of stinging personal abuse, every line bristling with nastiness, or a nipping paragraph, every word of which was intended to blister the victim of the writer's dislike. He never minced his words, for he was the most outspoken writer that ever dipped into an inkstand. There were no two ways about him, and he was consequently never out of trouble, for he made more public enemies than any man in Port Phillip. Yet he was not without friends, and good ones too; not the plausible profferers of mere lip-service, but men who unbuttoned their pockets, and helped him therefrom over and over again, until they found it was little use doing so. Financial tribulation of some kind or other rarely ever left him, and public subscriptions were made three or four times to give him fresh starts in the world of newspaper speculation.
There is now (1885) living at St. Kilda an esteemed Scottish gentleman who knew much of Kerr's pecuniary difficulties, and often gave him a helping hand. In the course of my hunting up materials for the Chronicles, I addressed a communication to the gentleman in question relative to some of Mr. Kerr's undertakings, and from the kind and courteous reply received I made the following extract:— "I regret my inability to supply you with the exact information you require relative to the early history of poor Kerr's papers, although I had something to do with the starting of most of them, as the hat was always carried round by someone on these occasions, so regularly indeed that his staunch friend, Peter Young, of 'The Sugar Loaf,' once said to him in my hearing, 'You're just like a d————d bad Geneva watch. You cost mair siller to keep you going than you's a' worth.' Unlike the general run of his countrymen, Kerr was thoughtless and thriftless far beyond his means, which were at times not to be despised. The moment a pound entered his purse (I doubt if he kept one), it did not rest long there, for it was either spent or given away, he being both generous and charitable, when he had money. In temperament also he was a remarkable contradiction, or rather an amalgamation of the lion and the sheep. In his newspaper, at the City Council, a public meeting, or other demonstration, when on his mettle, no rejoinder, contradiction, or interruption could silence him. 'I'll not be put down,' was his shibboleth; and the only times he was ever known to be 'put down' was when some enraged object of his libellings would meet him at a street corner and knock him down. Yet, as an employer, or in private life, or a select boon companion, he was harmless and inoffensive, obliging, pleasant, and good-natured. He was well posted in colonial politics, and the minor branches of colonial law; but beyond these, his general information could not be reckoned of much account."
Thomas Hamilton Osborne was a Presbyterian minister, who abandoned the cassock for the editor's desk. He was a tall, sallow-faced man, with jaws of what may be styled the lanthorn order, and with a North of Ireland drawl or brogue, diluted in the Scottish burr, far from unpleasant to listen to. He was as intensely Irish as if born on one of the hills of Tipperary, and I never heard a better hand at a convivial Irish speech. Yet, strange to relate, his pulpit utterances were rather given to boredom, and his leading articles were often so very heavy that when printed in "leaded" type, they were such tiresome reading as to obtain for him the nickname of "prosy Osborne." He was a remarkable figure when flitting through the streets—his slightly stooped person garbed in a white bell-topper, green or black swallow-tail coat, and drab trousers. He remained for some years in Melbourne in connection with the Herald and Times, married a Geelong lass, departed westward, and established the Belfast Gazette. In after years he represented the united constituency, Belfast and Warrnambool, for a short time in the first Legislative Council, and died soon after.
The feeling of the several editors towards each other was absurdly personal and acrimonious, and carried to a ridiculous extent into public and private life. Kerr and Stephen both held high positions in the Fraternity of Freemasons, and some of their bitterest battles were fought in the Lodge-room. They were for a while on terms of such intimacy that Stephen was a welcome visitor at Kerr's house, but outside or inside differences terminated their friendly intercourse, and they remained ever afterwards at war. Kerr in his paper openly denounced Stephen with the grossest immorality, and Stephen retorted in unmeasured abuse, either through another paper, or at some election meeting, or other public place; or he would carry his grievance into the mystic circle
