Robert Carter: His Life and Work. 1807-1889/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII.
When Mr. Carter returned to America after his most enjoyable European trip, he was fifty-five years of age, entering upon what are generally regarded as declining years, but he was destined to “bring forth fruit in old age.” His last days were also his best. His two sons in the ministry soon married and settled in their respective parishes; a few years later his only daughter married a clergyman; his brother-in-law, Rev. Dr. Mann, was settled in Princeton; and Mr. Carter would go from one country parish to another, a most welcome visitor, taking part in any meetings or conventions that were going on at the time, always present at and adding greatly to the interest of Sunday school and prayer meeting. His friends often referred to these visits as those of a bishop to his diocese. His advice was constantly sought by the young ministers, and was always judicious and kindly. Wherever he went, he spread sunshine by his cheery presence. At his side moved his gentle wife, casting a milder but no less certain radiance. She was almost always with him, except in his numerous journeys to the General Assembly, attendance on which she resolutely declined. They were singularly happy in the marriages of their children and all new members coming in were welcomed by the parents as if they had been indeed their own. The family tie was strengthened and not weakened by the new lives added. In later years they were called to mourn, as one by one their children by marriage were removed by death, and in each case their grief was deep and lasting, sorrowing for themselves and for the dear ones so sorely bereaved, and for the grandchildren left fatherless or motherless.
In 1864 began a series of summer gatherings unique in their character. It was not enough for Mr. Carter to visit his children in their homes, and have them visit him in New York with their little ones, a few at a time. He wanted all his clan assembled under one roof, and for a considerable period; so during the vacations of the ministers he invited all to some country haunt. He found comfortable quarters in beautiful Berkshire, Massachusetts, first at Stockbridge, afterwards at South Egremont. As years passed on, the party increased, until at last, with mothers-in-law and brothers-in-law and babies and nurses, it frequently numbered nearly forty. A large sitting-room was always provided where family prayers were regularly conducted, and where many a merry game was enjoyed in the evenings. The days passed in what seemed a delightful dream. The young cousins grew up with almost brotherly interest in each other. Occasionally a few congenial outsiders dropped into the happy circle.
Mr. Carter was always very fond of driving, and wherever he was would constantly get up great carriage loads to go to some point of interest. To him a pleasure shared was always doubled, and when he was along no one else ever troubled himself about expense.
Dr. Henry M. Field wrote in the Evangelist, after his old friend’s death:—
“For some years he spent his summers near us in the country, where in 1866 he received a visit from Dr. McCosh, who was then making his acquaintance with America, and the first time that we ever saw a face to which we were afterwards to look up with such a tender veneration was when Robert Carter and Dr. McCosh were on the lawn in front of the old farmhouse playing croquet. But the dear elder did not, any more than the learned divine, fail to seize every opportunity for doing good. He attended a little church among the bills, and his contribution to it was fully one tenth of the pastor’s salary; and when the latter was laid upon a bed of sickness, no visits were more frequent and more welcome than those of this man of God, whose very presence in the sick-room was a benediction.”
One of Mr. Carter’s most delightful memories of Stockbridge was of an evening at Dr. Field’s house, with Dr. McCosh, Dr. Mark Hopkins and his brother Dr. Albert Hopkins, and Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. It was an occasion never to be forgotten by any who listened to the flow of brilliant conversation.
The little church to which Dr. Field alludes was one in the village of Curtisville, about two miles from Stockbridge. The first summer that he visited Berkshire he was boarding with his family in a pleasant house, beautifully situated between Stockbridge and Curtisville, and with a lovely view over the picturesque hills and valleys of Berkshire. There can hardly be a more beautiful village on earth than Stockbridge, with its magnificent elms shading its broad street,—with its lovely homes, where culture and refinement have made their abode since Eliot and Jonathan Edwards lived there. The first Sunday Mr. Carter drove with his party to Stockbridge to church, but during the following week he noticed a spire near at hand among the trees, and inquired if there was not a church within walking distance. “O yes, there is the Curtisville church, but it is a plain little affair. You would not like to go there.” “I think I should, for two reasons. I never take horses out on Sunday if there is a church I can walk to, and we might be able to do some good in that church. The Stockbridge one is strong, and does not need us.” From that time he threw himself heartily into church work there, attending Sunday school and evening meetings as if he was a deacon or an elder. The prayer meetings were exceedingly interesting and very largely attended. Mr. Carter and his sons were cordially welcomed, and it is believed that great good was done in that quiet neighborhood. The people had grown disheartened, the church was in great need of repairs, but they felt unable to do anything. Mr. Carter spoke words of encouragement, and when he offered a liberal subscription on condition that they would do their best, the people took hold with a good will, and when he came back the next summer the shabby little building was transformed to such a degree as to be hardly recognizable. The whole church life was revived and spiritualized. It seemed as if the dry bones lived. The Sunday school was a special field of labor to him. Here and in many other schools he offered prizes to the children for different forms of Bible research. One of these was the offer of an attractive book to every member of the Sunday school who would bring him a written list of all the names of Christ that he could find. Such a list has been found prepared by himself, and containing one hundred and sixty-five names of our Lord. Books were promised to any one who would come and tell him that he or she had read the Bible through. In the course of his life he must have given thousands of volumes in this way. Another favorite scheme of his was to tell some young man who was beginning to use tobacco that he would give him twenty dollars if he would give it up till he came of age. He thought, if the habit was not formed before that age, there was little danger of its being formed afterwards. One day he met a young lad smoking, and said to him, “John, if you will stop smoking till you are twenty-one I'll give you twenty dollars.” The boy threw away his cigar, saying, “I'll never smoke again,” and he never did. When he came of age, and he had received his twenty dollars, a member of his family said to him, “ Are you not going to smoke again now?” “No indeed, I would not show such disrespect to Mr. Carter.”
It has been said that he was a peace lover. It was impossible to quarrel with him, because he positively would not quarrel. People tried it sometimes, and perhaps would go off in a huff because all their sharp speeches were good-naturedly answered, and then, when they got over their pet and came back, they found him just as he always had been, kind and friendly, with never an allusion to their former outbreak. He had the best of all dispositions, naturally a quick temper, under perfect control, He had his own strong convictions on important subjects, and was not afraid to express them when necessary, but he had large charity for other people’s convictions; and the petty affairs which many people quarrel over were to him trifles, unworthy of a thought. “Why do ye not rather suffer wrong?” was a text often on his lips.
At the close of the war, a good many of his Southern correspondents, of whom he had not heard for months or years, came North, and found him ready to give a kindly reception. A clergyman whom he had known well, a fine scholarly man, but a strong Secessionist, came into his store in the spring of 1865. Mr. Carter and his brothers were very glad to see their old friend, and gathered about him to hear how he had fared in the long period of silence and separation. He talked to them awhile with evident emotion, and then said, “Mr. Carter, I don’t understand this. I came North, expecting to find coldness and alienation, and you welcome me as warmly as you ever did.” “Oh,” said Mr. Carter, laughing, “of course we welcome the repentant prodigal.” “But I am not repentant. I am conquered, but not convinced.” “We receive you as a Christian brother, any way. The war is over, and we will all accept its conclusions, and talk over only the many things on which we meet on common ground, and not the few on which we disagree.” This clergyman had lost everything during the war; he was unable to preach, and was sorely embarrassed. The same day, a prominent and wealthy man of Chicago came into the store, and said, “I want to buy a library, and expect to spend twenty thousand dollars on it. I wish you would help me in the selection of the books.” Mr. Carter told him that he had not time to go into such a work, which should be done with great care, and would be a year’s work for some one, but said, “You know Dr.―, who has just come up from the South. He is just the man to do such a work, and I know that he greatly needs employment.” The position was offered, and gladly accepted by the clergyman, who gratefully thanked Mr. Carter, saying, “You certainly obey the injunction, ‘If thine enemy hunger, feed him.’ ” The idea of Mr. Carter regarding a political opponent as an enemy was preposterous in the last degree.
Another Southerner, who came up from the South at the close of the war and renewed old friendship with Mr. Carter, was Mr. McCarter, at whose house in Charleston, South Carolina, he had visited. He was a man of most benevolent character. In slavery times, no free colored person was allowed to live in South Carolina. If they earned money to purchase their freedom, they were obliged to put themselves under the protection of some white man, and be considered his slaves. Quite a large number had chosen him as their master in this way, and, while calling themselves his slaves, they carried on business for themselves. When Mr. Carter visited him, in 1855, he would frequently say, in passing through the streets, “That is my man,” or, “ That is my woman.” This noble Christian man during the war visited hospitals and prisons, carrying kindly relief and sympathy to the wounded of both armies. He had removed to Columbia, and was there when it was burned. When Sherman’s army passed through, there was great excitement and trouble in the town. He was summoned to his front gate to speak with a party of soldiers who demanded food, “I will do the best I can for you, but the Southern army has just passed through, and stripped our larder, and really I have but poor fare to offer you.” While he was speaking, the torchlight fell full on his face, and a soldier exclaimed, “Why, old horse, is that you?” And turning to the commanding officer, he said, “This man was very kind to us Northern prisoners. I was sick and in prison, and he came to me bringing comforts and speaking kind words.” “I shall set a guard on his house, then,” said the officer. “Sir, you need fear no further molestation.” Through all that stormy time, “the beloved of the Lord dwelt in safety by Him.”
When he came North, after peace was declared, he arrived unexpectedly one evening at Mr. Carter’s house, exclaiming, as he entered the parlor, “Will you receive an old rebel?” He was welcomed with open arms, and the two friends sat late that night talking over the exciting events that had taken place since they last met. Mr. McCarter wore a suit of rather rough-looking cloth, and, turning to his hostess, remarked, “You may not think I am very elegantly dressed, Mrs. Carter, but perhaps you may have more respect for my garments when I tell you that this suit I have on cost me six hundred dollars.” This little visit was greatly enjoyed by both friends, and they tacitly agreed to differ on topics on which they took entirely opposite views. The quiet games of chess over which they spent an hour each evening formed the only battle-ground between the two. One of Mr. Carter’s dearest friends was Mrs. Sarah A. Brown, who for many years kept a young ladies’ boarding school in New York. She had been associated with him in the High School, being principal of the girls’ department, and the friendship then formed was sustained through life. She was a woman of fine intellect and very lovely character. At the time of the riots, in 1863, she was living on the corner of Twenty-Third Street and Seventh Avenue. Looking from her window, she saw several colored women, with children, chased along the avenue by a mob. She went out on her steps and beckoned the poor creatures in, promising all the protection in her power. The mob surrounded the house, threatening to set fire to it if she did not give up the Negroes. Again she went out on her door-step, and addressed the rioters, saying that she felt that she could not die in a better cause than defending the oppressed, and that she never would give up these defenceless creatures. The noble words and dignified bearing of the stately, beautiful old lady, who counted not her life dear unto herself, so impressed those lawless men that they went quietly away, and she suffered no further molestation. She kept the refugees in her house for several days, and when at last the streets were quiet she went down to Mr. Carter’s store to ask if he would join with her in providing a simple outfit for them, as they had lost their clothing and furniture in the riots.
In July, 1867, one of her two daughters died after a brief illness at Princeton, New Jersey, where Mrs. Brown was then residing. At this time, Mr. Carter wrote her the following letter:—
“By a letter received yesterday, we were informed that your loving daughter, Miss Caroline, was no more. The sad tidings deeply affected us all, the more so as they were so unexpected. How little we know what a day may bring forth! What can I say to you to comfort you? You know the love of the Lord Jesus Christ, and you know how lovingly he dealt with her for many a year. Has he now in anger smitten her down? Can you suppose this to be the case? By no means! You mourn not as those without hope. For, as Jesus died and rose again, so those who sleep in Jesus he will bring with him. This sore trial to your faith and patience brings to my mind all the way by which the Lord has led you these nearly forty years since we first met. How goodness and mercy have followed you! And yet through much tribulation you have come. Can you not now set to your seal that God is true,—is love? For many years past I could say with the apostle, ‘I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.’ Can I not still continue to say so? Yes, ‘He doeth all things well.’ May it not be that he is saying to you, ‘Arise, this is not your rest, for it is polluted.’
“The venerable Samuel Rutherford, writing to a lady sorely bereaved, uses this language: ‘Build not your nest on any tree in this forest, for your Master has sold them all to death, and he will soon come and take them all away.’
“Grandmother, Mrs. Carter, and all of us, deeply sympathize with you and Miss Brown. The Lord deal very tenderly with you, and show you wherefore he contendeth with you, and make you to become more and more fruitful. ‘Whom he loveth, he chasteneth,’ He hath taken your loved child to himself. He hath washed her, and made her white and clean, and hath clothed her with the spotless robe of Christ’s righteousness. How happy she is now! how holy! how loving! We cannot think of her but as the bride adorned for her husband.
“Richard Cameron was beheaded at Airsmoss, in Scotland, and the headless body was there buried. Shortly after, Alexander Peden sat on the grave, and, wayworn and weary, raised his eyes to Heaven, and exclaimed, ‘O to be wi’ Ritchie!’
“We shall go to her; she shall not return to us. She is not dead, but sleepeth. May we too sleep as sweetly as she does in the blessed Saviour when our day is done and the night cometh! ‘Peace be unto you.’ ‘The very God of peace dwell in you richly, and make you to abound more and more in the fruits of the Spirit.’ ‘The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble, the name of the God of Jacob defend thee, send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen thee out of Zion.’
“I am glad that our dear brother M. is so near you. He is a wise counsellor, and loves you.
“May the Master open his lips, and cause him to speak comfortable words.
“We commit you and your dear daughter E. to our covenant-keeping God.”
Reference has been made several times to Mr. Carter’s friendship with Dr. McCosh, which began in 1850 and continued to the close of his life, when Dr. McCosh stood beside his coffin and paid a true and tender tribute to the memory of his tried and faithful friend. Dr. McCosh. gives the following history of his intercourse with Robert Carter:—
“I was first brought into communication with Mr. Carter when, in 1850, I published in Edinburgh my first book, ‘The Method of Divine Government, Physical and Moral.’ He immediately republished the work in America, sending me the nice little sum of fifty pounds. He took a deep interest in the book, and promoted its sale, not merely because it brought him business profit, but because he thought it would do good, and because he believed that it set forth what he was sure was the true doctrine in regard to God and his government. From that time I corresponded with him occasionally. I saw him in Edinburgh when he came on a visit to his native country looking out for good books to republish and make known and circulate in the wider country of America. I owe to him, as many others do, the introduction of my early works into the wide continent of North America. He threw himself heartily into this work, and carried it on in a business-like manner, believing that in this way he could do most good both in his native and his adopted country.
“Being now somewhat known in the United States, I paid a visit to that country in 1866. He received me as his guest, first in New York, and then in his summer quarters in a farmhouse near Lenox. In that latter place I saw him at his best. He had gathered his family around him. He was lively, he was genial. He had many an anecdote to tell of the scenes through which he had passed in Scotland and in America, In particular he watched with deep interest the career of Thomas Guthrie, whose works he published, and other eminent ministers of his native land. He felt a deep interest in the Scotchmen who came over to America. Some of them had unfortunately fallen into poverty and bad habits, and he took evident pleasure in telling how he had been the means of relieving them in their difficulties and starting them upon a new and better course. This was a subject on which he always delighted to expatiate.
“Everybody was impressed with two features of his character. One was his great conscientiousness. However brilliant and salable a book might be, he would not publish it if its tendency was not good, or even if it contained a passage fitted to injure religion or morality. In this respect he was more rigidly faithful than any publisher I ever met with. He used his daily employment as a means of imparting elevated knowledge and spiritual comfort to old and young. I know of no library, juvenile mission, or tract society containing a greater number of books, all good and none evil, than Mr. Carter’s store in Broadway.
“Every one noticed another characteristic. His heart was full of pious devotion. It was ever ready to express itself in prayers. It was pleasant and refreshing to join him in his family worship. At meetings for benevolent and religious purposes he was commonly asked to lead in prayer. Every sentence was rich with spiritual unction, and you felt that it was the outpouring of the heart.”
Dr. McCosh has kindly given his consent to the publication of three of his letters, which explain themselves and which throw light on a very interesting period in the lives of both. They were written in the interval between Dr. McCosh’s visit to America, in 1866, and his assuming the Presidency of Princeton College, in 1868. The first bears the date of Belfast, September 1, 1866.
“After a pleasant passage, I arrived in Queenstown on Wednesday, and at my own home the following day.
“My deepest feeling is one of thankfulness to the loving God who has kept me through these long voyages of six thousand miles, and of these still longer journeys of seven thousand five hundred miles, during the whole of which I have been in such a state of health as to enjoy the scenes through which I have passed, and to receive, I trust, profit from them.
“I also feel gratitude to the many, many friends, for such I reckon them, in America, who have shown me so much kindness and put themselves to so much trouble to throw open to me objects of interest in your towns and in your rural districts, in your churches and in your benevolent and educational institutions. Few travellers from our country have seen such a variety of men and manners, of industrial life and natural scenery, in your country, as I have had the privilege of doing.
“Among these friends I give the first place to you,—you and your family, and your brothers, and indeed your whole kindred and connection. I am indebted to you for being able to plan such a tour, and for making me known to many who helped me on my journey, and for the quiet though deep pleasure I always felt in the bosom of your family, first in New York, then still more in that lovely valley in Berkshire. I feel that the purposes which I had in view in my visit to your country have been fulfilled, and I thank God and my American friends that I have come home thoroughly refreshed in body and in mind; and I feel that I can enter with renewed life on my college duties and on my more general studies. I have received new and profitable sensations and impressions, and laid up many pleasant memories to be cherished in time, and I believe in eternity. I have formed acquaintances in a day or in an hour to be remembered by me as long as I have a memory.
“I found the good people in your country ready to reciprocate any feeling of kindness expressed by the people of this country. I rejoice in the opportunity which I had in the General Assemblies at St. Louis of making statements which I trust tend towards bringing Christians in your country into closer communion with Christians in our land.
“There was such a spirit exhibited at all our meetings about the Evangelical Alliance in New York, that I am confidently expecting that there will soon be a public announcement of the formation of an American organization to act along with the British in exhibiting and realizing the unity of the Church of Christ. It will now be my pleasant duty to report all this to Christians here, and thus join the other end of the chain and connect the countries by a quicker and a stronger bond than the Atlantic Cable. I have seen how much you owe to education, I have seen much in your higher schools and colleges to admire and to copy. I am ready to testify that in New England and in other parts, including the West, you have been able to raise the working classes to a state of physical comfort and of intelligence such as has not been realized in any country in Europe. Yon owe this to the Word of God, to your quiet Sabbaths, and to education.”
The following letter from Dr. McCosh bears date January 22, 1868:—
“In a letter which I had last week from a gentleman of some influence in the States, he mentions incidentally that Dr. Maclean has resigned the presidency of the New Jersey University, and that some are greatly talking of me for the office. I had occasion to write him, and said simply that I was not seeking any office here or elsewhere, but that if any such proposal was laid before me I would favorably consider it. I think it due to the friendship subsisting between you and me to let you know this. I am willing to go wherever my Master may call me to a wider field of usefulness, in this country or America. I have just declined a proposal to make me Professor of Theology in London to the English Presbyterian Church, because my field was not theology proper, but philosophy always in its religious bearings. I do not know the exact duties or emoluments of the New Jersey College; yet if it affords a wider field to me,—a field for turning all my studies in science and philosophy to a religious account,—I am willing to go at my Master’s command, bunt the invitation must come from others, and I will permit no solicitation on my part directly or indirectly. I think you understand my position. I rejoiced more than I can tell you over the success of the Philadelphia Convention. It is a great event in the history of the Presbyterian Church. I was so glad to find you taking a part in it, and a part which led to good results. As soon as I got the accounts I wrote two papers, with my name signed, for the ‘Weekly Review’ of London, and ordered copies to be sent to you.
“In the three kingdoms there is to be a desperate fight on the Endowment question. The battle is to be in Ireland, and I am in the heart of it. I have given my utterance. An attempt was made to bring me before the Assembly for censure. I have incurred a good deal of odium, but public opinion in the town is gradually coming over to the right side. I hope the Irish Establishment will go, and other consequences will follow. Those who stand up for the Donum here are combining with Begg and the Anti-Union men in Scotland. They feel the cause to be one. It will be a keen and disagreeable struggle, but under God I hope the end will be good.”
On February 8, 1868, he again writes :—
“The proposal to make me President of New Jersey University has come upon me with surprise. With so many gifted men in America, I am astonished anybody should think of me. I can look at the office only on one condition, and that is that the call comes spontaneously from the American side, and as a call in Providence. If it thus comes I shall feel bound to consider it favorably. There are some things which would incline me towards it. I should feel it an honor to be in an office filled by such Presidents, from Edwards to Maclean. I should willingly let my bones be buried in the spot where these Presidents sleep. I was greatly impressed with the abilities and character of the Professors in the College and Seminary, and feel that I could pleasantly spend my days among them.
“My past experience as a minister, first in the Church of Scotland, and then in the Free Church, and latterly as a Professor in the last established University in these kingdoms, and my rather wide studies, may, with the blessing of God, be turned into some use. I feel especially that I might have more freedom there to promote the cause of Christ than in a State college in this divided country,—that is, Ireland.
“There are considerations on the other side which I can- not look at at present, such as love to the old country and attachment to friends. I am glad you do not ask me to commit myself.
“If no call comes, I am not disappointed, as I have made no application, and cherished no hopes. If the call comes, I am bound to consider it fairly and prayerfully. I was not just offered the chair in London. But influential parties wrote me, pressing me to allow myself to be nominated. To each of them I wrote an immediate declination, my ground being the same as induced me to decline the call of the Assembly to a Free Church chair in Glasgow,—that, having devoted so many years to philosophy in its various bearings, I was not fit to teach theology. But I offered, if they did not ask me to separate myself from my chair here and from philosophy, to deliver a course of lectures to them every spring on the subjects lying between theology and science. The Synod does not meet till April. My proposal was private, and may not amount to anything.
“Thank God, I am well and have plenty of work. I began here in the College with about forty students; of late years, the names of my students have numbered from one hundred to a hundred and thirty-five.”
Little has been said so far of Mr. Carter’s General Assembly experiences. These formed a very interesting part of his life, and it is a great pity that a full record of them has not been kept. He was seventeen times a delegate, and took part in many important sessions, especially during the Reunion of the Old and New School Presbyterian churches. At one of the earlier meetings which he attended, the subject of ministerial relief was brought up. He arose and told the following story. Some years before, he had heard that a friend of his, minister to one of the poorer congregations in New York City, was ill, and he went to see him. He was evidently consumptive, and told Mr. Carter that his physician had said that he ought to go South, as he could not live through the Northern winter. “Why do you not start at once?” said Mr. Carter; “it is cold weather now.” The sick man requested his wife to leave the room, and said, “Mr. Carter, I have not a dollar in the world. My people can do nothing more for me. The doctor wants me to borrow money to go South as a means of saving my life, but I am not willing to run the risk of leaving my family with a burden of debt, if I am to die after all.” Mr. Carter was a poor man then himself, but he started a subscription, giving all he could, and went about among his friends asking for help. The sympathies of one benevolent lady were so aroused, that she got into her sleigh in the midst of a blinding snow-storm and collected from her relatives, and Mr. Carter went in a few days with five hundred dollars to the poor invalid, and laid the money on the counterpane before him. The good man clasped his hands, and with streaming eyes thanked God for his great bounty towards him. Then, turning to Mr. Carter, he said, “You and your friends have been very good to me. I never had so much money in my life before. I cannot go South; I feel that I am growing worse every day, and that it is better for me to stay at home. But this money will be a provision for my family, and I feel confident that the Lord who has dealt so graciously with me will be with my wife and children after I am gone.” After his death, his wife went into business in a very small way, keeping what was called a thread and needle shop. She had a hard struggle, but found friends, and was never forsaken.
From this story Mr. Carter made an urgent appeal that the church at large should do systematically what a few friends had done in this individual case. Many of the friends of ministerial relief have spoken of a new interest in the cause dating from this speech.
In 1863, Mr. Carter was a delegate to the Old School Assembly at Peoria. It was in the early days of the Reunion movement, and friendly resolutions were exchanged with the New School Assembly, meeting at Philadelphia. The following year, 1864, he was again a delegate at Newark, New Jersey. Here an informal meeting of ministers and elders was held for conference upon the expediency and feasibility of organic Reunion.
In November, 1867, he went as a delegate to a great National Presbyterian Convention, held in Philadelphia, “for prayer and conference in regard to the terms of union and communion among the various branches of the Presbyterian family.” The call for this convention originated with his old and valued friend, George H. Stuart, Esq., who presided over the meetings. On the first morning there was an elders’ prayer meeting at nine o’clock, and at ten o’clock a general prayer meeting presided over by the Rev. B. W. Chidlaw, of Ohio, another loved and honored friend of Mr. Carter’s. Mr. Chidlaw has authorized the following quotation from his book, “The Story of my Life.”
“At the expiration of the half-hour, I received a note from the chairman of the committee to nominate permanent officers, asking the continuance of the prayer meeting for fifteen minutes, when they would be ready to report. After reading the note, I requested some brother to lead in prayer. The response lingered. Just then I caught the eye of Robert Carter, of New York, and asked him to pray. He stood up before the Lord, and in Scriptural language bewailed and confessed the sin of division, his voice tremulous and penetrating, and full of pathos; then, as if relieved of a heavy burden, he pleaded earnestly for the fulfilment of the Saviour’s prayer for the unity of his people and the spread of the Gospel at home and abroad.
“This prayer was a wonderful outpouring of a soul endowed with an unction from the Holy One, and its effect on the audience was marvellous, melted into tears and awestruck in the presence of our prayer-hearing and prayer-answering God. The unbroken silence that followed told the impression produced. We were dumb before the Lord, whose presence we so fully realized.
“The committee reported, and their nominations were unanimously confirmed. They had failed to agree, and wanted further time. At the last moment, and in a way that they knew not, they harmonized during the time when Robert Carter was in prayer, became of one mind, and united in presenting their report. It was said that Rev. Dr. Musgrave, a leader in the Old School, rather indifferent, if not opposed, to Reunion, was so impressed with the prayer of Robert Carter that he became one of its strongest friends and ablest advocates.”
Mr. George H. Stuart says that, afterwards, “One of the members of the committee was anxious to have the report recommitted, not to change its essential features in any particular, but that so important a document might have the benefit of a little more careful revision from a literary point of view. A motion to this effect was made soon after the Convention was opened, but was strongly opposed by Dr. Musgrave, who had been regarded as an opponent of union, on the ground that the report came in answer to the prayers of the Convention, which had spent the time that the committee had been deliberating in prayer for their guidance. So the motion to recommit was withdrawn.” Mr. Stuart refers to this prayer as one “of wonderful fervor, which seemed to touch every heart.” Some one else has referred to this prayer as an “effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man, which prevailed on earth as well as in heaven.” “As a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed.”
This convention was a season of unbounded pleasure to Mr. Carter. He loved to speak of the many striking and dramatic scenes which characterized it, and which are familiar to most Presbyterian readers, for this was the period of the crystallization of the Reunion movement.
It was announced to the Convention that especial prayer had been offered for the success of the Reunion at the annual meeting of the Evangelical Societies of the Episcopal Church, which was in progress in Philadelphia at that time. A committee, consisting of Dr. Henry B. Smith, Dr. J. M. Stevenson, the Hon. Judge Drake, and Mr. Robert Carter, was appointed to convey fraternal greetings to the Episcopal brethren. They were received with the utmost enthusiasm, the whole congregation rising to welcome them. The Episcopal Assembly resolved to attend the Presbyterian Convention in a body the next morning, and be present while Bishops McIlvaine and Lee and others presented their salutations. A most striking and interesting scene in this reception was when the venerable Bishop Charles McIlvaine and the equally venerable Dr. Charles Hodge sprang to each other’s embrace upon the platform, each greeting the other as “Charlie,” as in the old familiar days when they were together in Princeton College and Seminary.
Afterwards Dr. Hodge said, “I hope this audience will pardon a reference which might seem personal under any other circumstances than the present. You, Bishop McIlvaine, and Bishop Johns, whom I had hoped to see on this occasion, and I were boys together in Princeton College fifty years ago. Evening after evening have we knelt together in prayer. We were baptized in spirit together in the great revival of 1815 in that institution, we sat together year after year in the same class-rooms, and we were instructed by the same venerable theological teachers. You have gone your way and I mine; but I will venture to say that I do not believe that in all that time you have preached any one sermon which I would not have rejoiced to have delivered. I feel the same confidence in saying that I never preached a sermon which you would not have cordially indorsed. Here we now stand, gray-headed, side by side, after more than fifty years, the representatives of these two great bodies, feeling for each other the same intimate and cordial love, looking not backwards, not downwards, at the grave at our very feet, but onward to the coming glory. Sir, were not your Church and ours rocked in the same cradle? Have they not passed through the same Red Sea of trial? Did they not receive the same baptism of the Spirit? What difference is there between the Thirty-Nine Articles and our Confession greater than the difference between the different parts of one great cathedral anthem that rises to the skies. We stand here to declare to the whole world that we are one in faith, one in baptism, and one in allegiance to our Lord.”
This interview between two of his beloved friends was very delightful to Mr. Carter, who always loved to dwell upon its memory.
The following year, 1868, Mr. Carter was again a delegate to the General Assembly, which met in Albany, and at which the subject of Reunion was the prominent topic. Towards the close of the session, which was a very exciting one, a committee, consisting of Drs. Beatty and Reed, and Elders Robert Carter and Henry Day, was sent to confer with the New School Assembly at Harrisburg. They were very kindly and warmly received, and, after speeches from each member of the committee, Dr. Nelson rose and asked Mr. Carter if he would answer a few questions. “Certainly.” “What is the position of the Old School Assembly in regard to Reunion?” Mr. Carter replied, that a large majority favored it heartily, but that he must acknowledge that a minority were opposed to it. “What is the character of that minority?” “It is mostly composed of the older men whom we honor as fathers. But may I not plead that the greatest consideration should be bestowed on these venerable men? Let me tell an incident which occurred many years ago in Scotland. The old Earl of Kilmarnock and his son fought on opposite sides at the battle of Culloden. After the victory, the son was standing with a party of officers on the field when a company of prisoners were brought in, among them the old Earl, bare-headed, his white hair streaming in the wind. The son spoke no word, but stepped forward and placed his own hat on the head of his father. So should we bear ourselves to those loved and honored fathers, who conscientiously dissent from us.” The New School brethren had been feeling a little restive under the slower movements of the Old School Assembly, but “these words produced a profound impression, and were among the gentle and Christ-like influences which smoothed over all difficulties, and brought about at length the reunion of the Church.”
Dr. Ellinwood, from whom the last sentence is quoted, adds: “This incident was characteristic of Mr. Carter in all his relations, and in all his Christian activities. This same spirit which favored progress on the one hand, and conciliation and forbearance on the other, characterized his whole course. As a rule, he voted for every wise measure of progress. There was a bright and hopeful energy to his mind even to fourscore years. He was not bound to the past. He expected progress, as he earnestly prayed for it. He realized that many of the old moulds and measurements must be outgrown.”
After leaving the New School Assembly at Harrisburg, Mr. Carter returned to his own Assembly at Albany, and made his report with the others of his committee. He was then sent to convey the greetings of the Old School Assembly to the United Presbyterian General Assembly at Argyle, New York. There he met with a hearty Scotch reception, and made a most felicitous speech. Thus he on three successive days addressed three separate General Assemblies.
In 1869, he was a delegate to the General Assembly meeting at New York, at which Reunion was consummated. He was a member of the Conference Committee to prepare the plan of Reunion, and he entered with all his heart into the work, and into the rejoicing over its accomplishment. It was a great delight to him to take part in the adjourned meeting of the Assembly, which took place at Pittsburg, in November, 1869. All the jubilation over Reunion was entirely after his own mind. There was no happier heart in the procession, as Old School and New, after pouring out of their respective places of assembly, met in the street and formed ranks anew, “the Old and New grasping each other, and amidst welcomes, thanksgivings, and tears, they locked arms and stood together in their reformed relations.” At the end of the grand Reunion meeting in the First Church of Pittsburg, “the Moderator called on Mr. Robert Carter, Ruling Elder from New York, to offer prayer. This he did with great unction, and, in hearty sympathy with the occasion, the great Assembly melted together at the throne of grace.”
The following year Mr. Carter met again with the reunited Assembly at Philadelphia, and bore his share in the great work of reorganization. He was afterwards a delegate to Baltimore and Buffalo, but was obliged to leave Buffalo before the close of the session, and was told by his physician that a man of his age should not again attempt sitting in a deliberative body.