Robert Carter: His Life and Work. 1807-1889/Chapter 2
CHAPTER II.
“In March, 1831, I engaged my passage in the ship ‘Francis,’ that was to sail from Greenock on the 4th of April. I left Edinburgh, and went to bid adieu to my native village. The voyage was a very different thing then from what it is now. The Atlantic seemed wider; the new land less known.
“One good woman took me aside, and kindly urged me to take a wife with me to America. ‘Ye’ll get naething there but a Yankee, and they’re a’black.’ The separation from home and friends was most trying.
“At six o’clock in the morning of my departure, about thirty acquaintances and friends assembled in my home, and many of them were deeply affected. As I arose to go, my mother, who had embraced me most tenderly, fainted and fell on the sofa. My friends said, ‘You had better go now before she returns to consciousness.’ My father and many friends accompanied me. They dropped off two by two, till, after walking ten miles, my father and a very dear friend alone were left. We parted in silence. I gazed after them till they reached the top of a little hill, and gradually disappeared from view. I then sat down by the silvery Tweed and gave full vent to my feelings. I was alone with God. In a more fervent prayer than perhaps I had ever offered before, I commended myself and my father’s family to His keeping, washed my face in the Tweed, wiped my face with my handkerchief, and went on my way. In the afternoon I reached Peebles, where I met with a warm reception from my dear friends, and the following day went to Edinburgh, and from there to Greenock. There was no one on board the ‘Francis’ whom I knew, save one, a gardener, Richard Davidson, eight years older than I, who had attended a prayer-meeting with me in my native village, and was very dear to me. We left Greenock on Monday, the 4th of April; my friend had his father and mother and two sisters with him. There was an excellent family of five, the Ainslees, nearly related to him, who formed a circle of friends that showed me great kindness.
“On the first Sabbath morning, my friend said to me, ‘There are many pious people on board, but there is no clergyman. We ought to have a service, and you must take the lead.’ I remonstrated, but there was no one else, and he insisted on my opening the meeting with prayer, after singing a psalm. In the prayer I felt that we were alone with God. All around me seemed to have the same feeling, and there was a Bochim. God was there of a truth; we then read a lecture on the Acts by Dr. John Dick, of Glasgow, and my friend closed with prayer and singing. We were six weeks on the voyage, and each Sabbath had a similar service. I had reason to believe that some were born again on board.
“Captain Peck, who was the principal owner of the ship, took me aside before we landed, and said: ‘This is one of the most pleasant voyages I ever made, and I attribute it in great part to your influence. If I can do you any service, I will be glad to do it.’ I held him to his word. Before a year had passed, I went to him and told him I wanted to bring out my father and family, twelve in all, and I would pay him when they landed. ‘I will gladly do it for you, he said, ‘though I have always insisted on payment in advance.’ I saved enough the first year to pay for all, and the same week, one year later, they were all with me in New York.”
Mr. Carter never lost sight of his fellow passengers of the “Francis.” Many of them were his lifelong friends. One of them was a little boy of five or six years, of whom he made quite a pet, and who used to walk the deck with him, holding his hand. This little George Ainslee grew up into a noble, self-sacrificing man, a devoted missionary to the Indians, and, when his mission was broken up by the war, becoming an equally devoted minister of the Presbyterian Home Mission Board.
Mr. Carter used often to relate an amusing incident of the voyage. To beguile the monotony of sea life, the young men formed a debating society, and were one day assembled near the bulwarks, when suddenly there came a cry from the other side of the ship, “Richard! Richard!” and, looking across, they saw an old woman clinging to a rope that hung from the rigging. “Something is the matter with your mother, Richard.” The young man crossed to inquire into the difficulty. “What’s the matter, mother?” “O, they’re a’ gaan to the one side of the ship, and it is going to coup [upset], and I’m just haudin’ doon wi’ a’ my micht.” It was irresistibly comic, the idea of the frail little woman, weighing perhaps ninety pounds, holding down the great ship, and the laughter that ensued broke up the debating society for that day.
Many of that little company of Scottish emigrants sought homes near together in Saratoga County, New York, where they formed a little colony, following their old customs, and had a flourishing church where their beloved Scotch version of the Psalms was sung. Thither Mr. Carter took his father’s family in the following year, when they came to America. The older people always clung lovingly to the memories of their home beyond the water, and always maintained that there was nothing in America that was quite equal to what they had in Scotland, “unless it were the moon.”
The sole male survivor of Mr. Carter’s fellow voyagers on the “Francis” is Mr. Richard Davidson, who settled in Troy, New York, and opened a classical school there. They had occasional affectionate intercourse in after life, never losing sight of each other. In the last year of Mr. Carter’s life this old friend visited him. Mr. Davidson was at the advanced age of eighty-nine, but, though bowed under the weight of years, his mental powers were clear and vigorous. He writes:—
“Mr. Carter was naturally very cheerful and happy, and therefore added much to our enjoyment during the long voyage. …We were both Commissioners to the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church meeting in Baltimore, in 1872. It is customary at these gatherings to designate members of the Assembly to conduct religious services in different parts of the city on the Sabbath. When I met Mr. Carter on Saturday evening he with a grave countenance said, ‘What do you think they are going to do with me? They are going to send me to the penitentiary.’ On meeting him on Monday morning I remarked, ‘They did not keep you in confinement long.’ ‘No, I got out on account of good behavior.’ ”
To resume Mr. Carter's narrative:—
“When I reached New York, a city at that time [May 16, 1831] of two hundred thousand inhabitants, I did not know a person in it. There was a clergyman whose boys I had taught in Peebles, who had come to New York the preceding year. I had letters for him addressed to the care of a merchant at 407 Broadway. I went to that place, and found the owner at home. He told me that the minister for whom I inquired had gone to Washington County, N. Y., but that he would forward the letters to him. He asked me if I had just landed. I said I had. He then asked me what I meant to do here. I told him I was a teacher. He shook his head: ‘Had you been a mason, or a carpenter, or a blacksmith, I could have got you employment at twelve shillings a day; but there is no such encouragement for a schoolmaster.’ I showed him some of my letters of introduction, and asked where I could find the parties addressed. He took up the letter for Dr. Griscom, and said, ‘My son David is a pupil there, I will introduce you to the Doctor.’ The High School was in Crosby Street near Grand Street. We went there and saw the Doctor. He was engaged with his class, but he took the letter, and after reading it he took me very affectionately by the hand and said, ‘I welcome thee to our country; we greatly need such as thee. Come to-night at six o’clock, and take a cup of tea with me, and I will introduce thee to some of my friends.’ As we came down stairs, my friend said to me, ‘Perhaps you are going to do here after all: the Doctor has great influence.’ I made answer, ‘I’ve got to do.’
“I had never met a member of the Society of Friends before, but I was impressed with the idea that I must be very punctual and exact in my dealings with them, so six o’clock found me walking up and down before the door, and just as the clock struck the hour my hand was on the door bell. The good Doctor had a few friends at table beside his own family, and he introduced me very affectionately, saying, ‘This is friend Robert Carter from Edinburgh. He brings letters from Professor Pillans. We gladly welcome him.’ Never can I forget the kindness shown me then and always by this noble and generous man.
“I had been taught in Scotland that it was good table manners to refuse the delicacies offered, and wait to be pressed before accepting; but I found that this system did not obtain here, and that a dainty once refused was not offered again, so that, if I wanted my supper, I must eat what was set before me. This struck me as being much more sensible than our Scottish plan. The conversation at table was of a high order, simple, cultured, Christian. I could not have had a finer specimen of an American home than this first one I entered. The conversation turned upon the literary institutions of Scotland, her eminent men, and the general diffusion of education among the masses of the people. On these subjects I was quite at home, and the circle around us was evidently interested in it. I have often since reflected, how kind and considerate he was to turn our attention to subjects with which he knew me to be familiar. After a delightful evening, I returned to my lodgings, and poured out my heart in gratitude to the Father of mercies, who had disposed strangers to take me so kindly by the hand.
“A day or two later Dr. Griscom introduced me to the Hon. Gulian C. Verplanck, and other influential friends. Mr. Verplanck examined me in Greek and Latin, and the Doctor and he gave me a letter to Professor Anthon of Columbia College, asking him to examine me and report to them. When I delivered this letter, the Professor asked me to meet him at four o'clock at his house in the college building. I did so. He gave me one book and took another, and asked me to read and translate. After reading portions from the Latin authors, he did the same with the Greek, and questioned me on various subjects. He was greatly pleased because I used the Continental method of pronunciation taught in Edinburgh, but not yet introduced into this country. He then said, ‘There is a highly respectable academy at Jamaica in which there is a vacancy. I will recommend you as classical instructor if you would like to go there.’
“This offer chilled my heart. I knew of no other Jamaica save the island in the West Indies. Several young men from my native village had gone there and had grown rich, but had become immoral and profligate. One of them returned home for a visit, patted me on the head, and said to my father, ‘If you will give me this boy, I will make a man of him.’ My dear father replied, ‘I would sooner lay him in the kirkyard than send him to Jamaica. I value the favor of God more than all this world can give me.’
“I need not say that I declined the offer, and said I would rather take a humbler position in New York. He told me he thought that I was right; that New York was the best place for a young man. He then said, ‘Mr. Cairnes, a countryman of yours, who has been one of our teachers, has had a hemorrhage and will never teach again; I will give you his class in the Grammar School of Columbia College. Come to-morrow at nine, and begin your work.’ I then asked if he would give me a letter to the good friends who had sent me to him. He did so, sealed it up, and gave it to me![1]
“I had been teaching a few days at the Grammar School when another professor came into my room and told me he wished to introduce me to a countryman of mine, who had two sons in the school. He took me into an adjoining room, and the gentleman received me very kindly, and invited me to tea. After tea, he proposed to give me a home at his own house on condition that I would aid his boys in preparing their lessons in the evenings. This suited my purpose, and aided me in bringing out my father’s family. A few days later I was invited by Mr. Verplanck and Mr. Murray to meet them at four o’clock P. M. They told me that the Trustees of the High School had unanimously elected me to become Classical Instructor in that institution. I consulted Professor Anthon, and he said it was a better position than he could give me, and advised me to accept it. After this I recommended Messrs. Chisholm, Penman, Henderson, and Thomson to the Grammar School of Columbia College, and they found employment there. For years the school was supplied with young Scotchmen as teachers.
“The High School was then on the wane, and it was not long till it was discontinued. Mr. R. Smith, then superintendent of the lower department, formed a partnership with me, and we opened a school on the corner of Broadway and Grand Street. All the pupils that were with me in the High School save one came there. I had some excellent boys, who afterwards took high positions in the world. One, the Hon. Schuyler Colfax, became Vice-President of the United States; another, a general in the army; a third, a leading financier of New York; a fourth, a prominent clergyman in this city: and others became useful and honored men.”
Mr. Carter was through life remarkable for his social qualities; he was interested in others, and expected them to be interested in him, and his expectation was almost invariably realized. The friendly hand that he so frankly extended to others received a cordial grasp in return. “He that hath friends, must show himself friendly.” Dr. Guthrie used to say that he had noticed that everybody, men, women, and children, liked to be spoken to, and wherever he went he acted on this principle, and was always kindly received. Mr. Carter was of the same mind. The people he met on his first day in New York, like the passengers on the good ship “Francis,” were his friends for life, and their children after them. The relationship between him and Dr. Griscom was like that between father and son. Most tender and true was his love to the man whom he esteemed as his benefactor. He had a letter of introduction from Edinburgh for the Rev. Dr. Stark, and the first building he entered in New York was a store, where he stopped to inquire for his address. The proprietor, Mr. Robert Marshall, exchanged glances with his young wife, to whom he had been married the week before, and said, “He is our pastor,” and offered to go with him to Dr. Stark’s house. When Mr. Carter lay on his death-bed, fifty-eight years later, this same friend called to see him, and as Mr. Carter took his hand in parting, he said to him with emotion, “This is the same hand I clasped on my first day in America,” and the two friends shed tears of affection together. A few months later Mr. Marshall followed Mr. Carter to the eternal city. Can we not imagine the renewed hand-clasping in the land where partings are no more?
Dr. Stark also was a warm friend as long as he lived, When Mr. Carter entered into business three years later, he said to him, “I know your capital is small. If at any time a few hundreds would be a help to you, I will gladly lend them without interest.” Mr. Carter never required this aid, but felt himself greatly indebted to Dr. Stark for advice, for kindly words of encouragement to himself and indorsement to others.
Often in after life Mr. Carter spoke of the solitary feeling that came over him as he laid his head upon his pillow on his first night in the New World. He remembered that he was alone in this great city; that if he should die that night, there would be none to mourn him; that those who loved him would not know of his death till many weeks should pass away. Then the thought of the loving Father, who was as near him in New York as to his dear ones three thousand miles away, whose watchful eye never slept, and whose tender care was ever about him, comforted his drooping heart. It was the same thought, beautifully expressed by the Quaker poet, born the same year as himself,—
“I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.”
And so he laid him down and slept, and awaked, for the Lord sustained him.
On the morning of his first Sabbath in America, he inquired at his boarding-house where he could find a Scotch church. “You mean the Scotch Church? It is in Cedar Street, and Dr. McElroy is its pastor.” He went there, and from that day till the close of his life it was his church home, and became dear to him as the apple of his eye. Dr. McElroy was then at the zenith of his reputation, a most earnest and eloquent preacher, full of zeal and fire. He preached entirely without notes, not even writing his sermons, but preparing them with extreme care, and delivering them verbatim et literatim. Sometimes in delivery he would substitute a synonymous word for the one he had intended, but was never satisfied till he had gone back and used the very word he had chosen in preparation. He was a most tender-hearted friend, and greatly beloved in his congregation.
A few Sundays later, Mr. Carter entered the Scotch Church Sunday school, and was soon one of the most active teachers, and leader of the teachers’ meeting. In 1837 he was made Superintendent, a position he filled for more than thirty years. In 1847 he was made an elder in the church.
It was in this Sunday school that Mr. Carter first met her who was destined to be for more than fifty years his helper, tried and true, in the battle of life. None but himself and his children could know what a power was in that gentle, quiet life that was lived beside his, nor how strong was the influence exercised over him by his wife. The heart of her husband could safely trust in her.
Miss Jane Thomson was the eldest daughter of Mr. Samuel Thomson, an old and highly respected citizen of New York, an active and honored elder of the Scotch Church. Mr. Thomson was a native of Maryland, whence he removed to New York in 1804. He was of Scotch Irish descent, his ancestors coming from the North of Ireland to America in 1754. His father, Hugh Thomson, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather were buried in the Piney Creek Presbyterian Church graveyard, Taneytown, Md. He married, in 1807, Ann, daughter of Archibald Strean, who had come from Belfast, Ireland, in 1798. Of this noble and excellent couple it may be said, “None knew them but to love them; none named them but to praise.” The family were thoroughly identified with the Scotch Church. As Mr. Thomson’s children married and settled in life, the connection was continued, and at one time thirteen pews in that church were occupied by his descendants. Miss Thomson’s parents and grandfather being members of that church, she was from infancy a baptized member, entered into full communion there, as did her children after her, and in all her seventy-six years she never had any other church home. She would not have hesitated to say of it, “If I forget thee, let my right hand forget its cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.” Those who knew Miss Thomson in her youth loved to speak of her great beauty, and her sweet and winning ways. Those who only knew her when her benevolent face was framed by soft silvery curls can hardly believe that the beauty of youth exceeded that of age. And surely the youthful character, however lovely, could not have rivalled the charm that was brought down to a mellow old age by a life of self-forgetful love for others.
Mr. Carter’s love for his young bride was strong and ardent, and it never waned. Strangers who saw his active busy life, and heard his ready, outspoken utterance, may have thought that the quiet, retiring woman at his side was not his equal in force of character; but he never thought so, nor did those who knew them best. She had a mind of her own, though it was very gently expressed. Though ever ready to yield in trifles, where principle was involved she was firm as a rock. To her was fulfilled the promise, “The meek will He guide in judgment.” Mr. Carter was ever ready to acknowledge his indebtedness to her wisdom. All their decisions were made together, and with the most entire unanimity.
They were married March 18, 1834. We may learn how much things have changed since those days from the fact that the quiet little wedding had to take place at six o'clock in the morning, in order that the bridal pair might reach Philadelphia on their wedding trip before night.
We may imagine that the future prospects of the young couple had caused the bride’s parents no little anxiety. Teaching is never a very lucrative business; and though the school had prospered wonderfully, Mr. Carter’s strong sense of duty to his father’s family, and his great liberality to them, had prevented his saving much. He was rich only in faith, hope, energy, and ability. Mr. Thomson was a man of considerable means, but he had ten children, and could not be expected to do much for his daughter in his lifetime. Mrs. Thomson was a woman of excellent judgment and great fertility of resource, and she suggested to her daughter, that, while Mr. Carter could never expect to make a fortune at teaching, he was a man of good business capacity, and that he knew and loved books so well that he ought to make a good bookseller. This was a very short time before the marriage. The idea at once took root, and the very next morning before school Mr. Carter was looking about through the business portions of the city for a store suitable for his new venture. He found one on the corner of Canal and Laurens Streets, which he took for the 1st of April. He had saved just six hundred dollars, a small sum with which to launch out simultaneously in business and matrimony. He heard of an insolvent bookseller on Cortlandt Street, who had advertised for sale his stock in trade, and he went to him and offered his six hundred dollars, which was accepted, and he was ready to start in business as soon as he returned from his wedding trip.
Mr. Thomson gave his daughter a house and furniture, and they set up their simple housekeeping. It took great faith and courage in the young bride, who had been used to comfort and luxury, to start in life with such indefinite prospects; but she felt her husband to be no ordinary man, and her confidence in him was not misplaced. The young people were resolved that nothing should ever tempt them to run in debt in the smallest degree, and they resolved also, that if possible they should lay by something every year; and this they always succeeded in doing, though it required the most rigid economy, especially as they always extended a very liberal helping hand to the father’s household in Saratoga County. Mr. Carter had one of the younger brothers to help him in the business, and at different times he had four of his brothers with him.
The very first day his store was opened, a woman came in, and asked for a Bible. He showed her his stock, and she chose out a handsome copy, and asked its price. He was not yet familiar with his price list, and answered at random, “Seventy-five cents.” “That is wonderfully cheap,” said she, and at once paid for it. After she had gone, Mr. Carter looked up the list, and found that he had lost considerably on his bargain, but it always pleased him to remember that the Bible was the first book he ever sold. His first year of business yielded him a much larger return than his school had done, and each succeeding year proved more favorable than the last.
His sturdy independence and frugal habits were important factors in his success. One day when his assistant was very busy in the store, Mr. Carter, as he was going home to dinner, picked up a large package of books, intending to deliver them to a customer on his way. As he was passing through the streets, he met a young bookseller who had started in business about the same time as himself, and the young man remarked sneeringly, “Ah! I see you are your own porter.” “Yes,” said Mr. Carter, “I am not ashamed to do any necessary work.”
Mr. Carter soon removed into a somewhat larger store, at the corner of Canal and Mercer Streets, and there began to publish books. The following account of these early business days was found among his papers:—
“In 1836 Mr. James Lenox sent for me and gave me a book which he valued very much and advised me to publish. I did so, and he took one hundred copies, and distributed them mainly among the students of Princeton Seminary. This book was Symington on the Atonement. I took a copy of it to some of the leading booksellers in New York, and they told me I had mistaken my calling,—that this was too dry a book for Americans, though it might have suited the Covenanters of Scotland two hundred years ago, Notwithstanding this, the first edition went off, and fifteen hundred more were printed and sold. It was then stereotyped, and more than six thousand have been circulated.[2]
“There was one element in my work as a business man which was of great importance to me. I had started with a small capital of six hundred dollars, and I had resolved to owe no man anything save very temporarily. This was of immense value to me. When a panic tried the strength of many around me, I had nothing to trouble me, and generally the panic gave me strength. I was ready to act as soon as it had passed, and felt more hopeful than before.”
He had always followed the plan of giving one tenth of his income to the Lord’s treasury ; but of this period he writes:—
“When I reached that point where I had a surplus above what was required for my business purposes, I looked around to see what use I could make of it. I resolved to consecrate to the Master’s work as much as I expended on my family. This had a double blessing. It caused economy at home, and enabled me to use cheerfully for Christian work what I had thus set apart. A dear friend, who had broken up housekeeping on account of the death of her husband, offered me her carriage and pair of fine horses on condition that I would use them in my family, I told her I could not do that, as it might prove a snare for my children, whom I was desirous to educate with simple tastes and for useful ends, But I advised her to sell them, and use the money in advancing the kingdom of Christ. I have reason to believe that she appropriated every dollar she thus received for sacred purposes.
“By this time I had learned a precious lesson, that the blessing of the Lord alone maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow. Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it. I was taught to look up every day and every hour for that blessing. And O how sweet it is to feel and to say, ‘In Thee alone I put my trust!’
“From the commencement of my work as a publisher, I devoted my spare hours to reading books and manuscripts with a view to publication. I read thousands of volumes, and rejected perhaps five for one that I adopted. I cannot say that this was always wisely done, but it was a safe measure. When I had issued two hundred books, I examined carefully what they cost and what they brought, and found that there were only five on which I had sunk money, and the aggregate of loss was not more than two hundred dollars. There were at the same time not more than twenty on which much profit was made. Many just returned the investment, and little more. It required the strictest economy to make business prosper. But there was one great advantage. I gave no notes, and owed nothing, so that my mind was kept clear from anxiety. It was a delightful work. During the day I watched the current that was moving before me, and conversed with some of the best men and most ardent lovers of the lost whom Christ died to save. In my early years I owed much to Mrs. J. F. Sheafe, a sister of Mr. Lenox. She was fond of reading, had a clear head and a loving heart. She would lay aside all other work, and read any new book that I sent to her, and give me a distinct statement of her impressions of its value. There was scarcely any volume that she indorsed which failed to find a market. But as the years passed on and business increased, I thought I could not tax her any more. But she often said to me, ‘It was you who gave me up, not I you,’ ”
- ↑ Mr. Carter did not know the contents of this letter for many years, but it finally came into his possession at the death of Mr. Verplanck. It was couched in the most complimentary terms as to his scholarship and abilities.
- ↑ It may be interesting to add here, that in the last year of his life Mr. Carter, while visiting the Lenox Library with his grandchildren, inquired if there was a copy of Symington on the Atonement there. The book was found, and on the fly leaf was the inscription with which he had presented it to Mr. Lenox. It was a great gratification to him to see this book, which he regarded as a sort of corner stone to all his publications, preserved in this permanent manner in his old friend’s library. Symington on the Atonement continued on his catalogue to the end of his life.