On Sunday, they went to hear Spurgeon preach. It was a very ordinary sermon; his statements had been made thousands of times before, and to none who listened, were they new. His manner was untheatrical, his flow of eloquence was not intense. Everything was the essence of simplicity. He began by holding up a rose. He said that on his way to the tabernacle, a woman had given it to him. He spoke of his happiness caused by this simple gift, then of the beauty of flowers, and of giving; and, as the audience of 3,000 listened, they were melted to tears. His subject was the Accessibility of Christ. It was the tenderness in his words and voice that wrought the charm. The singing was general; it seemed that each of the 3,000 took upon himself the responsibility of carrying the song through to its conclusion.
In Birmingham, the Carrs visited David King, editor of the Harbinger; he was the most prominent member of the Christian Church in England, of his day. It was his custom to question the preachers who passed through his country, to find out if they were "sound." It was from him that Mr. Carr discovered the British objection to the American custom of extending an invitation to the unsaved at the conclusion of the sermon. It was also Mr. King who went to the office to buy the Carrs their tickets up to London, fearing they would not get second-class ones. "Only fools and noblemen ride first-class in this country," was his dictum; "the second class is just as good and costs half as much."
The following brief notes show us that Mrs. Carr is in Scotland: "Holyrood—Rezzio's Slaughter—Residence of bygone monarchs—where Lord Murray held his Council—Residence of Mary Queen of Scots—where Her Majesty stops, when in Edinburg—Castle of Craigmillar—where Mary sometimes held her court—Lochleven Castle."
She was particularly interested in Wales: "Canarvon Castle, built by Edward I.—First Prince of Wales born here—April 25, 1284—Chamberlain Tower, occupied by the Lord Chamberlain—Eagle Tower, so called because of the Eagle Sculpture on its turret. Prisoner, or Dungeon Tower. It is supposed this castle was never completed. The banqueting hall, entirely destroyed—In this castle the present Prince and Princess of Wales were entertained during their visit to Canarvon, April 24. On this occasion, Wellington Tower was magnificently decorated.
"North Wales—across the straight of Angelsey; lodgings here. Ebb and flow of the tide—Hawthorne—a beautiful lodge, the entrance to a residence—Suspension bridge over the Menia Strait—Castle—Model village, Bethesda, near the slate quarries—20 galleries, each 60 feet high—the deeper the quarry, the better the slate—Tunnel and railways with round rails and grooved wheels, working with rope—Blasting signal, first a red flag, then the bugle. Each gallery one mile around the rail—1,200 feet from lowest gallery to top—300 men employed. Total wages per month, 1,200 pounds.—Penryln Castle, 16 years building, completed 30 years ago—Main entrance, heavy iron gate, swinging on massive pillars of stone, with imposing ivy-clad arch above; winding roads and bypaths; through rare shrubs and gorgeous flowers of innumerable species—Main entrance to Castle yard, a massive orchid gateway—Main entrance to Castle, massive cross-barred iron doors in base of tower—Four towers with the ivy, beautiful emblem of trust, clinging to them all—Interior; entrance hall, billiard room, innumerable lobbies with rare ceilings, main stairway, bedrooms with antique furniture, drawing-room, dining and breakfast rooms, library, chapel for family worship, minor stairways, etc.—Family of 10 children, two married and now in London—will return here in July. Culinary apartments; cook's sitting-room, where he writes the bill of fare."
All these sights, crowded as they are into a few days, delay the departure for Australia; moreover, the travelers have decided to take a sailship. They have sufficient knowledge of the deathly throb of the steamer, the quiver that sends unutterable faintness and nausea to those susceptible to seasickness. The sailship, they are told, skims the waves like a bird—one hardly knows he is afloat, or knowing, feels himself lightly carried through the air.
Mrs. Murby finds her new acquaintances have not left, and writes to Mrs. Carr at Liverpool, on May 15th, "I was very much pleased to receive your letter yesterday; I had supposed you would be far away from Old England by this time. I just wish you had stayed with us longer! There are lots of places besides the British Museum, I could have taken you to see. You say you are to leave on Saturday, the 19th, but the 19th is Tuesday, so we can hear from each other if we cannot meet. If I can find that church in Camden Town, for your sakes I will visit it. The few days we spent together will always be remembered by us with pleasure. I sincerely trust we may all be spared to meet again; you may rest assured of a hearty welcome. In the meantime we can correspond with each other. I went to sit for my portrait yesterday; it will be ready for me to-morrow, and I will send it to you before you leave Liverpool."
So writes the editor's wife—she who finds primroses in the streets of London; and her letter comes as a last voice of love to one about to embark upon a sea-voyage of more than a hundred days.