are past finding out. 
 
 On our return we passed through quite a large village, and I saw a 
 number of children running about. I asked if they had a school for 
 these little ones. I was told they had a public school. This I desired 
 to visit, but the master was from home. I left a message for him to 
 meet me at his school-house nex't day. We reached the house in time 
 for supper. I met the contractor, a quiet, civil man, somewhat intel- 
 ligent; but neither he nor his wife could read or write. I talked to 
 them of the great importance of preparing to meet their God; for in 
 the morning a man might go out in perfect health, and bejjrought back 
 to his family in an hour's time a mangled corpse, without any prepara- 
 tion for the eternity he had entered. One of their number had thus 
 been called two days before. They assented to all I said. After supper 
 a number of navvies came in, and I talked to them all about their soul's 
 interest, and preparation for. sudden death. They all listened with pro- 
 found attention. I read some for them, and gave those who could read 
 some tracts, for which they thanked me. When all were gone, the 
 woman asked me if I could write a letter. I smiled, and said yes. 
 
 "But," she said, I mean a letter to aman in a Government office." 
 
 I said I could do that. 
 
 "Then will you write a letter for my man? He can't write, and 
 somebody has cheated him, and told stories about him to a gentleman 
 in town, and we wish to write to him about it; but we can't, and we 
 don't like to get any one here to do it, and if you will write for my 
 man, it will be a great favor to us, and we will be forever obliged to 
 you." 
 
 The contractor explained his difficulty, and it might have ended very 
 seriously for him, as he could not write to explain. I wrote an official 
 letter, which delighted the troubled contractor. 
 
 Next day, bag in hand, I went out alone, and every navvy that I 
 met, I told him I had a message from a navvy in England, who died 
 rejoicing in the truth. He said: 
 
 "Tell every man you meet Christ died for every man. Jesus Christ 
 died for every man. My blessed, blessed Savior, world without end, 
 Amen," and so he died. 
 
 This Jesus, whom Thomas Ward found so precious to his soul, I 
 wish to tell you about, and so I deliver his last message to you, and I 
 have come all the way from Sydney to tell it you. I told them what
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 519 
 
 Jesus had done for them, and invited them to come to him. He would 
 not cast them out, though they seemed to be outcast from civihzed 
 society. I came to a group of Papists, and greeted them with a kind 
 good-morning, and asked if any of them could read. One of them 
 turned round, and with an oath said, 
 
 "What is that to you?" 
 
 "If so, I shall give you something to read." 
 
 One cursed me for a heretic, and said : 
 
 "Be off about your business." 
 
 The priest had warned them against heretics, for they wanted to con- 
 vert people from the true church. I told them I had no such desire. 
 I had come all the way from Sydney to give them a kind message 
 from a friend. A gentleman told me not to come amongst you, for 
 you would insult me; but I said no; for no one would insult another 
 for a kind message being carried to him from a fellow navvy. 
 
 "I have come out here alone, and trusted myself among you; now 
 you can judge for yourself whether that gentleman or myself were right 
 in our opinion of you." 
 
 These hardy sons of toil softened considerably toward me. They 
 apologized in various ways, but made the priest the scape-goat. I 
 talked to them about the dangerous work they were engaged in; how 
 careful they ought to be, and how they ought to prepare for sudden 
 death. We parted very good friends. A soft answer turned away 
 the wrath of these men. 
 
 I next came to a young man sitting alone, with a very handsome, 
 intelligent face. I asked him if he would accept of a few tracts. He 
 rose to his feet, took off his cap, and politely said that he could not 
 read; that he was a Roman Catholic, and that the priest had positively 
 forbidden him to read heretical works of any kind. 
 
 "I may not accept of your proffered kindness, ma'am." 
 
 We talked some time together, and I went on my way. I saw a man 
 sitting on a rock eating luncheon, with a sweet little girl by his side. 
 I sat down beside them, and began to talk to the child. I asked her 
 if she could read, and if she were at school, and "yes" was her answer 
 to both questions. She said she could and would read to her father 
 the books I gave her, and he looked pleased. With but one excep- 
 tion, I met with civility from the great number of men I met and spoke 
 to that day. All received the message kindly, and accc2)ted the read- 
 ing matter thankfully, except the Papists. 
 
 At the school-house the master was in waiting. I was surprised at
 
 520 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 the number of children who were enrolled in the school. The teacher, 
 a very civil, gentlemanly young man, was glad to have a stranger visit 
 his school, and take an interest in the children. He gave me full in- 
 formation about the place and the people, and the difficulties he had 
 to contend with. I could sympathize with him. I examined the school 
 furniture, and asked him his method of teaching; what he taught, and 
 how many classes he had; all of which queries he answered politely 
 and promptly. I suggested some alteration in his method of teaching, 
 and told him he ought to have some more maps and other things. He 
 said he Avould certainly like to make the improvements I suggested, 
 but perhaps the Council of Education would not approve of any altera- 
 tion in his methods, as an inspector had given him his instructions. I 
 said I had the opportunity of knowing what the Council of Education 
 required in their schools, and if he acted on the suggestions I gave, he 
 would be the one benefited. He asked if I had to do with schools. 
 I said I had to do with one country school like his own; but keeping 
 up with the improvements of the day as far as possible, I was ahead of 
 him. I also told him a new inspector might visit his school, and see- 
 ing him so far behind, might suggest his removal, and put a more ener- 
 getic teacher in his place. On the other hand, if they see you are 
 doing your best under unfavorable circumstances to improve your 
 school, the Council will help you. He said: 
 
 ' 'Your advice is good ; I accept it. I shall write to Mr. Wilkins 
 and tell him what this school wants in material. I am anxious to do 
 all I can for the school in accordance with the way the Council will 
 most approve." 
 
 He asked if I would carry his letter to the secretary. I said I 
 would not only carry his letter, but I would carry a good report of his 
 desire to please the Council in his work. He seemed perfectly de- 
 lighted that I took such an interest in his school. By obeying the 
 golden rule I made this young man's heart happy, and lightened his 
 burden, and it cost me nothing to make suggestions to him, and to 
 carry a good report of him to headquarters. 
 
 I next visited the huts, where I met women and children. All 
 seemed glad to see me, though I was a stranger to them. They were 
 glad to have me sit and talk to them about their eternal interests. I 
 returned to the contractor's, where a number of navvies were waiting 
 for me, to hear me read and talk to them. What a field was here for 
 cultivation, I thought. These people stayed late, as I was to leave 
 them next day. I asked Mrs. C what I owed her for my lodging.
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. $21 
 
 She said she was too glad to have me in her house, to think ol charg- 
 ing me anything. I parted with all these people on the most friendly 
 terms, with a prayer that the seed I had sown broadcast might bring 
 forth fruit in time. 
 
 When I reached Mount Victoria I found my dress had another black 
 stripe to correspond with the first I got on the little locomotive. All 
 along the road from Mount Victoria I threw tracts to the brakemen 
 from the cars. At one of the switches we stopped some time, and I 
 watched the brakeman at work, and thought of the disastrous conse- 
 quences to the train did he neglect his duty. How important to have 
 trustworthy men at the post. I was so absorbed that I did not notice 
 the brakeman take off his cap, and he stood uncovered some time ere 
 I recognized the Dane whom I had seen before. I was glad to see 
 him. He reported his mate and himself as well and doing v/ell. I 
 was glad to hear this. 
 
 As soon as I arrived in the city I called on the gentleman to whom 
 the contractor wrote. I asked if the business of the letter had been 
 attended to. He said he was just then attending to it. 
 
 "But why did he not write sooner? He very nearly lost the job by 
 putting it off so long." 
 
 "Because the poor man can not write," I said. 
 
 "Well, that letter that was written has saved him; had I not re- 
 ceived it at the time I should have had another in his place. To- 
 morrow he will hear from me." 
 
 I was glad that I had been able to serve this poor man and his fam- 
 ily. My visit to the mountains had not been useless, but profitable to 
 others as well as beneficial to myself. I went to the Department of 
 Education, delivered the teacher's letter, and told Mr. Wilkins what I 
 had suggested to improve his method of teaching. He was interested, 
 and asked many questions about the school and the teacher. 
 
 "Was he a suitable man for the place?" 
 
 I thought he was; but he ought to have a better set of school 
 apparatus. I said I believed him a faithful worker, and the people 
 spoke well of him. Mr. Wilkins laughed, and said : 
 
 "Few ladies have spent their holidays as you have done. You have 
 done us a service ; you have done the work of an inspector, and have 
 saved the visit of one." 
 
 I returned to my work refreshed in body and in mind. I did not 
 feel the utter lonesomencss of my situation as I did two or tliree years 
 before. I had more time to read, and when I had a holiday I ran
 
 522 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 away as far and fast as I could in an express train. I was walking up 
 King Street one day when a well-dressed woman thus addressed me 
 as she passed me : 
 
 "So you do not know me. I must have changed greatly since you 
 saw me last." 
 
 She turned and looked in my face, then crossed the street. I did 
 not recognize her ; but only one woman would address me in this way, 
 I thought, and I crossed the street after her to ascertain who she was. 
 
 I asked if she were Mrs. B, W ? She turned to me with a frown, 
 
 and said : 
 
 "Do you pretend not to know me?" 
 
 "I made no pretense?" I said. 
 
 Thdn she said: "I am your sister." 
 
 "I do not pretend to have a sister; are you Mrs. B. W ?" 
 
 "Yes, I am Mrs. B. W ; don't you know that?" 
 
 "It matters little whether I know it or not; I want nothing from 
 you; I am quite able now to get along without you." 
 
 "It is very well for you to say you do not know me, now that I am 
 poor," she rejoined. 
 
 I told her that I did not know she was poor, for when I saw her last 
 she was rolling in plenty, in possession of houses and land, and her 
 husband was in a large and prosperous business ; and then they drove 
 me from their home friendless, penniless, a homeless stranger, to wan- 
 der where I listed. 
 
 * 'You had, under false pretenses and promises, induced me to leave 
 a happy home, friends, and all that I valued, to come to you, and 
 you violated every promise you made to me, and laughed at my cre- 
 dulity, and then at midnight I had to turn from the door of your in- 
 hospitable mansion to seek shelter from strangers. But the God whom 
 I trust took care of me; as he feeds the ravens, so he fed me, and has 
 ever since protected me under his sheltering wing. I freely forgive 
 you for all your cruelty to me, but you have forever broken the kin- 
 dred tie that bound us. You have destroyed the feelings of my heart 
 which would have enabled me to devote my life to you and yours. 
 They are dead within me ; you killed them. But you said you were 
 poor; how can that be ?" 
 
 She said her husband had gambled all their property away, then 
 went to the gold diggings, and was never heard from since. She 
 heard he was dead. I said, poverty is no disgrace if you are living 
 respectably. I will visit you sometimes. I walked with her to hei
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 523 
 
 place of abode, which was a neat little cottage in a retired part of the 
 city. It was well-furnished from the wreck of her prosperity, and 
 from said wreck she had saved a little money, the interest of which 
 and some sewing she did paid her rent and supplied her wants. Her 
 circumstances had changed from receiving large rents, to having to 
 pay rent. I pitied her. She said her little girl had to be fed and 
 clothed and educated out of her small income. I told her I would 
 give her child a comfortable home, and clothe and educate her, if she 
 were willing to give her up to me. I took the puny, sickly child of 
 seven years with me to the bush for a week, for a change, and to see 
 how she would like a permanent change. When I took her home I 
 was told that I could have her on condition that I should give her 
 breakfast in bed, let her lie till ten, give her lunch at eleven,Cand let 
 her eat at any and at all times. I replied, that pity for her sickly 
 child had prompted me to give her a home in the country, and apart 
 from the impossibility of obeying her injunctions, my purpose in re- 
 gard to the child was to break up and root out all those pernicious 
 habits. 
 
 ''Are you willing for her to go? If so, my conditions are, that she 
 shall go to bed as a child ought at seven o'clock, not twelve or one as 
 has been her habit, and rise at seven. She will eat what I eat, and 
 when I eat; her habits must be regular to give her health; and instead 
 of never going near the fire lest she burn herself, she must learn to 
 take care of herself, and make fires, and prepare food and many other 
 things that will be useful to her in this world." 
 
 She granted the child permission to come with me after giving her 
 private instructions. I took her home, and she proved a thorn in the 
 flesh to me. My home was finished and furnished so I could and did 
 make the child comfortable, but I had still to go to Sydney for my 
 provisions on Saturday, so I took her to see her mother every time I 
 went to town, and she met me at the ferry on my return. When I 
 told her to do anything she would reply, 
 
 "My mother told me not to do it, and she told me not to do this 
 and not to do that." 
 
 She was not fond of books. In school she was a rebellious subject, 
 and set a bad example to the other children. Sometimes she would 
 take a whole day to do some little thing that I asked her to do, but 
 she had to do it, just because I had told her to do it. I was kind to 
 her, but she had to obey; I was firm, but she was a great torment to 
 me. I took her home to her mother, and told her to keep her at
 
 524 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 home; for the orders she gave her to disobey me conflicted with mine ; 
 I expected obedience in my own house. I had no wish to keep her; 
 I was under no obhgation to do so. 
 
 "Her cunning and deceitful ways are past finding out, and are ex- 
 ceedingly distasteful to me; and as you do not appreciate my efforts 
 to save your child, you can keep her with you. I can get others who 
 are capable of appreciating the advantages, and who will gladly and 
 thankfully receive them and give me no trouble." 
 
 The girl voluntarily came back to me, and said she would rather 
 live with me than live in town. She said she would obey me, and try 
 to be good ; she wanted to be good and go to heaven, and she could 
 not be good in town; and would I please to take her back ; she would 
 try andl^ive no trouble. Poor child, I could not resist her appeal. I 
 took her to my home and heart again. After this we had a butcher 
 and baker to come to North Sydney twice a week, and I did not take 
 her so often to town. She began to improve. At our morning and 
 evening worship she would read a chapter and I would pray, and we 
 were very happy. She became very useful, was my little housekeep- 
 er, and was my right-hand litde maiden, an early riser, and a very 
 fair student. 
 
 After receiving a letter from Brother M , I had serious thoughts 
 
 of going to Adelaide instead of going to America. I felt that now a 
 successor could be found to step into my place. I resigned my posi- 
 tion to leave the colony, and I had to leave the child with her mother, 
 who now had very bad health, and would realize the benefit of the 
 four years' training I had given her child. I had provided the child 
 with everything that could be useful to her for years to come. I pro- 
 vided means for her mother to set up in business. All I could do 
 for both I did, and then I left them in God's hand, hoping the child 
 would be a blessing to the sick mother. On board ship, when about 
 to sail from Sydney, the following note was handed to me : 
 
 I shall from this day live a new life. I shall bless you while I live for what 
 you have done for me and mine. I intend to live for another world, as I do not 
 think I shall live long in this one. I do not think we shall ever meet again in 
 this world. Farewell ! God bless you. Yours, B. 
 
 When I tendered my resignation to the Council of Education, they 
 gave me a very handsome testimonial, which I highly appreciated. 
 The secretary told me that I was the first teacher who had left the 
 service who had ever received a testimonial, and that I was highly
 
 THE NEW SYSTEM. 52-5 
 
 coniplimented by the fact. It was compliment enough to have been 
 retained so long in the service, but he said, and so said the testimo- 
 nial, that I had, under very trying circumstances, provided for the 
 present and future education of a very destitute locality through hard- 
 ships, privations, hard work and great self-denial. Mr. Wilkins, Mr. 
 Gardener and Mr. Forbes had been my stanch friends throughout my 
 bush career. I had always enjoyed their sympathy and encourage- 
 ment. I said I felt highly honored by the appreciation and confi- 
 dence of the Council of Education, as the first and greatest men in 
 the colony composed it. My home had become very desirable. My 
 trees and vines that I had planted were laden with fruit, and promised 
 Soon to bring forth an abundant crop. But I had no Christian society. 
 I had been living in the midst of a desert of mind for eight years, and 
 I had been several times prevented from going to America. I now 
 wished to go to Adelaide. There a Christian Church had been estab- 
 lished, with an American preacher. There I hoped to enjoy the 
 society of Christians of my own way of thinking, and be in a church 
 whose creed was the Bible alone. I appreciated all the good things I 
 had now ; but I was willing to sacrifice them all for the sake of Chris- 
 tian society and church privileges. Perhaps in South Australia I 
 might pioneer another work for others to reap the benefit. Mr. Wil- 
 kins thought I was very foolish to give up a good home, a good salary 
 and good friends for the reasons given. The Hon. (now Sir) Henry 
 Parkes, Colonial Secretary, and President of the Council of Education, 
 told me, on saying good-bye to me the day I left the colony, that from 
 the day I had entered the service of the Council to the present, I had 
 the high appreciation, the warmest sympathy and the fullest confidence 
 of every member of the Council. He said : 
 
 "You are leaving us, and if it be any pleasure to you to know what 
 we think of you, I tell you, and I hope where you are going you will 
 find friends who will appreciate you as we do." 
 
 This was a very unexpected speech, so full of kindness, that I felt a 
 choking sensation, and could not answer him ; I could only bow my 
 profound thanks, and we parted. 
 
 The bush in which I had fought my way was now a thriving village. 
 Three of my first night scholars had married and two had become teach- 
 ers. I had given them extra training, and they had secured schools. 
 All of those scholars who had been a terror to me at first, were doing 
 well; all respectably employed, well-behaved and good citizens; hav- 
 ing classes in Sunday-school, and leading moral and religious lives.
 
 526 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 All the people were prospering in their own spheres. I had for eight 
 long years been paying my vows unto the Lord. I had tried to serve 
 him more faithfully ; I had gone to a place where no one else would 
 go ; I had worked where no one else would work ; I proved the sin- 
 cerity of my vows by fulfilling them to the letter. I handed over the 
 property to the trustees to hold in trust for the people's use as a school- 
 house and chapel, and a teacher's residence. Everything was finished 
 and paid for. I closed my work at North Sydney, December 31, 1869, 
 and went to Sydney to prepare for the voyage to South Australia. I 
 bade all my friends farewell ere I went on board the ship.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, AND TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 
 
 I SAILED on the steamship Ybu Yangs, February 7, 1870. The 
 ship was full of passengers, and the day being fine, I stayed on deck 
 as long as I could. I noticed a pretty young lady, dressed in black, 
 walking up and down in a very restless manner. The captain had a 
 litde lookout seat, without support to feet or back, projecting from the 
 outside of the bulwarks. This pretty woman climbed the bulwarks 
 and sat down on this seat. At every roll of the ship the waves splashed 
 her feet. She seemed unconscious of her great danger. One of the 
 ofiEicers gave her in charge of the stewardess, and she was taken down 
 to the cabin. Ere night set in, we had what the sailors called a "twis- 
 ter." When we went down to tea the tables were adorned with the 
 storm-guards. Drinking tea in a rolling ship is a sloppy business. I 
 left the table and wen<- on deck again. The ship was rolling, pitch- 
 ing, tossing, leaping, falling, and fairly writhing, like to a living being 
 in mortal agony. The sea formed before us as it were a basin of 
 great depth, with brim of foam, and the water inside of it in a whirl, 
 first one way, then another. The ship fairly leaped in this basin. 
 "O Father," I cried, "we are going to the bottom!" 
 I felt as if the ship was leaving me. I sprang to my feet, and I lost 
 my breath for a few seconds, until the ship mounted the wave on the 
 other side. This was more like a whirlpool than anything I had ever 
 seen at sea. The sky was growing inky black. The sea was lashed 
 into foam as white as snow. The waves rushing from south to north, 
 and the wind blowing from east to west a perfect hurricane. The 
 ship, subjected to this cross action, went pitching on in semi-circular 
 jerks, deadly to see and feel. This cross sea, or chopping sea, is ter- 
 rible on a ship. It was truly a "twister." It twisted the ship vigor- 
 ously, and our stomachs were nearly twisted out of us ere we could 
 reach our cabins and lay our heads on our pillows. All that night 
 I was so sick I was indifferent to the storrn. Next day the storm 
 al)ated, but the five ladies who occupied the ladies' cabin were too 
 sick to get up. The berth opposite to me was occupied by a young 
 
 (527)
 
 528 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 married lady and lier baby. She was going to visit friends at Mel- 
 bourne. In the berth above her was the lady in black, whose manner 
 was so strange. The young mother had to leave the cabin with her 
 babe for a few minutes. While she was gone the woman in black 
 called to me, and said there were on board a number of men who had 
 determined to kill some of the ladies, and one of them ^Yas that young 
 mother. She said she was in the secret, but she would give her no 
 warning, for she hated her. I told the stewardess the woman in black 
 ought to be watched, for she was dangerous. A berth was prepared 
 for her in the next compartment of the ladies' cabin, where she had it 
 all to herself. The stewardess said my fears were idle ; nothing ailed 
 the woman; she would stay with her. All on board save the watch 
 had retired. I could not sleep. My eyes were riveted on a curtain 
 that hung between the ladies' two compartments. I saw it moved on 
 one side, and a crouching figure crept in. Two eyes of fire were glaring 
 and staring on vacancy. The head turned first on one side, then 
 the other, as if looking for something, and a voice said, in a sepul- 
 chral tone, 
 
 "They sleep; 'tis well. Now is the time to strike home." 
 When, oh, horror! her hand was raised, and in it a knife gleamed 
 in the lamplight, and the figure advanced a step. Up to this moment 
 I was motionless and voiceless; but now I sprang to my feet, dragging 
 my bed-cover round me, shook and roused the sleeping ladies, took 
 the sleeping child from the sleeping mother, and almost dragged her 
 out of her bed, and rushed to the public saloon, ere the maniac 
 could do any damage. Here stood a group of women in their night 
 robes in the public saloon in terror for their lives from the murderous 
 dagger of a mad woman. We soon gave the alarm and called the 
 stewardess, but she could not be found, and the maniac was raging 
 through our cabin. Some gentlemen heard the uproar and came out to 
 see what was the matter. When they could take in the situation, they 
 brought cloaks and rugs to cover the shivering female forms. I had 
 my bed-cover wrapped around the sleeping child and myself. Sev- 
 eral of the gentlemen kindly offered us their rooms, and they would 
 stay on deck all night. I positively refused to deprive the gentlemen 
 of their beds, but I wished the crazy woman to be secured, and we 
 could go to our own berths. The captain said it would be unlawful to 
 lock her up. We suggested that he would keep her company all night, 
 as he did not think her at all dangerous. We were afraid of her. He 
 said the stewardess could keep her company, but she could not be
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 529 
 
 found, and when she did put in an appearance, her head Avas in a 
 bandage. The woman in black, whom she had declared harmless, 
 had, while she lay with her head on a box asleep, taken her head be- 
 tween her hands and knocked it on the corner till it was severely cut 
 and bruised. She positively refused to go near the mad woman. 
 While the maniac and her tricks were being discussed, out she rushed, 
 brandishing her deadly weapon. This was quickly taken from her. 
 She seized a pitcher of water and threw it over a gentleman, and 
 rushed out and in from one gentleman's cabin to another, pulling their 
 beds about and turning everything topsy-turvy, and using the most 
 profane language imaginable ; and there the captain sat perfectly in- 
 different as to our fears or discomforts. One of the gentlemen at last 
 said, the maniac must either be secured or watched ; the security and 
 safety of the passengers demanded it, and the steward was ordered to 
 keep watch over her. He was a great strong man, but he said he 
 would never undertake such another job. The maniac kept the pas- 
 sengers in dread till she was given to her friends at Melbourne. 
 
 Just before I left New South Wales, I met Brother Earl and young 
 Brother Alexander Magarey en route for America. I had talked so 
 much to my friends everywhere about Bethany and Mr. Campbell, 
 that our young brother had a great desire to visit the scene of Mr. 
 Campbell's great labors and death. I said to him ere we parted, 
 
 "You will likely see the grave where our hero lies buried." 
 
 "Yes; but I would rather have heard the great and good old man 
 when he was alive, than to see the place where he lies silent," he said. 
 
 In writing to Mrs. Campbell, I said: "Perhaps you Avill have seen 
 my young friend ere this reaches you; if not, I hope you will give him 
 all the information he thirsts for. Our young brother is quite enthu- 
 siastic at the idea of visiting Bethany, and I hope he will return with 
 as much. He is just at the age when lasting impressions are made." 
 
 This remark has proved a true prophecy; for a young lady at Bethany 
 made a lasting impression on his mind and heart. A few years after 
 he made another pilgrimage to Bethany, married the young lady, and 
 took her to his own sunny home in the Great South Land. Two of 
 the American Evangelists have married Australian ladies, and the peo- 
 ple, who but a few years ago were unknown to each other, were now 
 being linked by the strongest tics. 
 
 I remained at Melbourne two weeks; visited the different places of 
 interest and old friends, and also the two American Evangelists, Breth- 
 34
 
 530 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ren Surber and Carr. jNIrs. Carr had a school, and was doing well. I 
 
 was so glad to meet Americans. I met Silvanus M , Brother 
 
 M 's second son, who was studying at the university for the med- 
 ical profession. When I was on board the ship ready to start, he came 
 on board, and introduced to me Mr. H. Bundey, a noble-looking gen- 
 tleman, who was going to Adelaide. Nothing of importance transpired 
 
 on this voyage. Mr. B was exceedingly attentive and kind to me, 
 
 when Ave had recovered from our sea-sickness, and were once more on 
 
 deck. When I landed at Port Adelaide, Mr. B took me to the 
 
 train, and when we arrived at Adelaide, he handed me over to Sister 
 
 M , who was waiting for me at the terminus, and took me to her 
 
 seaside residence at Glenely. Brother, M was not at home; but 
 
 when he returned, he gave me a cordial welcome. I discovered while 
 
 resting here, that Brother M , like Brother Campbell, was given to 
 
 hospitality. 
 
 I had a delightful visit to Lindsay Park, the home of my old and 
 venerated friend Mr. Angas. His country home is sixty miles from 
 Adelaide, and the two days' drive over the mountains in a coach was 
 delightful. My reception by Mr. Angas was all that I could desire, 
 and while I was his guest, he was exceedingly attentive and kind. His 
 two daughters, Mrs. Hannay and Mrs. Evans, were very agreeable 
 ladies. We had many friendly discussions, among others one on Ro- 
 manism, and its evil effects. Mr. Angas had a very decided aversion to 
 that system of religion. He asked me if I would open a school some- 
 thing like the one I had in New South Wales, and, as far as was possi- 
 ble, counteract the evils of PvOmanism, where the Papists were trying 
 to lay hold of all children by their cheap schools. I told him I had 
 been thinking of doing so. 
 
 "Well, I shall help you," said the old gentleman. 
 
 After a pleasant visit to the Park, I returned by railway to Adelaide. 
 
 At Hindmarsh, a suburb of Adelaide, I opened school for poor 
 
 children of all denominations. A few friends, with Mr. M at the 
 
 head of the list, subscribed money to help buy school apparatus. I 
 had a genteel boarding-house, but it was at an inconvenient distance 
 from the school. The school-room I found too small for the number 
 of children in attendance, and my long walk to and from school was a 
 great hindrance to my work. My road lay across a railway, and one 
 'day as I was crossing it, not knowing train time, nor looking or thinking 
 about it, when a train at full speed whizzed past me, and drew my dress 
 nearly in among the wheels. I gave a spring forward, caught hold of
 
 ^ THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 53 1 
 
 a fence till I recovered from the fright, and then went on my way. 
 This experience taught me a lesson. Another day I had crossed the 
 railway, when I saw coming from different directions six pillars of dust 
 whirling around. I stood and watched, thinking to see them converge 
 on a plain before me, over which I had to pass. While I stood one 
 struck me with great violence, and drove me agai.nst a wall. It broke 
 against the wall, and fell with a heavy shower of gravel and dust, 
 nearly smothering me. I could neither see nor move for some time. 
 After this deluge of dust, I thought I had to look out for more than the 
 train. These whirlwinds of dust are very common in South Australia. 
 
 Mrs. Wm. Magarey, who with her husband had visited me in my 
 bush home in New South Wajes, was a sister to my shipmate, Mr. 
 Bundey, and their mother, a very interesting, intelligent old lady, was 
 an invalid, and staying at her daughter's house while she and her hus- 
 band were on a trip to England. Their house lay on my way to school, 
 and often I called to see the invalid to cheer her up. She hailed my 
 visits with joy, and I always left her bedside benefited by my visit. 
 
 This reciprocated pleasure was enjoyed till Mr. and Mrs. W. M 
 
 came home; then my visits were not necessary, nor so frequent. Mrs. 
 
 W. M never forgot my kindness to her mother, nor while memory 
 
 holds her empire in my heart, shall I forget her kindness to me. Mrs. 
 H. Bundey also was exceedingly kind to me, and to these two lovely 
 sisters-in-law I owe much of the happiness I had while I sojourned in 
 South Australia. 
 
 When Mr. Earl and Mr. A. M returned with Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 W. M , Mr. Earl resumed his labors in the city, where Mr. Gore 
 
 had supplied his place while he was absent, and Mr. Gore preached at 
 a suburban chapel. 
 
 Meantime, Mr. Angas had bought the site of a flouring mill tliat had 
 burned, had removed the debris, and converted a large stone granary 
 into a school-house, with a convenient gallery for young cliildren. He 
 built a neat cottage for me; had a high stone wall erected all around 
 the premises except in front, where it had a palisade fence. There 
 was a large play-ground, with swings, etc. When the school-house 
 was ready, I moved my school into it. Several small schools in the 
 neighborhood were swallowed up by the large one. They were small 
 and inefficient, and could not supply the needs of the people. A young 
 lady, who had one of these schools, was dependent upon it for a living, 
 and when it closed, she was placed in my school as an assistant, at a 
 salary from Mr. Angas. I paid all my other assistants. Mr. Angas
 
 532 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. . 
 
 paid for the tuition of fifty children who could not pay for themselves, 
 and those who could pay gave a little. 
 
 While the cottage was building, Mr. Angas kindly invited me to 
 to take up my abode at Prospect Hall, his town residence, he being at 
 
 his country home, Lindsay Park. Mr. A 's money accomplished 
 
 in a very short time, what it took me years to accomplish without money 
 at North Sydney. When I' began work in my new sphere, I felt that 
 brain and nerve power were needed to work up this strong, hard, rough 
 and raw material, which was very troublesome to handle. This part 
 of the work money could not perform. On the morning I opened my 
 new school, about seventy or eighty boys and girls were whooping and 
 hallooing in the play-ground. I stood »in the open door, preparing to 
 arrange them for marching into the room, when I was driven back to 
 the middle of the room by a perfect avalanche of great boys, dashing 
 pellmell over one another, and all rushing to the gallery to obtain 
 seats. Those persons, who saw the boys tumbling in over me, thought 
 it impossible that I could tame or subdue such turbulent spirits, or bring 
 order out of such confusion. It was thought that this troop of wild 
 street Arabs was untamable and unmanageable. I thought, as I waited 
 for them to be seated, here is a great work for me, God help me to 
 try, was my prayer, and in his strength I went to work, remembering 
 Mr. Campbell's precept, "Attempt great things, expect great things, 
 and great things will follow." I stood perfectly still, while they all 
 clambered over each other, and over the gallery seats, instead of up the 
 steps. At last they looked at me, and when they became perfectly still, 
 I addressed them thus : 
 
 "Boys, you have never been to a lady's school ; but seeing so many 
 of you here, I think you wish to come to mine, and I think you wish 
 to be on time, as all of you were in haste to secure your seats. This 
 is so far good. The first thing, however, that you have to learn is 
 obedience; then to walk into the school in order, and quietly. Now 
 all of you rise, and first this row, then that, come down the steps, and 
 walk out to the play-ground, where I shall give you your first lesson." 
 
 They came down, walked out in single file to the play-grounds, and I 
 followed, and arranged them. Having examined the face and hands of 
 every one, to see if they were clean, I marched them to their seats in 
 good order. The novelty of my movements kept them quiet for the 
 moment. But they were full of mischief, and were ever ready to burst 
 out in a new place. It was a most difficult matter to interest and con- 
 trol this mass of humanity, till I enrolled, and classified, and organized
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IX ADELAIDE. 533 
 
 them after the model of my former school. The system adopted by 
 the Council of Education was entirely new to the colony, but I intro- 
 duced it. A Government inspector visited my school while I was 
 organizing it, and spoke highly of the method. A gentleman from a 
 model school under the Council of Education was sent for, to open for 
 Government in Adelaide a school after the model of those in New 
 South Wales. Now they have many first-class schools, with trained 
 teachers at their head, and in a flourishing condition. 
 
 In two weeks I had my school thoroughly organized, and in working 
 order. I hoped that my assistants would help me to quell rising storms, 
 when they saw them looming ^in the distance, but this they were not 
 able to do; consequently, when they allowed disorder in their classes, 
 my nerve power was always strained to its utmost endurance. I was 
 desirous that my school should be a blessing to the neighborhood. 
 The class of children who came to it were not only the lowest and 
 poorest, but the most vicious and profane youngsters I had ever come 
 in contact with. Many of them had been turned out of other schools as 
 incorrigible. The people seemed to think that I was at the head of a 
 house of correction, and they sent me all the worst boys. I was 
 amazed at the amount of wickedness these children knew and prac- 
 ticed. I had to be almost omnipresent and omniscient, as far as my 
 domain extended, to put down the several plots that were concocted. 
 I had six months of the hardest w'ork I ever had in my life. I had to 
 look continually to God for strength, to enable me to perform my self- 
 imposed task. At the end of this time, I had purged from my school all 
 outward and visible forms of vice, and as I had the Bible for the founda- 
 tion stone of my work, I hoped to build a goodly structure. I had taken 
 possession of the cottage, and was mistress of the situation, when Mr. 
 Angas came to town, visited the school, and was delighted at the good 
 order which prevailed. He kindly asked if he could do anything for 
 me. I said my wants were (ew, and easily supplied. He laughingly 
 said : 
 
 "Your family has greatly increased since I last saw you ; do you not 
 want something for your children?" 
 
 I told him I intended to give them a tea party at Christmas, and it 
 was near at hand. 
 
 "Well," said he, "let our school have the tea at my expense. I am 
 as able to give as you are, and tell our scholars that I give tliem this 
 treat because you speak well of them. We are partners in this work, 
 but your part is the more arduous; but if you want anything at any 
 time, let me know, and I shall help you."
 
 534 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 I was pleased and encouraged by his visit. Our school increased to 
 one hundred and fifty children, and all the new scholars had to be 
 broken in and disciplined, but those first trained helped in this work. 
 I used no harsh measures at all. The Bible was my great aux- 
 iliary; without it I should have been powerless for good among these 
 wild street Arabs. What a power has the Bible to tame, to civilize, to 
 elevate, and to make good characters, fit to live, and fit to die. Mr. 
 
 A helped me to pay for some material, which I bought to make 
 
 garments for the poor of the neighborhood, and I let them have them 
 ready made for what the material cost. I had a lady to come twice a 
 week to teach the girls to sew, and all the school to sing. This ar- 
 rangement had a double advantage, for all kinds of underwear for men, 
 women and children were made, and this taught the girls to sew, and 
 the poor people had their garments made for nothing. 
 
 Miss Sarah Magarey, a very noble, highly cultured Christian young 
 lady, and Mrs. Wm. Milne, daughter-in-law to the Hon. (now Sir) W. 
 Milne, whom I often met at the sick-bed of Mrs. Sinclair, a young mar- 
 ried lady, were so kind as to come, each one day in the week, and 
 hear some classes recite. » 
 
 I also hired an ex-sergeant of one of Her Majesty's regiments to drill 
 the boys in the play-ground, while I drilled the girls in the school-room. 
 I kept all busy at work. Christmas was at hand, and the tea party, a 
 new thing to these children, was in their mind. We had our large 
 school-room decorated for our first holiday feast. We regretted Mr. 
 Angas' absence. One of the leading papers had a notice of the tea 
 party in this style : 
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN TO THE BOWDEN PUBLIC SCHOOL 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 The spacious room was decorated with green. The tea was given at the ex- 
 pense of the founder of the school to one hundred and fifty scholars. After tea 
 they adjourned to the play-ground, to amuse themselves for a while, when they 
 re-assembled in the school-room, and were joined by parents and friends. W. I. 
 Magarey accepted the chair. Mr. H. Hussey, as one well acquainted with the 
 working of the school, made a statement. * "■■• * The school was only opened 
 in July last with about seventy scholars, but it had increased to one hundred and 
 fifty. All those who had visited the school had expressed themselves well pleased 
 wiih the manner in which it was conducted by the Superintendent, Mrs. Davies, 
 who had succeeded in a very short time in bringing it into a good state of disci- 
 pline. The report was followed by a magic lantern exhibition, kindly given by 
 Mr. A. Magarey, which afforded a great deal of pleasure to the juveniles. At 
 intervals the children sang some of their school melodies, led by Mrs. Harris. 
 When they sang the National Anthem they were loudly cheered, and the pleasant 
 entertainment was brought to a close, all having enjoyed themselves thproughly.
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 535 
 
 One day I went with a young acquaintance to the lunatic asylum, to 
 visit a friend of hers, who had formerly been her teacher. I listened 
 to the conversation, but I could not detect insanity in this patient. 
 She noticed my interest in the conversation, and she said to me : 
 
 "You do not think me crazy, do you?" 
 
 "I do not, and why do you stay here?" I said. 
 
 "I shall give you the reason: I am not what people call insane ex- 
 actly, for I have my intellect about me. My thoughts sometimes get 
 deranged ai|d confused, but they are all there, like a drawer where 
 you keep your cuffs, collars and gloves. They sometimes get tumbled 
 out of place, but they are all there, though you can not for a moment 
 put your hand on what you want. So it is with me. I can not always 
 bring up the right thought; my ideas get confused, and this state of 
 mind was brought on by too much mental labor, worry and some losses, 
 and I was brought here. But if I had any friends who would take the 
 trouble to direct me, I need not be here long." 
 
 "God help you," I mentally exclaimed. She said one thought dis- 
 turbed her; it was, that she thought God had forsaken her. She said 
 our visit cheered her, and she asked us to come again, which we did 
 next Saturday. I felt the deepest sympathy for this poor lady. We 
 were sitting on the veranda, waiting for a nurse to conduct us to her, 
 when a great stalwart Irish nurse came to us, and sans ceremonie ordered 
 us to leave the premises; she wanted to shut the gate. We had just 
 come in, and wished to see Mrs. . 
 
 "You must leave," she said, with a scowl. 
 
 I asked if we were infringing upon the rules of the Institution; if so, 
 we should leave at once; but if not, we wished to see Mrs. first. 
 
 "Well, you can't see her," was spoken in a loud, rude tone. 
 
 I asked this bold woman where Dr. Paterson lived. This she was 
 not willing to tell; but I insisted on knowing, and she pointed to the 
 house with a frown on her face. We called upon the doctor, and I 
 asked him if the servants of the institution were allowed to treat visit- 
 ors rudely when visiting patients. Of course they were not. I asked 
 permission to visit the establishment; but though he gave me a great 
 deal of information about it, he said strangers were not allowed to visit 
 it unless they had friends or relatives in it. I said I had neither, but 
 this young lady has a friend that we came to see, and we were ordered 
 off the premises by an attendant wJio did not allow us to see Mrs. . 
 
 "This must not be," said the doctor. 
 
 I asked if I had permission to visit the institution. He said he had
 
 53^ fHE gTORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 not the power to grant the privilege to a stranger. I went home and 
 wrote to the Board of Trustees £lccofding to the doctor's instructions, 
 and sent in my request to have the permission granted, and I received 
 the following answer : 
 
 Adelaide Lunatic Asylum, Am^ust i^, 1872. 
 
 UaJanie : — In reply to your letter of tne 12th inst., requesting permission to 
 visit tlie Lunatic Asylum oitce a month, I am directed by Dr. Paterson to inform 
 you that your request is granted. The necessary instructions have been given 
 to the officer in charge. The visiting hours are from 10 to I, every day, except 
 Sunday. I have the honor to be, madam, Your obedient servant, 
 
 Mrs. Davies, Boiuden Public School. J°"^ ^- Steward. 
 
 At my first visit after this my reception was somewhat different. 
 The gate was flung Avide open, and I was conducted to the matron's 
 room by an obsequious daughter of Erin. The matron very politely 
 conducted me all over the premises. In this way the rude servant 
 was taught not to be insolent to strangers. She was ever after defer- 
 ential to me. I bought some large, showy pictures, and carried them 
 to the school-room to amuse the children, whose minds were beclouded. 
 I tried to impress upon the mind of the unfortunate teacher, that God 
 had not forsaken her. On leaving the home of the insane I always 
 felt sad. I was invited to a grand ball, to be given to the lunatics, by 
 the friends of the institution. A large room was brilliantly lit up, and 
 a crov/d of well-dressed people were assembled. A grand piano dis- 
 coursed dance-music, under the skillful fingers of a first-class musician. 
 The visitors danced with the inmates, and they abandoned themselves 
 to the music and their own motions, which were ludicrous enough ; but 
 they enjoyed themselves with great gusto. One young lady was 
 dressed in white, with black trimmings, black gloves and boots, black 
 hair and eyes. She was small and beautifully formed, but as demure 
 as a mouse. She danced with a gentleman visitor. She was fleet- 
 footed as a fawn, and fairly flew through the mazes of the dance, yet 
 she moved with ease and grace, and her eyes were ablaze with de- 
 light. When seated she looked the picture of patience. A nurse was 
 near her all the time to watch her. She was a dangerous maniac. 
 She belonged to one of the first families in the colony. Many others 
 of the same class were here. Most of the dancers were fantastically 
 dressed. We had kings, queens, and every shade of nobility ; and I 
 caught myself laughing several times at their grotesque figures. 
 
 One day I missed Mrs. ; I asked where she was, and was told 
 
 she had been sent to the asylum on the hills. This was a handsome
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 537 
 
 house, beautifully situated, bu^ a living tomb for those Avho were sent 
 there. It was the home for all time for the incurables. Poor Mrs. 
 
 ! I took an omnibus one day and went to visit her, and she vv-as 
 
 glad to see me. She said, as we stood in the midst of the incurables : 
 
 "I am not mad, though they have sent me here; but I will soon be 
 mad in the company of these driveling idiots." 
 
 It made my heart sick to see her surroundings, but I could not help 
 her; so I never went to see her again. I think I hear her last words : 
 
 "Oh ! have I to become like these ? What shall I do ? what shall I 
 do?" 
 
 I was powerless to help her, so I left the living tomb. It was not 
 good for me to be there. 
 
 Brethren Earl and Gore had a class of young men, preparing for 
 the ministry, and churches were being planted in various parts of the 
 colony. At the opening, and at the anniversary of the opening of a 
 place of worship, a tea-party would be given, and all the other churclies 
 be invited to come and celebrate the occasion. These tea-meetings 
 were enjoyable, sociable gatherings. When tea was over, the minis- 
 ters from the different Christian Churches would make speeches, and 
 report their progress. At these reunions, the Christian brotherhood 
 became better acquainted' with each other, enlarged their sympa- 
 thies, and took a deeper interest in each other and the cause. They 
 were more firmly knit in the bonds of faith, hope and love. 
 
 At Strathalbyn, a picturesque town away up among the hills, a 
 church had a tea-meeting, on opening their chapel for public wor- 
 ship. Members from the various churches were there. Adelaide 
 was largely represented. When the pleasant meeting was over, three 
 of our young ministers-elect were discussing a point. They had a 
 holiday, and they did not know what to do with it. The point dis. 
 cussed was, whether they would go back to Adelaide on the morrow 
 or take a trip to Lake Alexandrina. They asked me to decide for 
 them. Of course, I decided for the lake. vThey asked me then to 
 join them in their trip, which I willingly consented to do. At five in 
 the morning we started, we four in an elegant phaeton, with two horses 
 driven tandem. The swift-footed horses, prancing along a good road, 
 and the fresh morning breezes, made our spirits joyous. The sun 
 burst forth, and the hill-tops were tinged witli rosy light; a perfect 
 flood of splendor spread over hill and dale. This was a real Austra- 
 lian sunrise, beautiful and balmy. A burst of praise and thanksgiving 
 occasionally arose from our lips. I told these earnest young Christians
 
 53S THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 that the tandem team, with my three, reminded me of the time when 
 first I rode tandem to the lake under very different circumstances. 
 I told them the story of my first visit. We had breakfast at Milang- 
 after our long drive. I stood on the shore of Lake Alexandrina, 
 where, a quarter of a century or more previous, I had landed amid 
 the hideous yells of the painted savages, and the din and clatter of 
 war-weapons. I was not now panting with terror at hideous savages 
 surrounding me in an unbroken wilderness. I was surrounded by a 
 high civilization ; was in the midst of a prospering people ; in a thriv- 
 ing town, with its, flour-mills, its machine-shops, its stores, its churches, 
 and Its schools. Here all the most sanguine wishes -of Capt. Sturt's 
 heart, when he reported the millions of acres of alluvial soil that he 
 had discovered in this region, were realized. A sail across the 
 lake on a steamboat had been planned, and the boat lay ready for the 
 excursionists by the side of the jetty, built where my boat had been 
 landed up among the tall reeds on the shore. I could hardly realize, 
 as I stepped on board the gallant steamer, that she was crossing the 
 waters of the lake on which Mrs. Sturt, Miss Gawlor and myself were 
 the first white females to sail. We were the first to visit its shores, 
 and the first who ventured on the bosom of the Murray River, which 
 was now the great highway into the interior, and the most important 
 river on the continent, as it is the largest yet known. What must have 
 been the surprise of the savages when the first steamboat, like some 
 fabled monster of the wave breathing fire and making the shores re- 
 sound with its deep respirations, came in sight. 
 
 While my reflections were carrying me back to rude and painted 
 savages, unbroken forests and a silent wilderness, a large and merry 
 party were steaming across the beautiful lake. We reached the long, 
 narrow Coorong Lake, which we entered and up which we steamed. 
 Between the waters of the Coorong and the ocean is a long, narrow 
 strip of land, which varies from one to three miles wide. It is cov- 
 ered with sand-hills, high and dazzlingly white. The Coorong and 
 the Sandspit lie on the east side of the sea-mouth of the Murray. I, 
 with a few others, landed on this spit. I wished to cross it; for to me 
 it had great interest. I wished to make the most of my visit to this 
 desolate, lonely coast. I had never seen it before. I climbed a long, 
 high hill, to have a good view, and then to descend gradually to the 
 shore. When I reached the top, I was taken aback when I found no 
 gradual descent, but an almost perpendicular wall facing the ocean, 
 and a narrow beach between them. I had either to clamber down, or
 
 THIRB VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 539 
 
 turn back without seeing what I came for. I began to descend by 
 digging my heels into the yielding sand, making a kind of ladder, and 
 throwing myself well back on the sand to support myself; otherwise I 
 should have toppled down to the beach below. I now saw the sea- 
 mouth of the river, famous for many tragical events that happened near 
 it, and which gave a melancholy interest to the spot. 
 
 And this is Encounter Bay, I exclaimed, where the English and 
 French ships, each claiming to have discovered a certain portion of 
 this continent, had an encounter; hence the origin of the name, En- 
 counter Bay. This bay lies directly open to the Southern Ocean, and 
 the scene it presented was wild in the extreme. "The swell that rolls 
 into this bay at all times is of the heaviest description. The breakers 
 rise to the height of from fifteen to eighteen feet, before they burst 
 in one unbroken line as far as the eye can reach." The roar of 
 the foaming waters against the sand-hills is terrific. The whole 
 scene is awe-inspiring. This is a lone and dreary spot, seldom visited 
 by any living creature. I wandered on the beach and gathered a [cw 
 curious shells, as a memento of my visit. My thoughts went up 
 to the Almighty, who had spread out this vast ocean, and can say to 
 the roaring billows, "Peace, be still." I bent before the great I Am. 
 We recrossed the sandspit, boarded the steamer, recrossed the lake, 
 and reached Milang safe and satisfied with our excursion. 
 
 Our little party had a pleasant drive back to Strathalbyn. Next 
 morning, in company with some of our preachers, I took a seat outside 
 of a stage-coach, drawn by five fine, high-spirited horses, and swept 
 around and down the mountains. We had a magnificent view of the 
 country, which more than repaid me for taking an unfashionable seat 
 on top of the coach. We reached Adelaide all safe. 
 
 My health required that I should spend my midsummer holidays at 
 the seaside.' So I took another, and another trip to Port Elliot and 
 Port Victor. These places were outside the sea-mouth of the Murray, 
 and as the mouth forbade either egress or ingress, a tramway connected 
 these places to Goolwa, a town above the mouth. I enjoyed my visits 
 to the sea-beach. I would cover my head, and lie down on a bed of 
 shells or sand, and enjoy perfect idleness for hours; then I would 
 gather the beautifully tinted flowers, torn from their ocean bed, and 
 carried ashore by the waves. Of these beautiful flowers, or sea-weed, 
 I made exquisite wreaths, and fastened them to pasteboard. Thus I 
 rested from the toil and tumult of my daily life for a time. I would 
 sometimes take the outside seat of the tramway car, and run up to
 
 540 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Goohva. Once while here I took a steamer, and crossed the lake to 
 Point Macleay, to visit the mission school and farm for the natives. 
 Government has tried every means to improve the aborigines. The 
 school and farm at this place are well conducted, and the elementary 
 principles of education are given to the children; more they can not 
 take. When their reason is taxed, they fail. The men are taught to 
 till the ground; they are fed and clothed; but as they have none of 
 the finer feelings or principles that can be a basis of social order, litde 
 can be done to elevate them. I registered my name in the visitor's 
 book, with the remark that I was the first white lady the lake tribe 
 ever saw. 
 
 The Botanical Gardens were a great source of delight to my school. 
 Every few weeks I would have school out of doors. I would some- 
 times hire a whole railway car on a train, and pack all my children in 
 tight, and take them to town, and then march them to the gardens; 
 sometimes they marched all the way. This was one means I used to 
 make my school attractive to the children. On entering the beautiful 
 grounds, we marched down the broad walk to the fountain in the center, 
 where the classes divided, each teacher took her own class, and all 
 went their ways to examine the living specimens of Zoology, Ornithol- 
 ogy, or Ichthyology, as they felt inclined. I had first given them object 
 lessons on these animals, and when we returned to school in doors, I 
 examined all, to ascertain how much they had learned out of doors. 
 These were interesting examinations, and also amusing. At lunch-time 
 we would all meet in a shady place, and eat and chat freely, and then 
 gather up the crumbs, and feed the beautiful black and white swans, 
 which were floating on the artificial lake so gracefully. We would then 
 all walk round, and enjoy the rare sights of camels, kangaroos, emus 
 and flowers. Over one hundred children marched up and down, out 
 and in, and round the beautifully bordered and well-kept walks, and 
 not a plant, or flower, or twig, or leaf, or even a blade of grass injured 
 by their meddlesome fingers, or busy feet. My school was always wel- 
 come to the privilege of the beautiful grounds, for they gave no trouble. 
 
 I had the pleasure to know that Dr. Shomburg, who was the able 
 curator of these gardens, took quite an interest in my school. He gave me 
 slips of the most rare flowers of various kinds, and over a dozen varie- 
 ties of beautiful geraniums. I planted my flowers, and cultivated them, 
 and they grew luxuriantly. I also planted trees for shade. It was a 
 feast of poetry to me to watch the unfolding of the lovely flower-buds 
 that I had bred with so tender a hand. I would linger over the richly-
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 54 1 
 
 t'nted, svveetly-scented flowers at sunset. They had a great charm for 
 me. One Friday evening, as I sat at my parlor window jaded in mind 
 and body, I leaned my head on my hand, and gazed at the flood of 
 beauty that met my eye. A parterre of richest tinted flowers was 
 spread out before me. I looked long and lovingly at them ; then I 
 asked, who made the flowers? why were they made? what purpose 
 did they serve? do we need them? These questions rushed through 
 my mind, as I looked on the lovely creations in the midst of mean and 
 dusty surroundings, like a little oasis in a desert. I bowed my heart 
 in thankfulness to God, who for man's pleasure alone painted the petals 
 of the rose and the gladiolus, that the weary eye might rest, and the 
 tired spirit find repose. While my eye was pleased and my spirit 
 soothed by the simple beauty of the flowers, I asked yet another ques- 
 tion. If all these rare and e.\quisite flowers were for me alone, were 
 there no others who could enjoy them as I did? My mind flew 
 back to Bethany, in America, when Prof. Pickett sent to my sick room 
 a rare gem of a bouquet, artistically arranged, and when Miss Lum 
 Davis, when I was on a sick bed at the Orphan School, at Midway, 
 presented me with a sweet little nosegay. Oh, how I appreciated those 
 flowers ! One more question I asked myself. Are there not others 
 stretched on sick beds who would appreciate fresh flowers? The an- 
 swer came quick as a flash, "Yes, in the hospital there are sick and 
 poor, and they shall share my bounty." 
 
 My weariness all gone, I called to Carrie to come help me to cut 
 flowers. We bunched them into bouquets, and next morning we car- 
 ried them two miles to the hospital. I saw in one ward flowers scat- 
 tered about. The patients here had friends, who attended to their 
 wants. I asked the matron of the house if there were any wards to 
 which no flowers were sent; if there were, to them I would bring my 
 gifts. 
 
 "Oh," said the lady," "we have two wards very much neglected; 
 no one visits them. One lady comes sometimes on Sunday to read for 
 the Magdalenes. Their ward and a man's ward are never visited." 
 
 The matron conducted me to the neglected wards, where I gladdened 
 the eyes of many with my floral offering. Every week, while my flow- 
 ers lasted, they had a supply. I could only carry my flowers on Satur- 
 day, and this was not a visiting day; but permission was granted me 
 to visit when it was convenient to myself. I selected tracts and por- 
 tions of Scripture to read to the women in the Magdalene ward, also in 
 the men's ward. I read and talked to the poor unfortunate women,
 
 542 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 and many a tale of sorrow and wrong was poured into my ear. I 
 tried to direct them to a forgiving Savior, who invited all to come to 
 him, and he would not cast them out. They all listened with attention 
 to what I read and said. I persuaded one beautiful young girl to re- 
 turn to her parents, when she left the hospital, which she did, and was 
 received with open arms. Others promised amendment. On a sick 
 bed people have time to think, and are then very repentant; but it is 
 doubtful whether they always carry out their sick bed resolutions when 
 they return to health. The men were always glad to see me. There 
 was an educated, gentlemanly man, who was particularly so. He 
 loved flowers; they reminded him of a once happy home. Sickness 
 prevented my going to see my sick folks one week, I met the nurse 
 
 of the men's ward at church, and she said that Mr. W had so 
 
 missed my visit, and wondered if I would never come again. She said 
 
 she had taken the liberty to ask iTte to come again, as Mr. W was 
 
 very ill, and wished to see me. I told her I should go to them again. 
 I went to my once brilliant parterre, and gathered every blossom that 
 remained, and carried my last flowers to the sick man. As soon as he 
 saw me enter the door, he raised his hands and eyes. I walked straight 
 to him, and he clasped his two hands around the flowers lovingly, as 
 I said : 
 
 "These are my last, and they are for you." 
 
 "Oh, thank you, thank you, I may never want any more; but oh, 
 they are very beautiful. God bless you for bringing them to me." 
 
 We conversed on the Savior's love to sinners. He talked more 
 freely and more hopefully to me that day than he had ever done be- 
 fore. I read to him portions of Scripture suitable to hi*s case. Tears 
 of gratitude filled his eyes, as I said : 
 
 "Farewell! If we meet no more on earth, let us meet in heaven." 
 
 I saw him no more. My flowers cheered his last hours. They had 
 performed their mission, and who will deny the ministry of flowers? 
 
 I greatly desired to elevate the tastes of the parents of the school 
 children, and of the neighborhood generally. I got up a musical en- 
 tertainment for their benefit, which was a complete success. I had 
 many friends who volunteered their services when I proposed my plan 
 to them. I had tickets and circulars printed, hired a grand piano, had 
 the large room handsomely festooned, and decorated with flowers. 
 Tickets were sold so cheap that the poorest persons could buy one. I 
 shall quote what a leading paper said of it :
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 543 
 
 SOIREE, 
 
 On Friday evening a pleasant entertainment, consisting of vocal and instrumen- 
 tal music, recitations and readings, was given in the Bowden Public School by 
 several ladies and gentlemen taking part who were interested in the school, 
 which is conducted by Mrs. Dayies. A large number of the pupils were pres- 
 ent, and they were distinguishable from the remaining portion of the juveniles in 
 the house by their intelligent and decorous deportment throughout the evening. 
 The very large room was tastefully decorated for the occasion, and was crowded 
 to repletion. Mr. W. J. Magarey, J. P., was in the chair, and opened the proceed- 
 ings with a few remarks, in which he stated that the inhabitants of that neigh- 
 borhood were indebted to Mr. Angas for the large room in which they were 
 assembled. * * * He urged the parents to send their children to school; to 
 avail themselves of the opportunity they now had to have their children edu- 
 cated at small expense. Mrs. Davies, he said, was an enthusiastic lover of teach- 
 ing, and was never so well satisfied as when engaged in her important work. 
 
 The school children sang a school song. Other songs and duets were sung, 
 accompanied on the piano by Miss Sanderson, Mrs. Harris, Miss Staines, Mr. 
 
 S and Mr. J. W. S , and loudly applauded. Miss C played two 
 
 solos on the pianoforte. Mr. W recited "Young Lochinvar" with great 
 
 success, and Mr. S recited selections from Hans Breitman in a manner 
 
 which showed a full appreciation of the spirit of the author, and the ability to 
 give due effect to it. Others took part in the performances, and the chairman 
 apologized for the absence of Mr. W. H. Bundey, M. P., who had promised to 
 assist, but had taken a bad cold. A vote of thanks to the chairman, followed 
 by "God Save the Queen," brought the proceedings to a close. Among those 
 present were John H. Angas, M. P., H. S. Earl, M. A., Dr. J. Kidner, and 
 other influential gentlemen, interested in educational matters. 
 
 I wished to show these poor people that they were not overlooked; 
 that the very best people in the land took an interest in them, and 
 that they ought to take an interest in themselves, and send their chil- 
 dren regularly to school. I had written and invited Mr. Angas to 
 come to our soiree. It was too far for him to come, but his son was 
 
 there. Mr. A liked to have letters from me, informing liim about 
 
 our school. I told him of our successes, l)ut none of the weary toil 
 that led to them. He always wrote encouraging letters to me. I will 
 give a few extracts: 
 
 My Dear Mrs. Davies: — Your very pleasing and satisfactory letter of yesterday 
 gave Mr. Angas great pleasure. He has, therefore, desired me to write to you 
 and thank you for your good wishes with regard to himself, and also the pleasing 
 account relative to the school under your superintendence. I am sure he quite 
 appreciates your energy and perseverance in the great and good work. 
 
 We all sympathize with you in your late illness. I feel assured that no one 
 could take your place in subduing the wills of the city arabs. Therefore, the
 
 544 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 extra exertion you have made tells on you. Mr. Angas expressed with much 
 feeling his approval of the very wise way you disposed of your flowers to the 
 sick and dying in the hospital, and I am sure you feel recompensed with the pleas- 
 ure manifested by the grateful eyes and thankful looks of those worn and sad 
 countenances of the suffering. You will be glad to hear of Mr. H 's appro- 
 bation of your doings and management. * * * I hope much success will be 
 yours in reclaiming those out of the way — that strength of body and mind may 
 be given you to meet your labors. With kind regards and best wishes, 
 
 I am yours, very truly, J. Parsons. 
 
 My Dear Mrs. Davies : — You must make your arrangements to have a change 
 
 of air. I am glad that Mr. H was at your meeting, and that he paid you 
 
 a tribute so justly due you for your efforts. You may rest assured that you have 
 no more sincere friend to yourself than that Christian gentleman. I feel the 
 infirmities of age upon me, so that I can not be as active in labor as I used to 
 be. * * * I am yours truly, Geo. F. Angas. 
 
 Lindsay Park, December, i8']2. 
 
 Mr. Angas allowed me to buy books for all the children (not as 
 prizes, for I gave none ; I made learning itself the prize) as Christmas 
 presents from him. He was highly pleased with the character of our 
 school, and he was the most liberal patron. We had an examination 
 which highly pleased the parents and visitors. Our room, as usual, 
 was decorated with flowers. After the examination, the children sang 
 and recited pieces; then came refreshments; then games on the play- 
 ground; then the presentation of the books; then a vote of thanks 
 for the books, and a vote of thanks for the superintendent of the 
 school, Mrs. Davies, who, it was stated, deserved much credit for the 
 way in which she had taught and trained the scholars. 
 
 On Christmas day, all the poor, the halt and the blind from the 
 
 neighborhood had a dinner prepared for them at Mr. A 's cost, 
 
 and served up in the school-room. I had several young lady friends 
 to help me wait on the table, and help the guests — two sisters of Mrs. 
 Bundey, daughters of the Hon. (nor Sir) Wm. Milne, and several 
 others. We spent a pleasant and useful, if not a merry, Christmas. 
 I closed school for the holidays, and went away to Port Elliotte and 
 Port Victor, to lie on the beach among the shells and sand, and to 
 sleep. 
 
 One morning I was gathering flowers in my garden when two boys 
 passed. They raised their caps, and said : 
 
 "Good morning, ma'am." 
 
 I returned the salutation very politely, and chatted with them for a 
 few moments ere they passed on. This little incident pleased me,
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 545 
 
 because they were two of the boys who had tumbled into the school- 
 room and nearly overrun me in their rude rush for seats the first day I 
 opened school. Next morning I remarked in class that I had two 
 little gentlemen in school; they were young, but they were polite and 
 gentle in their manners, and they were not ashamed of being polite. 
 I soon found that I had more than two. They had raised their cour- 
 age up to the polite point, and when these two led off, the others soon 
 followed, till every one in school, from being roughs, were like little 
 gentlemen and ladies. At first, when politeness was taught them, 
 they laughed right out at the idea of being expected to be polite ; and 
 laughed at each other when they made- an attempt at any approach to 
 it. Rudeness now was the exception and was hooted down. My 
 butcher and baker paid my boys a tribute. They said they could now 
 drive along the streets without fear of annoyance from the street arabs 
 who formerly shouted about their horses and frightened them, so they 
 often ran away, doing considerable damage. 
 
 "Now," said they, "the boys behave like gentlemen. This school 
 has been a blessing to the neighborhood." 
 
 Of course, I told the boys how their good conduct was appreciated, 
 and encouraged them to continue in well-doing. 
 
 I often felt very weary after my day's work was done; I was losing 
 strength; I was excited with my work in the school-room and did not 
 feel any exhaustion till the school closed for the day; then I would 
 often feel complete exhaustion. The doctor told me that I was over- 
 taxing my nervous system; I would soon be ill. I would smile, and say,. 
 
 "Better wear out than rust out. I am willing to die at my post." 
 
 The doctor would shake his head, and say, 
 
 "It will not do." 
 
 Had I had a smaller school, or more efficient assistants, or been 
 less anxious to have my school a model one in the face of every diffi- 
 culty, or cared less for the well-being of those I had in charge, I 
 might have had an easier time ; but my responsibility was very great, 
 and I wished to do my duty to God by being faithful in my work. I 
 was cheered in spirit, if not strenthened in body, by letters from some 
 of my former pupils. One of my country arabs, who had been at 
 North Sydney as rough as any I had at Bowden, wrote to tell me that 
 he was in a city situation, a place of trust under government, and 
 doing well. He said : "What I am you have made me. I thank God 
 that you ever came to the bush to live, and took me by the hand, and 
 was my friend. You led me into the right road, and I hope to walk 
 35
 
 546 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 in it ; and others here whom you benefited will never forget what you 
 have done for them and for the neighborhood. They will feel ever 
 grateful to you." He finished with a P. S. : "Please to correct ray 
 letters as you used to do; I shall be twenty year's old in October." 
 
 This boy's letter, gushing with gratitude, inspired me with new life 
 for the present. I felt encouraged to work, for my strength at North 
 Sydney had not been spent in vain. The seed I had planted there 
 was bearing fruit. I was cheered, and rose from a sick-bed encour- 
 aged to persevere in my work of sowing seed here, hoping fruit would 
 come by and by. 
 
 I had an examination usually just before our midwinter (June) and 
 our midsummer (December) holidays. The examiners had always 
 been chosen for me, and though they .were educated gentlemen, they 
 were not educators ; consequently, though they and everybody else were 
 pleased with the results, I never was. I had been accustomed to 
 thorough and searching examinations at my former school, by edu- 
 cators who stood between the public and me and shared my responsi- 
 bility. But here my responsibility was treble what it had been. Be- 
 tween the examinations, I had to face a troublesome community, who 
 thought their children ought to be taught their way, and my teachers 
 thought the people were in the right. I taught my own way never- 
 theless, but had too much to do in stemming cross-currents. 
 
 At one examination I had a Rev. to examine a class in geog- 
 raphy. He was telling them something about a place in a certain 
 country, when some of the hands went up. Some of the boys said: 
 
 "Please, sir, it is not there." 
 
 "Where then?" said the examiner. 
 
 They told him, and he said good humoredly, 
 
 "I do believe you know more about geography than I do. You 
 certainly have done well." 
 
 I received great praise for teaching them so well. I bowed stiffly, 
 and mentally said, "What do you know of what they have learned, or 
 wliat they have been taught?" He was a popular minister; what he 
 said was believed without knowledge, and his report pleased all but me. 
 
 At another examination. Dr. was invited to conduct it. He 
 
 proposed to examine a class on natural history. Said the doctor, 
 
 "Madam, what shall it be?" 
 
 "Oh," said I, smiling, "a cat or a whale." 
 
 "Well, young folks," said the doctor, turning to the class, "can you 
 tell me anything of that great fish, the whale?"
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 547 
 
 Up went all hands, and "please, sir," came from more than one, 
 "the whale is not a fish." 
 
 "What then?" queried the doctor. 
 
 "It is an animal with lungs to breathe the air, with a double circula- 
 tion, and it belongs to the class mammalia." 
 
 The doctor asked me to examine the children ; when I had finished, 
 he addressed the class, and said : 
 
 "I confess that you know more about the whale than I do. Had 
 your teacher asked me the questions she asked you, I could not have 
 answered her." 
 
 I asked the class to note the doctor's confession. Of course these 
 examinations passed off with great eclat, seeing tlie scholars knew more 
 about their studies than either doctor or minister. I determined 
 that I would myself invite competent examiners, who were not only 
 scholars, but educators, to come, and thoroughly examine my school. 
 I wanted those who could judge what children ought to know, and 
 who knew how to draw it out of the children. Therefore, I asked, as 
 a favor, the Messrs. Whinnam, father and son, principal and professor 
 of the Grammar School, N. A., to examine my school. They con- 
 sented with pleasure, and came to our June examination. The chil- 
 dren were all in place. They were to be truly tested as to what they 
 knew, and to be compared with other children of their class in other 
 
 schools. I had Scripture lessons every morning, and Mr. H , who 
 
 was secretary to Mr. Angas, and a preacher, examined the whole school 
 on Bible lessons for nearly two hours. The Gospels and Acts of Apos- 
 tles, Paul's various journeys and voyages, with the geography and 
 topography of the places, were the subjects. They acquitted them- 
 selves to my entire satisfaction, and surprised the examiner. Mr. 
 Whinnam next took two classes in grammar. When he had finished, 
 he addressed them thus : 
 
 "Doys, you are young, and when Mrs. Davies asked- me-to examine 
 you in grammar, I did not think you could know much about that 
 study; but your knowledge of it astonishes me, and you understand 
 everything you have learned, I must say again, that you astonish and 
 please me, especially as you have not learned from books, nor do you 
 repeat by rote. Tet me tell you, I have had young gentlemen come 
 to my school, as tall as myself, from other high schools, to finish with 
 me, and they have not known as much grammar as you do, though 
 they have been studying books for a long time. I^Tiuh labor must 
 have been expended upon you ; but you have acquitted yourselves far
 
 548 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 beyond my expectations, even were you much older than you are." 
 
 Some of these children knew nothing when they came to school; 
 however, I held out every inducement for them to learn, and to try to 
 excel in what they did learn. They were next examined on arithmetic, 
 
 and Mr. W commenced in simple numbers. I asked him to go 
 
 higher, as the boys were smiling at such easy work. They answered 
 every question however difficult. His praise of them was unqualified. 
 While he was telling them of his pleasure and astonishment, I placed 
 
 a difficult problem on the blackboard. Mr. W was asked to try 
 
 the boys on that. He said: 
 
 "I will with pleasure; but I do not expect them to do it." 
 
 They led him through every step to a correct solution, without the 
 least difficulty or hesitancy. The children in everything gave high 
 satisfaction, and astonished the examiners, who said they had exam- 
 ined many schools in the colony, which had higher pretensions, and 
 older scholars from the best families, and not one of them had passed 
 such an examination. Two things I learned from the gentlemen's re- 
 marks : first, that the schools of South Australia were inferior to those 
 in New South Wales; and that poor men's children with proper train- 
 ing could learn as well as those of the rich men. 
 
 I had difficulties to contend with here as elsewhere. One was the 
 continual coming and going of the children, and their not staying long 
 at a time. From certain quarters I had persistent opposition, and obsta- 
 cles thrown in my way, in order that I should not teach these poor chil- 
 dren so much, just because they were poor, and could not pay at a 
 high-priced school. I said once : 
 
 "I shall teach these children, just because they are poor, all and 
 everything they can learn in the time they are allowed to remain at 
 school. Their poverty shall not lie in their way to advancement. I 
 wish them to stand high among their peers. I do not wish to take 
 them out of the sphere in which God has placed them, but to make 
 them useful in it. Hence all my energies shall be bent to train and 
 instruct them intellectually, morally and religiously." 
 
 Mr. Angas wrote me a very kind letter, congratulating me on the 
 success of our school, and his great pleasure at having the report of 
 the Messrs. W . 
 
 "I now," said he, "have the pleasure to enclose my check for ^20 
 sterling ($100), as a donation, and an evidence of my high appreciation 
 and approval of your efforts to benefit the young of the surrounding 
 neighborhoods."
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 549 
 
 All this was pleasant, but my strength was ebbing. Any extra ex- 
 ertion that I put forth affected my head. At times, when in the act 
 of giving a lesson (my lessons were oral), or an illustration on the 
 blackboard, I would suddenly become unconscious of what I was say- 
 ing, and to keep from falling, had often to lie down for a few minutes, 
 then up to my work again. I felt what the doctor had said, "this will 
 not do." Though I felt ill, I disliked to give up, and I tried in every 
 way to keep up without going to bed. I had to consult the doctor for 
 my head, and he said I was dangerously ill ; but still I went on work- 
 ing. I felt exceedingly grateful to my friends at this time, for their 
 kindness to me. They knew not how ill I was, or how much I needed 
 kindness, or how grateful I was for it. The Hon. P. Santo and young- 
 est daughter, Mrs. Wm. M , Hon. W. H. and Mrs. Bundey, were 
 
 all kind, and their kindness is written on my heart, aad also registered 
 in heaven. 
 
 Our evangelist, Mr. Gore, purposed visiting his relatives in America. 
 I wished to make a visit, and take the trip to America with him, but 
 did not see a way in which to leave my work for a while. There were 
 three old ladies in America that I had a great desire to see, before they 
 had finished their pilgrimage, viz.: Mrs. Alexander Campbell, Mrs. 
 John Gano and Mrs. Smith. I thought, if I could make my visit at 
 this time, my wish would be gratified, and my health restored. I found 
 that Mrs. Gore had consented to accompany her husband. I felt that 
 I had a good opportunity to travel with friends, and I wrote to Mr. 
 Angas to ask his consent to my going, telling him of my twofold object, 
 viz.: to see my friends, and to regain my health. Mr. A cheer- 
 fully consented, and entered into my plans pleasantly. Suddenly, 
 from some cause, however, he changed his mind. He wrote to me, to 
 say he thought no one could take charge, and perform the duties of 
 the establishment but myself, and I had better postpone my visit to 
 some future day. His letter was kind, but the chill of disappointment 
 touched my heart. I wrote to him, and said I was willing to remain 
 at my post, but I keenly felt the disappointment. As I had felt before, 
 so I felt now. My whole head was sick, and my heart was faint, and 
 grew fainter still, but I worked on. I went to consult the doctor about 
 the strange feelings that I had. 
 
 "As your friend, as well as your physician, I advise you to quit 
 working for a year, and go somewhere," he said. 
 
 "Oh, I wish I could, but I can not," I said. 
 
 "Can not!" he exclaimed. "Then in three months you will be in 
 your grave." '
 
 5^0 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 ' 'I must then die at my post. I had thought to go to America with 
 friends, but had to give it up." 
 
 "As you value your life, do not give it up. You must give up work. 
 I told you nine months ago you were working too hard, you could not 
 stand it. It has now come to a crisis, and you must quit your work 
 entirely for a time, or you must die as I have told you ; or still worse, 
 you might have a disease of the nerves that you would never get over." 
 
 His emphatic manner startled me. I said : 
 
 "You have diagnosed my case; what is the name of my disease?" 
 
 "We, the faculty, call it brain fag; and your brain must rest, for 
 you are in danger." 
 
 I asked him if he would testify on paper what he had said to me. 
 This he did at once by writing out a certificate. This I requested, as 
 there were some who did not understand my case, or the danger I was 
 in, and I could not tell them. I again wrote to Mr. Angas, and in- 
 closed the following note : 
 
 Mrs. Davies has consulted me about the state of her health. She is suffering 
 from an over-wrought brain and body. Cessation of the labors which have 
 brought about this condition I think absolutely necessary. I have, therefore, 
 advised her to discontinue her school duties. Andrew Millar, M. D. 
 
 Franklin Street, Adelaide, gtk March, 1874. 
 
 He now saw the necessity of the case, and willingly consented to 
 my stopping work, but was sorry for the occasion of it. The excite- 
 ment consequent on trying to find a lady competent and willing to 
 take charge of my school and premises for one year; selling off part 
 of my furniture; packing up my books and other valuables that were 
 to remain till my return, and preparing for my voyage, was almost too 
 much for my tortured nerves. Oh, how I wished for rest! 
 
 ♦'Father, when o'er my trembling heart 
 
 Doubt's gathering shadows brood ; 
 When faith in thee almost departs. 
 
 And gloomiest fears intrude, 
 Forsake me not, O God of grace. 
 
 But send these fears relief. 
 Grant me again to see thy face ; 
 
 Lord help mine unbelief." 
 
 One morning as I went into the school-room a number of the pupils 
 were standing on the floor. As I passed in they closed round me, 
 and one of them read this paper :
 
 THIRD VOYAGE TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA, TEACHING IN ADELAIDE. 55 I 
 
 Dear Mrs. Davies : — We, your scholars, are very sorry you have to leave us on 
 account of your health. We, therefore, hope that when you return from this 
 long trip, which you are about to take, you will be in good health, and we also 
 hope that when you return you will find as many children at school as there are 
 now. We wish to make you this small present, to show you our gratitude for 
 the manner in which you have taught us, and the trouble you have taken to train 
 us to be good children and good scholars. 
 
 We remain, dear Mrs. Davies, your affectionate pupils, 
 
 Agnes Dalylish, in behalf of the school. 
 
 The parting gift was an elegant ring ; one large opal, two emeralds, 
 and two amethysts, handsomely set in Australian gold. I was sur- 
 prised and deeply moved by this token of kindness and love from 
 these children. I thanked them with broken voice. All of them said 
 they would pray for me every day, and read a chapter, and commit 
 some verses every day, till my return. This they thought would 
 please me, and so it did, as I knew they were in earnest. And these 
 were some of the wildest and most turbulent spirits I had to deal with 
 at first. I wept sore at parting with my children ; for the thought oc- 
 curred to me that I might see them no more forever. I committed 
 them all to God, took the parting hand, and spoke the word, farewell! 
 
 Mr. Angas' secretary thought I ought to bind myself to return in a 
 year. I told him that was my purpose, if I Hved and had no provi- 
 dential hindrance. He said I ought to write a letter to the effect that 
 I would return on the day twelve months after my departure. I said 
 to this very exact man, with a grim smile : 
 
 "Suppose I am within sight of the port a day before the time, and 
 baffling winds keep me from landing till the day after the time, what 
 then?" 
 
 I said that I was willing to do everything that was right, but my 
 poor head was not capable of writing any kind of letter of agreement. 
 
 The least excitement made me worse. Mr. H wrote a document, 
 
 and I put my signature to it. I wrote a short note of farewell to Mr. 
 Angas, to which he replied as follows: 
 
 Z^c-az-il/Wa/w;— I received your kind letter of 15th inst. ♦ * * I suppose 
 you have been connected wiih the management of the school at Bowden for 
 more than three years, during which time you have conducted that large estab- 
 lishment with great skill and judgment, to the satisfaction of all concerned, in 
 the intellectual, moral and religious education of the lower classes, while your 
 personal residence at Bowden has been exercising an important influence for 
 good over the people in the neighborhood, I trust that you will enjoy a safe 
 voyage out and home again, and obtain in the United States much valuable In-
 
 552 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 formation that may be imparted to others after your return to Bowden, where 
 you will be most cordially received by all those who have been benefited by 
 your residence amongst them. Praying the Lord to have you under his protec- 
 tion until we see you again, 
 
 I am, dear Mrs. Davies, yours truly, Geo. F. Angas. 
 
 April jS, 1S74. 
 
 The night before we took ship to Melbourne — Mr. and Mrs. Gore, 
 Mr. Mark Colhs and myself — the church had a tea-party, at which 
 were many friends from the country, who had come to give the part- 
 ing hand to the intended voyagers. It was a dreadful night to me. I 
 had been threatened with death or a life-long disease. This was the 
 third time I had to leave the colony with death staring me in the face. 
 No one in that crowd knew what I suffered mentally that night. I did 
 not know whether I could live till I reached America, but I wished to 
 be on the sea. Next day a large crowd took the train to the port to 
 
 see the voyagers set sail. Mr. W. M drove me, with one or two 
 
 others, to the ship. Friend after friend took the parting hand, and 
 when the ship loosed from her moorings, I sat as one bereft of all 
 sensation. I shed no tears when I saw friends receding from view ; 
 my tears were all gone and the fountain dried up. "Help, O Father. 
 Strengthen the fainting heart," was my prayer.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 
 
 The vessel soon began to roll about when she reached the gulf; we 
 began to look pale about the lips, and Mrs. Gore and myself went 
 down to our berths while yet we were able to walk. The vessel 
 bounded over the billows, but I cared little for the tossing. I went on 
 deck but once on our voyage to Melbourne. It was a singular coinci- 
 dence that four years before Mr. Bundey was a fellow-passenger to 
 Adelaide, and now, when I was leaving Adelaide, he was again my 
 fellow-passenger. As he and Sir Richard Hanson, Judge of the 
 Supreme Court, and some other distinguished lawyers, were about to 
 
 land, I came on deck to say good-bye to Mr. B . We landed at 
 
 Melbourne without accident, remained a week, and heard Bro. Martin 
 preach. He was another American evangelist who had been sent for, 
 and he was hard at work. Mrs. Gore's father-in-law, Mr. Santo, and 
 a sister, came to Melbourne with them, and parted with us when we 
 reshipped for Sydney, New South Wales. 
 
 Again a rough sea and a rolling ship sent us to our berths. We 
 were very sick, and kept our beds till we reached Sydney Heads, 
 when a fearful storm came on ; but we got inside the harbor and were 
 safe, though the storm raged, and we landed in the midst of thunder 
 and lightning and rain. I went to a hotel the first night, as no one 
 knew of my arrival. After that I sojourned at my old friend Mr. 
 Dixon's, and was handsomely entertained for the remainder of my 
 stay in Sydney. Mrs. Dixson placed her carriage and driver at my 
 disposal, so I went here and there, and made good use of my time. 
 
 At the Department of the Council of Education I sent up my card 
 to Mr. Wilkins. He was delighted to see me. He sent a messenger 
 to tell of my advent to my two friends and former respected inspect- 
 ors. We were all glad to see each other. They said when I returned 
 from the States they would not allow me to go bark to Adelaide again. 
 I spent a pleasant day with each of their families. I took a boat, 
 crossed the ferry, hired a carriage, and drove up to North Sydney, 
 my old pioneer ground. I visited the school first. As I looked 
 
 (553)
 
 554 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 round the well-filled room, I saw faces that I knew. Four years, how- 
 ever, had made a great change in the size of the little ones ; they had 
 grown large, and the larger ones had left. The master was engaged 
 and I did not like to interrupt, but when through with his lesson, I 
 asked some of the children if they knew me ? 
 
 "O yes; our former mistress." 
 
 "What!" said the master, "are you the lady who built this house 
 and established this school, and of whom I have heard so much?" 
 
 "I am she." 
 
 He invited me to spend the day with them and become acquainted 
 with his wife ; she would be so happy. I said I had but a few min- 
 utes to stay; he must excuse me, I had to drive round the village. So 
 I bowed good-day and drove round. I saw several new houses and 
 strange faces. A new chapel had been built. The inhabitants had 
 grown to six hundred, and the school-room could not accommodate so 
 many. The place had gone on steadily improving, and no public 
 house or drinking saloon had as yet spoiled the village with its pres- 
 ence. Oh, how it gladdened my heart when I heard some of the 
 people, while talking of the improved state of things, say : 
 
 "You have done it all; had God not put it into your heart to come 
 to this unbroken wilderness twelve years ago, amongst such a bad lot 
 of us, what would have become of us? what would have become of 
 us? Where would our children have been? Oh, think of it; God 
 will bless you sure." 
 
 "I hope so," said I, while grateful tears filled my eyes. 
 
 I heard good accounts of all my former pupils; some more of them 
 had married, and some of the little ones were still at school. I could 
 not stay long with these grateful people. I hoped God would keep 
 them from evil. I left them with a promise that when I returned I 
 would pay them a longer visit. I called on Dr. Ward, who had been 
 so kind to me, the sick stranger. 
 
 I was glad to see everybody, if but for a few minutes. Bro. Green, 
 who had built up a Christian Church at Sydney, had gone to Victoria, 
 and at present they had no preacher, till the one they had sent for 
 from America should come. The church had a tea-party, at which I 
 met several of my Baptist friends, who had come over to our ranks 
 after reading Mr. Campbell's works, and studying the Bible more. 
 Yet it seems hard work to get the truth to prevail at Sydney, all pow- 
 erful as it is. I hope the day is not far distant, when the people will 
 respond to the gospel call.
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 555 
 
 On the 9th of May, we went on board the S. S. City of Adelaide, 
 Mr. Brown, master. As soon as we boarded this, our third ship, I re- 
 marked to Mrs. G , that Captain Brown had command of our last 
 
 ship. He overheard my remark, and came to us, and explained why 
 he had been transferred. He proved a very pleasant, kind, and oblig- 
 ing commander. 
 
 Just before sailing, two of my North Sydney pupils, one, the boy who 
 had cheered me, while in Australia, with his letters; the other, his 
 sister, brought me a great basket of oranges to eat on the voyage. I 
 handed over to the stewardess several dozen, and many more to the 
 sick passengers. Robert, a tall, genteel-looking youth, put a letter 
 into my hand, saying, 
 
 'Tlease read that after you sail," and then the brother and sister 
 left me to sail away over the Pacific once more. The letter ran thus : 
 
 JMv dear Mrs. Davies : — I expect in a few hours you will have sailed away from 
 our shores, and have taken the last look of them for many months. I purpose 
 writing to you every mail. * » * I am thinking of all your kind deeds to us, 
 and the ill-treatment you received at our hands, when you came to us first. You 
 left us, now you are leaving Australia. All things work together for good to 
 them who love God. In years to come, I shall, as I do now, look back to the 
 happy period of my life, which was spent under your guidance and tuition, and 
 however numerous the friends I may gain, you may rest assured that my earliest 
 and best friend, who sought us out, and came amongst us at North Sydney, shall 
 never be forgotten. Nothing remains for me now, but to express my heart-felt 
 thanks for what you have done for me, and to pray that you may experience un- 
 interrupted health and happiness till your return to us, and I assure you, I shall 
 ever remain, my dear I^Irs. Davies, Yours sincerely, 
 
 RoBT. McLelland. 
 
 What worked the wondrous change in the hearts and lives of the 
 young people of North Sydney? what enlightened their darkened un- 
 derstandings? "Hail, sacred truth! thy piercing rays" have enlightened 
 the sin-stained soul. It was thy friendly word, dear Lord, that aided 
 me in my arduous task. It is a glorious word; it sheds a luster all 
 around. It is a lamp to the feet, and a light to the path. Without 
 the Bible I should have been powerless for good at North Sydney. 
 Gracious, merciful Father, forbid that, while I bring, or try to bring, 
 others to Christ, I shall be a castaway myself. 
 
 We were breasting the billows, and bending toward the Fiji Islands, 
 which lie near South latitude 15°, and 180° East longitude. Here we 
 were to meet a ship from New Zealand, that was to take us toSan 
 Francisco. As we nearcd this group, I was much interested in looking
 
 55^5 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. ' 
 
 for the coral reefs. I could see away in the distance a black speck, 
 Avith a belt of foam encircling it. On a nearer approach, we saw the 
 conical island of Kandavan sitting in the midst of a lagoon of smooth 
 water, and that surrounded by a coral reef, over which the waters of 
 the Pacific were breaking, covering the encircling reef with foam. We 
 found the opening in the reef, and entered the lagoon, and anchored 
 near a ship of war of Her Majesty's, which was stationed here. The 
 branching coral is of rarest beauty, tinting the water with the most 
 brilliant hues of pink, purj^le, green and yellow reflections. The soil 
 of this group is luxuriantly fertile, and a soft, delicious atmosphere rests 
 over it. The air is loaded with the fragrance of aromatic shrubs of a 
 tropical clime. Five kinds of cocoanut, and seven kinds of bread fruit, 
 plantains, pawpaws, bananas, and other kinds of tropical fruits grow in 
 abundance. Vegetation rich and rank grows down to the water's edge. 
 No need of chattering monkeys to climb the tall palm trees to gather 
 the fruit; the little naked humans were equal to the situation, and be- 
 came it well ; monkeys could not run up a tree faster, or hold on with 
 fingers and toes, and even with teeth, with more tenacity, than these 
 children of the tropics. 
 
 We let go our anchor on Sunday morning, 17th of May, at early 
 dawn. We were all astir, looking out for the other ships, but they 
 were not in sight. The captain asked me if I would like to visit the 
 island; if so, he would be pleased to take me in his gig. I certainly 
 wished to see the island, and gladly accepted his kind offer. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gore and some others put off" in the gig; but in crossing the 
 opening, the rush of water from the ocean caused a great commotion, 
 and the gig, being overloaded, was in danger. The large pilot boat 
 was hailed, and we all clambered into it. It had a deck, and the ladies 
 sat down on it. There were no seats, and only a rail for a bulwark, 
 against which the gentlemen leaned. A grave, dignified old gentle- 
 man stood opposite to me. The little vessel gave a tremendous 
 lurch. The water swept over the deck, and the old gentleman let 
 go his hold, and fell forward on his knees beside me. I thought 
 he was hurt, but the position was so ludicrous, I had to laugh. 
 We all laughed at Lord Charles Harvey being on his knees by 
 me. Thus we were introduced, and we became very good friends. 
 The water became shallower as we neared the shore; we then left the 
 pilot boat, and went nearer the land in canoes. The canoes were 
 trunks of trees hollowed out. Mrs. Gore and myself were perched on 
 one of these frail floaters, with two of the stalwart Fijians wading knee
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 557 
 
 deep piloting the canoe over the coral bottom. Finally the canoe 
 rested on the coral points, and could float no nearer to the shore. We 
 
 had no sooner stopped, than one of the savages picked up Mrs. G , 
 
 and carried her off toward the shore. Another laid strong hands on 
 me, but I refused to be carried in the like fashion; I preferred going 
 back to the ship. The captain had afforded us some mirth at his own 
 expense; when we saw him carried on the back of one of these dusky 
 burden-bearers, we laughed at the ludicrous spectacle. Now he deter- 
 mined to have fun at our expense. He sent off one of his officers to 
 help the indignant darky, who would not let me go. They two made 
 a chair for me with both their hands, on which I sat. As I suddenly 
 drew back my hand from the naked shoulder of the savage, I lost my 
 balance, and should have fallen backward into the sea; but I as quickly 
 threw my arm round his neck, and held him fast, to the infinite delight 
 of the captain, who laughed and clapped his hands. We were all 
 landed safely at the base of a cone, which rested in the water. Two 
 strong natives helped us up the face of a rock several feet high; then 
 we climbed to the top of the cone. From the apex of the cone we had 
 a magnificent view. Several cones rose sheer out of the lagoon, and 
 were connected by narrow isthmuses, and all were protected by the 
 coral wall, which bade defiance to the approach of the ocean. I heard 
 the agent say there was a church service ; but that, of course, no one 
 cared to hear the savages preach. This was a mistake. I inquired 
 
 the way to the chapel, and started for it. Mrs. G followed, and 
 
 so did several gentlemen, who were expecting rare sport from the fright 
 of the savages at the appearance of the elegantly dressed strangers. 
 We reached the enclosure where stood the modest chapel, about sixty 
 feet long and twenty feet wide. It was enclosed by a wall two feet 
 high, made of twisted straw and mud, and the trunk of a tree on each 
 side of the wall formed a stile. Mr. and Mrs. Gore and myself walked 
 in at the open door, and sat down at the foot of the pulpit on the trunk 
 of a tree, that supported the front of the platform. The exquisites of 
 high civilization boisterously jumped over the wall, and rushed to the 
 openings of the chapel — it had no doors. They were brought to a 
 stand-still at the entrance of the house. The sight which met their 
 eyes said, thus far, and no farther, shall ye come. The rude savages 
 were all clothed, men and women, alike, in a strip of calico tied like 
 a sash around their loins. They were a la Tun on the mat-covered 
 floor, each with a Bible and hymn-book in hand, and so profoundly 
 were they absorbed in the preacher's theme, that instead of taking
 
 558 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 flight at the sight of the strangers, they took not the least notice of 
 them. The latter stood at the doors, uncovered their heads before 
 those whose undivided attention was given to things divine. A man 
 of darker hue, from an adjacent isle, was the missionary. He was 
 reading when we went in. When through, he said, 
 
 "Let us pray." 
 . Then all knelt, and a few prostrated themselves. A hymn was sung. 
 I was charmed with the pathos, power and melody of the soft, deep- 
 toned voices. I was charmed, though I did not know a word of their 
 language. 
 
 A song was sung to the tune of "Old Hundred." Mrs. G and 
 
 I chimed in, but we were soon lost in their grander strains. When 
 the preacher read a chapter, all found it in their Bibles and followed the 
 preacher. How many of our Christian Churches in America shall we 
 enter and find every member of the congregation with Bible and hymn- 
 book in hand, ready when the chapter and song are given out to read and 
 sing? How many Christian men and women anywhere would give 
 their undivided attention to their preacher, while a dozen of these 
 semi-nude savages walked into their place of worship, or stood around 
 their doors? Our dress of different kinds was as strange to them as 
 theirs to us would be, and why should these dusky sons of the South- 
 ern Seas be more devout, more sincere and more like true worshipers 
 than some of us ? I think in other things we could learn of them. 
 When some of the gentlemen wished to have cocoanuts, the children 
 would climb to the top of the tall palms with alacrity, place a nut 
 under each arm, descend, and present the nuts; and when offered 
 money as the price of the fruit, 
 
 "No trade on Sunday," said the savage, and no money was received. 
 
 Can all who trade in our country say to their customers, "No trade 
 on Sunday?" 
 
 Another lesson we could take if we would. They are a missionary 
 people. On Monday when they came with their canoes laden with 
 all kinds of fruits, shells, native cloth, and other articles, they received 
 high prices for every article they sold. I asked what they did with 
 all the money they received, as they did not need it for clothing. 
 I was told all they earned was put into the missionary-box, and that 
 the last month ;!£^40, or $200, was put in it. I hoped that these sim- 
 ple, Christianized natives would never become civilized, if vice was 
 the badge of civilization. 
 
 The pathway uphill was difficult, but willing feet walked beside us.
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 559 
 
 and strong arms cleared the pathway, pushing aside the tall, wet grass, 
 and standing on it till we passed. These men are no longer cannibals, 
 but good-natured Christians. They are great swimmers, and live much 
 in the water. It was quite amusing and exciting to see a number of 
 boys and men plunge heels over head, and dive to a great depth after 
 a piece of money thrown into the water. The most expert would 
 catch the coin, put it in his mouth, rise to the surface, and present it 
 to the person who had dropped it. Of course, he was told to keep it. 
 About a dozen divers were far down in the water, and we were all 
 intently watching them, when, to our great horror, we saw a huge 
 shark gliding over the divers, as if choosing his prey. "A shark! a 
 shark!" was shouted from stem to stern of the ship. 
 
 The shark is a coward, though fierce and voracious. The divers 
 splashed the water at a great rate, the monster darted away, then re- 
 turned to be again fought off with splashing the water, till all the men 
 boarded their canoes or the ship in safety. The scene was very ex- 
 citing. 
 
 We were serenaded by the crew of H. M. S. Rosaria, and while 
 listening to the grand vocal and instrumental music, we saw a beauti- 
 ful lunar rainbow, the first I had ever seen. We had another pleasant 
 visit on shore on Monday. The governor, his wife and two daughters 
 dined on board. It was said the old man had eaten twelve human 
 beings in times gone by. He and his wife were huge in size, coarse 
 in features, and the ugliest of all I had seen at Kandavau. The two 
 girls were like young giantesses, but very good looking. They were 
 dressed for the occasion in short, bright-colored skirts, with low bodies 
 hanging loose round the waist. The old couple were wrapped up in 
 what looked like sheets. 
 
 Our captain was anxiously looking out for the ships from their re- 
 spective ports. On the third day after our arrival in the lagoon, "Sail, 
 ho!" was shouted from the lookout, and we saw with keen interest, 
 through the reef-builder's opening, the ship Tariarixom San Francisco. 
 She came boldly up along side our ship. Again, "Sail, ho!" was 
 shouted from the lookout, and in sailed the ship Cyphrenes from New 
 Zealand. She came along side also, and the three ships were firmly 
 lashed together. We visited each other's ships, and we met on board 
 the Tartar Brother and Sister Haly, the American evangelist that tlie 
 Sydney Christian Church had sent for. We spent a few pleasant hours 
 together. Brother and Sister Gore, Brother Collis and myself were 
 transferred from tlie good ship City of Adelaide and her pleasant cap-
 
 560 THE STORY OF AN KARNEST LIFE. 
 
 tain, to the Cyphrenes, our fourth ship since our voyage began. Good- 
 byes were spoken, the lashings untied, the anchors weighed, the ships 
 parted, and all three steamed out beyond the encircling belt of coral; 
 then each went on her way to a different point of the compass. 
 
 On the 20th of May, which was Wednesday, we sailed from Kanda- 
 vau at noon. The next day it was still Wednesday, the 20th of May. 
 Thus we had two Wednesdays in one week, and two 2oths of May in 
 one month. We were in the antipodes of the meridian of Greenwich, 
 179° 18' west longitude, 14° 40' south latitude. When I was well 
 enough to be entertained, I had no lack of entertainers. Lord Chas. 
 Harvey was a missionary, and had visited almost all the known South 
 Sea Islands. His descriptive powers were superior, and we had many 
 a long conversation. He told me it would be worth my trouble if I 
 could spend one or three months at the Sandwich Islands, and visit 
 every one of the group. He was going to remain there for some time. 
 He preached for us. Foster, the great spiritualist, thought to enter- 
 tain me. He sat opposite to me at table. I disliked him and avoided 
 him, but he was very kind, and tried to be attentive. I think he had 
 an idea that he could convert me, and his desire to do so was very 
 great. 
 
 After traveling thousands of miles without seeing anything on the 
 waste of water, at last, "land, ho!" was shouted from the maintop, 
 and we entered the waters of the Hawaiian Group. Expectation was 
 on tiptoe. It was a mistake ; for as we looked on the high mountains, 
 deep glens, and picturesque scenery, all vanished in thin air. The 
 beautiful clouds had deceived us. We were anxious for the morrow's 
 sun to show us land sure enough. 
 
 At midnight our propeller ceased its incessant, disagreeable sound. 
 The ship stood still about three miles from Honolulu. The crimson 
 harbor light shone out conspicuously among the many buoy lights 
 which marked the coral reefs. Before daylight the natives in their 
 canoes passed us in great numbers on the way to their fishing grounds, 
 staring at us and our great ship with much interest. Presently the 
 burly pilot came on board and asked the significant question, 
 
 "Is all well?" 
 
 The response, "All's well," being given, he took charge of the ship. 
 We were approaching the beautiful islands which Captain Cook dis- 
 covered in 1778, and where he met from the treacherous natives a cruel 
 death. 
 
 Sunrise on the Sandwich Islands presents one of the most gorgeous
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. $6 1 
 
 scenes imaginable. The houses of Honolulu nestle amid trees of 
 tropical growth, towering in beauty above them. The islands have 
 long been celebrated for their rich and varied productions. Like the 
 Fijis, they are surrounded by a belt of coral reefs, rnd just inside 
 of the breakers that dash over the low, sandy beach, and spend 
 their strength against the high, basaltic cliffs, are piles of lava on the 
 shore. Enormous conical craters and scoraceous lava indicate that 
 they were once the seat of active volcanoes. To the right is the 
 D — 's Punch-bowl, an object of great curiosity. It is an extinct vol- 
 canic mountain, perfectly round; its sides are perfectly barren; the 
 inside is quite hollow, forming an immense bowl, and this bowl is 
 filled with water, the best kind of punch. As we entered the narrow 
 channel in the reef, we saw the great coral wall on each side of us, 
 built by the tiny workers. The great wall of China can not compare 
 with it. The coralines have left an opening wide enough to allow the 
 three-winged herald of Christianity, civilization and commerce to enter. 
 We are fairly inside the wall, and the rich, pea-green color of the 
 lagoon contrasts beautifully with the dark blue of the great deep. 
 The line of reef is marked by the breaking of the sea over it in feath- 
 ery foam, which sparkles with rainbow tints when the rising sun shines 
 upon it. Beyond this fringe of foam, beautiful, but dangerous, lies 
 the vasty deep. The semi-civilized Sandwich Islanders are a curious, 
 interesting people. Their dress is like that of tropical birds, of bright 
 hues. The men wear blue pants and yellow jackets, or red or green 
 pants and blue jackets, and red kerchiefs round their necks. The 
 women are no less conspicuous in their brilliant colors and costumes. 
 The color or material of a dress may be worn to suit the purse or taste 
 of the wearer ; but the fashion or form is the same on all, viz. : a l(|jig 
 flowing robe, gathered into a yoke on the shoulders and hanging loose 
 therefrom. This dress is very convenient, as these brown beauties, 
 with blue-black hair and pearly teeth, are great equestrians, and, Mex- 
 ican-like, straddle the saddle when riding. They are fearless riders. 
 A few tawnies were allowed to come on board with their delicious 
 fruits — pineapples, rose-apples, plantains, limes, oranges, quavas, 
 strawberries, cocoanuts and melons of every kind. They were very 
 luscious and quite acceptable in this tropical climate. We landed and 
 found Honolulu a busy, thriving town. The principal business men, 
 enterprising Americans. The population is composed of English, 
 Americans, Chinese, Hawaiians, Samawaus and negroes. Great credit 
 is due to the natives of this group of islands. They embraced 
 36
 
 ^62 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 Christianity, adopted civilization, its habits and customs, studied the 
 laws of the great nations of the world, and abandoned cannibalism. 
 The chiefs gave up their power, and the tribes ceased to envy and 
 fight one another. They formed a new government, a limited mon- 
 archy, electing a king and a parliament. The city has -quite a respect- 
 able appearance. The architecture is good. The king's palace, 
 parliament house, town hall and court-house buildings would do credit 
 to a higher civilization. The first inquiry on landing was, where are 
 the most interesting objects to be found on the island? A party of 
 six, as merry as a May morning, hired a carriage and started off in 
 fine spirits to visit the wonderfully interesting valley of Pali. Pali 
 was once the principal goddess of the Sandwich Islanders, and every- 
 thing sublime was associated with her; hence the name of this fearfully 
 grand place. Molten lava, and bundles of capillary glass, which the 
 natives call Pali's hair, are here found with basaltic walls of tremend- 
 ous height and grandeur. 
 
 The drive between two parallel ranges of mountains is one of the 
 most beautiful that can be imagined. Gardens on each side of the 
 road are kept by Chinese, and are irrigated by the mountain streams, 
 which render them fertile. They bloom with every kind of richly- 
 tinted flowers. The beautiful villas in the midst of these tropical gar- 
 dens, surrounded and sheltered by the shade of the plantain and cocoa- 
 nut trees, were pictures of rare beauty seldom seen; but once seen, 
 never to be forgotten. The tarra plantations were quite a feature of 
 this vale. The tarra is a vegetable somewhat like a yam. It is beaten 
 by the natives into a pulp called pai, which is the principal food of the 
 people. 
 
 *The grand attraction is Queen Emma's regal residence, or her 
 grounds. They are beautifully laid out and kept. In a colder clime 
 flowering shrubs make out to grow ; but here they tower into trees, 
 with every kind of beautiful blossoms on them. Litde rivers come 
 splashing and dashing down the mountain sides, then ripple through 
 the gardens, fertilizing them, and filling the tiny lakes. We called 
 to pay our respects to Queen Emma. She was not at home; but 
 we were very politely conducted through the grounds by the Chi- 
 nese gardeners. But with all their beauty and attractiveness, they 
 are not so attractive to travelers as the head of the valley. After a 
 gradual ascent for seven miles, we reach the point where the two 
 mountain ranges converge suddenly, and as suddenly diverge from each 
 other in fanciful shape to the sea. Having alighted from our carriage.
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 563 
 
 we walked through the narrow pass, and turning round a corner in the 
 path, we were thrown to the ground by the force of a mighty wind 
 from the ocean. The wind fills the funnel, and then concentrating its 
 force, it rushes through the narrow opening. Our sudden prostration 
 saved us from danger of tumbling over a precipice si.x hundred feet 
 high. We could not stand upright; we could not lie down straight; 
 nor could we sit still in any position. All we could do was to hold to 
 weeds and reeds with one hand, and with the other try to keep our 
 hats on our heads, and our ulsters over our feet, whilst we admired the 
 grand scene which opened to our view. From the foot of the perilous 
 perch on which we sat, to the sea stretched a plain, almost three miles 
 widfe, covered with a most beautiful vegetation of luxuriant growth; then 
 there are the little bays and capes, indenting and projecting along the line 
 of shore, and the little islets, surrounded by the green waters of the la- 
 goon. These again are surrounded by the coral belt, with its sparkling 
 fringe of foam, and beyond this lay the dark blue Pacific. At each 
 side of us, and high above us, stretching to the lagoon, and enclosing 
 the plain below, frowned the precipitous basaltic walls of this huge 
 funnel. We rolled ourselves away from our undignified position. 
 When safe out of the fierce current, we began a descent on a mule 
 track, which is cut on the face of the solid rock, down to the plain be- 
 low. In coming down we met fresh objects of interest — ferns, the 
 smallest and rarest, and fragrant weeds and grasses. The ginger plant, 
 which is indigenous to the island, bears gorgeous yellow flowers. The 
 Chinese prepare from the root the luxury called preserved ginger. 
 Wearied with our walk, we rested under a pine-apple tree, and talked 
 over the eventful history of the island. On the very spot where we 
 sat, a most tragic and bloody scene was enacted thirty years before. 
 We sat there in 1874. The father of the present king, Kalakaua, 
 came on the island with a number of savage warriors, and a desperate 
 battle between them and the islanders was fought in the Pali Valley. 
 Most of the defenders were killed, and the remnant driven through 
 the narrow pass, and over the dreadful precipice. For years their 
 bones lay bleaching in the sun. We thoroughly enjoyed our trip to 
 the Pali. 
 
 We were reminded, by the sun dipping toward the west, that we had 
 to return to our floating home. When once on board, I told Lord 
 Charles Harvey how much I had enjoyed my visit to the sublime Pali. 
 He said, if I could stay two or three months longer, I should be more 
 than repaid by seeing the active volcanoes. I wished that I could
 
 564 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 have stayed, as Lord Charles was about to visit the other island on a 
 missionary tour. He was a most agreeable old gentleman, and I en- 
 joyed his conversation much. When we came on board a large bou- 
 quet, culled from the choicest flowers in Queen Emma's garden, rich, 
 rare and beautiful, was presented to me by Mr. Foster. He said he 
 had driven out to the queen's garden to get the flowers especially for 
 me. I admired the flowers exceedingly, thanked the giver, and handed 
 them to the steward to adorn the dining table, that all might enjoy them. 
 
 Ere we left the shores of Oaha, King Kalakaua and his brother 
 came dashing down to the wharf in a splendid turnout, driving two 
 splendid horses with silver-mounted harness, and his driver in hand- 
 some livery. They came on board to say good-bye to us. To be a 
 king of the cannibal islands, I thought him a very fine specimen of 
 brown-skinned humanity. Perhaps I thought so because he took off" 
 his hat to me and bowed. He was tall and straight, had broad shoul- 
 ders, a deep chest, and hair and eyes black as night. His dress from 
 head to heels was white; his tan-colored gloves were the only colored 
 part of his dress; his hat and boots were white. He had a most kingly 
 air as he paced our deck. As soon as he went ashore, we sailed out, 
 and passengers and crew gave a hearty cheer for Honolulu, and the 
 British three cheers for the king, to the intense wonder of the natives. 
 We were all delighted with our shore visit. I had learned a new lesson 
 from the beautiful pages of an interesting book of nature, realizing how 
 bountiful is the great Creator, who with lavish hand had strewed with 
 beauty these isles of the sea. May the time soon come when true 
 Christianity shall reach and spread blessings over the other islands, 
 equally favored by nature with these. 
 
 We encountered a fierce gale, which lasted two days; the waters 
 heaved, and the vast sky stooped with its thunder; cloud on cloud 
 rolled heavily in the darkness. The roar of the ocean and the thunder 
 were very awful, and in the midst of the wild tumult, we entered the 
 Golden Gate. Our ship, though greatly tossed about, anchored in the 
 beautiful Bay of San Francisco undamaged. I was very sick, but I got 
 up and packed, ready to land. My trunks were examined by a lady 
 Custom House agent, and we pa, sed out of the ship into a carriage. 
 We drove to the Russ House, a very fine hotel, where we remained a 
 week. On the eastern side of the continent, when I left New York 
 sixteen years before, Mr. Buckbee was the last friend I parted with ; and 
 now, on the western side, he was the first friend I met. I spent a few 
 hours with him at his house in San Francisco.
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 565 
 
 Mrs. G and self went out shopping one da}', but found every- 
 thing much more expensive than in AustraHa. 
 
 A Brother Vincent called to see us, and to tell us where the church 
 met on Lord's day. I enjoyed the worship very much. We dined 
 with Brother Vincent's family. We crossed the beautiful bay, and 
 landed at Oakland, and spent a very pleasant day; returned to the city 
 for evening service. Brother Gore preached, and after the benedic- 
 tion, a preacher rose up, and asked the congregation to be seated a few 
 moments. He walked down the aisle, and then returned, followed by 
 a lady handsomely dressed, but without a bonnet, leaning on the arm 
 of a gentleman. This sight was novel, but what followed was still 
 more so. When the preacher reached the platform, he turned round 
 to the couple, and asked the gentleman: 
 
 *'Do you take this woman for your wife?" 
 
 A slight bow of the head was the response. 
 
 "Do you take this man for your husband?" 
 
 A slight bend of the body was the response. 
 
 "Then I pronounce you man and wife." 
 
 Could anything be more simple? Thus one of the most solemn re- 
 lationships of life was entered into, a beautiful rite performed, in about 
 one minute. They were made one; may they ever continue so. 
 
 The Lord's day in San Francisco is not kept as a holy day, but as a 
 holiday. The German revelers from day dawn were filling the street 
 cars at every point, with their fishing tackle and their huge lunch 
 baskets, and bands of music were parading the streets, all seeking 
 pleasure of the most godless kind. On Monday morning great cov- 
 ered vans may be seen at the hotel doors, and Chinamen put into the 
 vans great bundles of soiled linen, and drive off to the laundry, which 
 is entirely in the hands of the Chinese. Men do all the laundrying. 
 These washermen look almost like washerwomen, with their long cues 
 coiled round their heads, and their long, white outer garments look as 
 if they were preparing to go to bed. The whole effect is very odd. 
 
 We visited Woodward's Garden, and saw there much to interest us. 
 A great number of sea lions, camels and their babies, the marine 
 aquarium, a cow with five legs, the fifth growing from between her 
 shoulders. Our fellow-passengers were all at different hotels, and we 
 visited one another, The hotels are handsomely furnished; the tables 
 good; the waiters obliging, and rates reasonable. 
 
 On leaving our hotel, the obliging proprietor saved us much trouble 
 by providing a large lunch-basket for four persons on the long over-
 
 566 ■ THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 land journey. We packed up, paid our fare to Cincinnati, and re- 
 ceived our coupons to that place. On leaving San Francisco, we took 
 boat to Oakland, where a long line of trestle-work projects into 
 San Francisco Bay. At this terminus, we started on our long over- 
 land route. In the construction of this railroad most formidable ob- 
 stacles have been overcome. The Sierra Nevada Mountains, long 
 considered a barrier over which no railroad could pass, have been 
 pierced by immense tunnels, their deep gulches spanned by bridges, 
 and their frowning brows grooved for the railroad track. The 
 dreaded Rocky Mountains, with their precipitous and stern elevations, 
 were climbed, and their rugged peaks flung into torrents below. The 
 greatest altitude of this line, from ocean to ocean, is at Sherman's 
 Pass, Rocky Mountains, Wyoming Territory. It is a great notch in 
 the ridge, about twenty miles wide, and about 8,000 feet above the 
 sea-level. The Nevada Pass is about 7,000 feet above tide-water. At 
 an altitude of 4,574 feet above the sea-level, the first tunnel was passed 
 through. I was told we had to double Cape Horn in the Sierra Ne- 
 vada Mountains. I had doubled the Cape Horn of South America, 
 famous for its storms ; now our cars ran round a corner, on a road cut 
 in the face of an exceedingly high mountain, with the American 
 River rushing and roaring 2,500 feet below our train. As we slowly 
 wound our way round this point, I looked down into the chasm below. 
 The river looked like a silver thread. I looked up to the snow-capped 
 mountain above, but its summit was beyond my view. The erosive 
 power of this river must be very great, as the steep walls and depth of 
 the chasm show. We passed through forty miles of snow-sheds, 
 which were built to protect the road from snow-drifts. The snow 
 lay deep along the road in some places, though it was June. We 
 had now reached the roof of the United States. It stands from 
 5,000 to 8,000 feet above the sea-level. This great plateau forms a 
 great inland basin between the Nevada Mountains on the west, and 
 the Rocky Mountains on the east, and it is surrounded by jagged 
 mountain peaks and broken ridges, which form the rim of the basin. 
 The rivers of Utah and Nevada flow into the lakes of this basin- 
 Great Salt Lake and others are all salt. No rain falls in this region. 
 The country is a desert, bald, bleak and dreary, without a tree or 
 shrub to intercept the driving snow as the fierce gale sweeps it across 
 the plain. We passed the northern end of the great Salt Lake. Pass- 
 ing over the Alkali Desert, the dust was imperceptible while suspended 
 in air, but when it settled on our little table we could very often write
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 567 
 
 our names on it. The alkali dust penetrated all the exposed pores of 
 my skin, and caused me much discomfort for weeks. 
 
 In the night, when busy tongues were still and weary eyes were 
 closed in slumber, I have lain in bed listening to the deep-toned voice 
 of the engine-bell as it peeled forth on the midnight air peal after 
 peal, peal after peal, until the circle of sound seemed to reach the 
 horizon. I have never heard anything to compare with it. 
 
 At Cheyenne City we left the cars for a short time to buy moss 
 agates that boys picked up on the pass and sold to travelers at their 
 own price. When I was returning to the cars, I saw an oblong box 
 lying across the platform of a baggage-car. I read the printed 
 letters on the end of the box and found the box contained a male 
 corpse. A feeling of awe crept over me. When we were on the 
 move again, I noticed a lady, two young children, and three gentle- 
 me;i that I had not seen before. One of the gentlemen was playing 
 with the elder little girl, about two years old, at a window, while the 
 mother dressed the baby of a few months old. When the infant was 
 dressed, one of the younger gentlemen took it, and though it was 
 crying he soon quieted it, and they were all soon at play. It puzzled 
 me to know which was the father. The lady spoke to me about some- 
 thing, and we had quite a chat about the sweet, pretty children. I 
 asked her which of the gentlemen was her husband; for just then 
 they were all having a fine time. She said neither was her husband; 
 they were perfect strangers to her; she had never seen them till they 
 met on the cars. I was a little surprised at this, and I asked if her 
 husband was not with her on the cars. 
 
 "Oh yes, he is with me, but he is on one of the other cars" (I 
 thought he was an officer on the train) ; '-but," she continued, "he is 
 in a box, and I am taking him home," 
 
 "Dead!" I exclaimed. '' 
 
 "Yes; he died at Santa Barbara, and I am going to New England. 
 These gendemen are very kind to me." 
 
 And so they were. These three were young English officers, going 
 home via America. I heard one of them say he would see her all the 
 way to her home, and then he would join his companions at New York. 
 Oh, how I felt for this poor young widow, with her two babies and 
 her dead husljand. But God is the husband of the widow and a 
 father to the fatherless. They were in his hands. 
 
 We saw on the side of a mountain in the Yellowstone region, what 
 was called the Devil's Slide. The vertical wall was 1,500 feet long,
 
 568 THE STORY OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 125 feet wide, and 30 feet high. On the north of our hne we could see 
 the geysers; they were numerous. The giant Crater Geyser, the Fan 
 Geyser, the Grotto Geyser. Geysers are hot springs that at certain 
 intervals send up jets of hot water with great violence. They occur 
 only in volcanic regions. The name is derived from the Icelandic 
 word gji'sa, which means to rush forth with great violence. 
 
 The park reserved by government is the largest in the world, being 
 sixty-five miles long and fifty-five wide ; area in square miles, 3,575. 
 These vast public grounds are under a commissioner appointed by the 
 President of the United States. We crossed the Missouri River at 
 Omaha, in Nebraska, on a magnificent iron bridge. We crossed slowly 
 and seemed suspended in mid-air. 
 
 At a station where we stopped an Indian came on the platform and 
 stood by our window. He Avas of medium height, with an eagle-eye. 
 His mien was majestic. I drew Mr. Gore's attention, and said to 
 him, that man is a chief. 
 
 "Pshaw," said Mr. G , "he is only a beggar." 
 
 "That man is no beggar," said I. 
 
 Just then the Indian opened his cloak, which covered him from 
 neck to heel, and concealed the full dress of a warrior. He was 
 armed. He handed me a paper. Mr. G laughed, and said : 
 
 "I told you he was a beggar." 
 
 I read the parchment; it was a treaty between the United States 
 Government and this most powerful and friendly chief, who had bound 
 himself to protect the passengers who passed his way. I handed to 
 
 Mr. G what he thought was the Indian's begging paper. The 
 
 chief handed me another paper from an army general, advising all 
 who met this powerful chief to treat him civilly, as he had proved a 
 great friend to the white man, and it behooved all to retain his friend- 
 ship. I returned the documents with a smile and a bow, and a "thank 
 you," for allowing me to read. He neither smiled, spoke, nor moved 
 from the position he had first taken on the platform till we left. 
 Meantime, three of his braves appeared in full dress, brandishing their 
 tomahawks and enjoying themselves. These were fine-looking men. 
 Other Indians came near on horseback, the ugliest, fiercest red men I 
 ever saw. Woe betide those that came under their scalping-knives! . 
 I was gratified; I had seen Indians in their native state. 
 
 The prairie dog is a curious little animal, -and lives in villages. He 
 has for his companions snakes and owls. We passed a village, or 
 rather a city, of theirs; for it was of great size. Many acres of a
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 569 
 
 plain were honey-combed with their burrows. Around their holes 
 they have a little rim of earth taken from them. They have one 
 of their number always on the watch, and as soon as he sees any 
 one he gives a yelping cry like a dog, and dives down into his hole. 
 Instantly the villagers are all out of sight. But the little creatures are 
 full of curiosity, so they all come back again to the mouths of their 
 burrows, and there they sit, like squirrels, with their bright eyes look- 
 ing everywhere. 
 
 We crossed the Mississippi River on an iron bridge between Rock 
 Island and Davenport. It was a pleasant sight to see green grass and 
 trees growing after the arid wilds we had crossed. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gore remained at Chicago; Mr. Collis came on to Lexington. In 
 passing through Indiana a conductor came on board the cars, and as 
 usual we gave him our coupons to tear off one and return the rest to 
 us. He put them all in his pocket, after scrutinizing them very close- 
 ly, and walked away. Our coupons all being kept, we thought we 
 were near our journey's end; but not so. At another station an- 
 other conductor came on board, and demanded our tickets. We told 
 him we had given them to the other conductor, and explained to him 
 how that other conductor had acted — that we had come from Califor- 
 nia, and had coupons to Cincinnati. This the bullying conductor 
 affected not to believe, and he was most rude and insulting, demand- 
 ing our tickets or our fare. I asked him to telegraph back to the last 
 conductor and he would get them. The abusive language this fellow 
 used was past belief Mr. Collis was indignant, and turned to me 
 and said : 
 
 "Is this a specimen of your American gentlemen? In Australia 
 they would not dare to treat strangers in this way." 
 
 I had been lauding all the American men as gentlemen, and the 
 women as ladies ; but I did not claim this semi-barbarian as a gentle- 
 man. When the baggage agent came to change our checks the wily 
 conductor asked to see them. We gladly put them into his hand, and, 
 like his predecessor, he looked at them, put them in his pocket, and 
 said: 
 
 "Now I have you. You shall not have your baggage till you pay 
 your fare." 
 
 I could not understand the mean trickery of these railway officials. 
 In the cars we had no redress, so we wore dumb with astonishment. 
 We reached Cincinnati at night, and saw our trunks tumbled out of 
 the car. My trunk lock was broken, and the lid open, and some
 
 570 THE STORV OF AN EARNEST LIFE. 
 
 finery hanging out. That was an extra trunk, and I paid eleven dol- 
 lars for its safe transit. I lost more out of it than its carriage cost. 
 I dared not go near my trunk to secure my property ; but I went to 
 the office of a railway agent and told him our dilemma, and asked 
 what we ouglit to do ; we were strangers, and did not know. His 
 advice was to pay our fare from the place our coupons were tiken, 
 regain our baggage, and write to headquarters about the conduct of 
 
 the conductors. We did as advised. Mr. C attended to the 
 
 writing, and our money was returned. I was advised to prosecute, 
 but nothing could compensate for the insults heaped on us, so I let the 
 matter pass. 
 
 We took train for Lexington, and arrived late in the night. I stayed 
 
 all night, left Mr. C next, day at Lexington, and he there made 
 
 arrangements to enter the university to prepare for the ministry. I 
 went on to Midway, where I arrived just eight days from San Fran- 
 cisco. Weary and travel-worn, I was soon among friends, who were 
 glad to see me, as I surely was to see them. I rested here to have 
 my trunks repaired, and here I saw one of the old ladies I had desired 
 to see ere she passed away. She has since gone to the spirit land. It 
 was Mrs. Smith. A friend drove me thirty-six miles one day to Cen- 
 terville to see another one, Mrs. Gano and her family. I then took 
 train and proceeded to Bethany, to see the third old lady and her fam- 
 ily, Mrs. Campbell, widow of the greatest and best man I ever knew. 
 I visited the home of the illustrious dead at Bethany, West Virginia, 
 where Mr. Campbell was first married, where all his children were 
 born, and where his glorified spirit passed from time and his much- 
 loved earthly home, to eternity and the mansions of the redeemed. 
 I then wended my way to the quiet resting-place of those I loved and 
 revered. As a tribute to their memory, I wove three garlands and 
 hung the fresh flowery wreaths on the monuments of my wee pet lamb, 
 the beautiful and sainted Clarinda, and her illustrious father, whom 
 every act of her pure life tended to honor. They rest in peace. I had 
 seen Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Gano and Mrs. Campbell, and their families ; 
 I was gratified. Now my second voyage round the world was at an end. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 47 9 
 
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