Note 11 — Chapter X

Philip Santo—a prince among men—a generous, sympathetic soul "Come to see us", was his message to me, "Jeff." (T. J. Gore) "wants to see you—I will take no excuse". Of course, I had to go. When we had enjoyed his home for a while he sent "Jeff." and me to the seaside—to Port Elliot, the farthest limit of land toward the South. Up on the immense cliff at the hotel we feasted the body and rested, while we looked far out over the Southern ocean toward the South Pole. At night the tide would lash the waves up in sprays to the very top of this cliff: in the afternoon we strolled the beach, gathering shells, and leaving our little (?) footprints to be washed away at even. Every year T. J. Gore visits Port Elliot with his family for a season; and a picture of it hangs on the wall at Carr-Burdette College.

Philip Santo, happy man, was always planning, preparing something for the good of the Church. He would sit in his Library at night and read until absorbed in some happy thought he would say: "Jeff., what does this Scripture mean?" and then he would be silent until next Lord's day morning when "Jeff." would be delighted with the lesson, and the exhortation Philip Santo would give at the church. Those who heard him speak in the House of Parliament were glad to hear him in the Church; for in the honesty of his soul he ministered in each place. When I bade him good-by he insisted that I take fifty dollars; for, said he, "I do not permit the preachers to come to see me at their own expense".

He visited us in Hobart City, Tasmania. He entered the store of his old time friend, with a cordial greeting. "How do you prosper"? The friend, a hypercalvinist, he who heard O. A. Carr gladly, read Milligan's Scheme of redemption and pronounced it the best book, next to his Bible, he had ever seen, "but who drew back when he heard a sermon on 'My Sheep'—"Very well indeed," he said, "until the preacher (Carr) began to preach Campbellism". "What is that you said he preached", said Santo. "What is Campbellism?" "Oh, I don't know; but that is what they said he preached". Then he enveloped himself in a mist of dreary theology, and proceeded into the darkness of the decrees of foreknowledge and "fixed the fate" of all, as he thought. Whereupon Santo remarked: "Do you think that any man of ordinary sense can understand what you have been saying?" Our friend was a good man, and he could bear it, when Philip Santo said it; but he went into the other room to cool off; but soon returned to indulge in reminiscences. He read in a few days the announcement that "The Hon. Philip Santo, from Adelaide, would preach the next Lord's day in O. A. Carr's place". Then it was revealed that he had given himself away together with his cause; but he continued to maintain stoutly that a "sheep could never become a goat".

On leaving us he said: "I want to give you this: you may need some pocket change"—and placed $50.00 in my hand. Thus he moved around among the churches—distributing to the necessity of saints like he was "given to hospitality" in his home.

His heart's desire was to visit his brethren in America. His active business life forbade a lingering while here. He telegraphed to me to meet him in St. Louis. Feeling that we must have him in our home at Columbia, my answer was to tell him how he could come, and be sure to come; but he must set sail from California at a fixed date and could not. We missed the joy of his presence. How I would love now to have the opportunity to do his bidding; but he has gone from the earthly life.

O. A. C.