CORNISH SAINT WITH
A TOP HAT

MARTIN HOSKING, OF LELANT

THE GOOD SAMARITAN OF
BALLARAT.

Mr. R Williams., formerly of St Just. writes from Melbourne, Australia: —

I enclose  herewith a  cutting taken from a newspaper published in Mel-bourne. thinking  that   perhaps  you might  use  some of  it for that (to me) dear  old  newspaper  "The Cornishman." I personally never met Martin Hosking. but  two  of  my  sisters  knew him by sight.

I  know  Ballarat  very well.    The  sight of worked-out  mines  vividly  reminded me of Wheal Oall. The Bounds, Wheal Owles, Bolallack. and North Levant and Balleswidden.    I  am  (and always will be) a St. Just man.   I have. with delight, met many Cornishmen in New Zealand and in Australia.

Hoping  this  will reach  you enjoying the  best of health  and prosperity abounds in Penzance not forgetting St. Just.

"Martin Hosking, with his top hat. long coat and neatly folded umbrella. was a familiar figure in  the streets of Ballarat. For  more than twenty years he was the city missionary who went about on errands  of  mercy  from  morning till night.    He  mingled with the poor, and. like a good samaritan. washed their sores. bound their wounds, lit fires in  empty grates and fed the hungry.

The name of Martin Hosking is a legend in Victoria, .especially in Ballarat, and more especially amongst the Cornish people.    Ever  since   I came  to Australia I have heard his name mentioned with affection and  reverence  as one who "went about doing good."

Last year it fell to my lot to undertake considerable research work in the re- ligious life of the State, and though I frequently  came  upon the name of Mar-tin Hosking. I could glean very few bio-graphical  details of him.

One thing, however, was unmistakable —men of all creeds loved him.   His son. Dr. Richard Hosking, has done well to prepare for publication some account of this saintly  Cornishman  —"lncidents in The Life of Martin Hosking."

PARSON TONKIN. OF ST. BURYAN AND LELANT.

When Parson Tonkin removed from St. Buryan to  Lelant in 1834,  he took with him his head gardener. Martin Hosklng --commonly known as Uncle Martin. In that lovely village of Lelant,  overlooking the beautiful  St. Ives Bay,   a son was born in  the  Hosklngs'  thatched cottage in the November of 1841.

Uncle Martin's son came to be known as Little Martin.   He had a happy child-hood incurably cheerful, yet intensely earnest, playing among the undulating grass-covered sandhills, watching the antics of rabbits. and  listening to the song of the skylarks.   One of his friends was  the  old  ferryman  Tom Gall, who. like  Daniel Peggotty,  lived in an  up-turned boat on the sands.

SCHOOLDAYS AT LELANT.

Little Martin  had a slender schooling for he had  to help his  father  in the garden for some days in  the week, and then, when the family became "Chapel" the  Vicar would  not allow  a boy   who did  not go to church to attend the he school which he controlled.

Like  many another high-spirited lad. he made himself a nuisance in the Sun-day school—so much so  that the teacher of  his class  resigned.   But  the root of the matter was in him. and after his conversion, he became a stalwart tem-perance advocate and an open-air preacher.

The fathers of the chapel in Lelant, were  anxious for him to enter the minis-try, and  offered  to send him to college. but  Martin  was  not certain  that  the will of God lay in that direction, and he refused.

At this time  James Gilbart  employed him  in the garden, and three times a week gave him  lessons in English gram-mar.     One  day   Mr. Gilbart   ask  Martin to  help   in  carrying  a  small  barrel  of ale into the house. but he respectfully refused,  " Anything  else you may want me for,  sir,  by night or by day,  but  I cannot do that.' he said.

Trecobbin Hill (Trencrom),  near Lel-ant, was a favourite haunt..   The hedges of the lower slopes were gay with prim-roses and violets while the summit was crowned with granite rocks.

Away to the south he could see the  beautiful Mount's Bay, with one arm stretching towards the Lizard, and the other reaching out to the Land's End.

OFF TO AUSTRALIA.

In 1862. when he was 21 years of Martin abruptly determined to come to Australia.      He  always maintained  that  it was in response to a Divine urge. Arriving  in  Victoria  in   February,  1863, he went straight sway to the diggings, and  worked  in the  Band  of  Hope Mine at Little Bendigo, Ballarat.

For a time he was fairly successful and, in 1866. he sent borne for his Sun- day-school sweetheart, Sarah Richards and they were married at Emerald Hill in 1866.

In the meantime, be had become sec-retary of the Perseverance Company, a mining venture at Durham Lead. near Buninyong, which however. did not turn out well.   Dr.   Hosking says, to his father's credit,   that  when  others  sold out  their  interests.   he refused to sell and involve someone else  in loss, con-vinced as he was that the mine was worthless.

FOUND HIS LIFE WORK.

The  first five years  of   their  married life were marred by unemployment and debt.   How often a man finds his right opening in life because every other door is closed  against him!   Such is the way of   Providence.    Martin Hosking had more than a spark of poetic fire in him, and  a  long  poem  which  he  wrote at this time of depression—an exile's long-ing. for his native village—has been fittingly included in this biography.

Dr. Hosking tells how his father found his life's  true work.      One evening, after a long day spent in a disappointing search for employment, he heard that several miles away, a man was required for  that  night's  shift   to  take  the  place of  a miner who had become ill.     After two hours' trudge, he reached the place and worked all through the night.

When be returned home his wife, newspaper in hand, met him and said. "Martin, here's an advertisement for a Town Missionary at Ballarat.   You must get the position,"  "I," said the weary. discouraged man,  shaking his head, "There will be dozens of applicants and not one member of the committee knows me."   "You shall write," continued the Lelant girl. Martin did write, and was successful and received the appointment on February 9. 1872, thus becoming the first Town Missionary of Ballarat.

The Ballarat Town and City Mission was born out of the compassion of a group of Christians for the poor and un-churched people in that golden city.

At that time Ballarat East was a very different  place from what it is  to-day. From  Eureka   Street  to  York   Street, there were hotels, casinos. and places of illfame.  which were a menace to the town.   The mission concentrated its at-tack  on  this  locality   until  it  was  en-tirely changed.

Martin Hosking could go into hotels at any hour among the drunken and quarrelsome, but no one ever molested him.   He could go into the houses of illfame and pray with the poor fallen women until thev were melted to tears.

He was the  city almoner also.   The rich put money into his bands and never asked  him  to give  an  account  of  It. They   trusted  him  implicitly, . and the poor  blessed him wherever he went.

HIS WORK FOR THE POOR

Martin Hosking  is described as a man of  medium height and build, with dark hair  and  beard,   with eyes that were quiet but strong. with a face that was honesty itself.   He impressed you, moved you. and won you.   No one could deny him anything.   As a preacher he could hold  a crowd  in the  open  air  or  from the pulpit.

From morning till night he went on errands of mercy ; he was at the service of  anybody   and everybody   and  often. he was called up during the night by importunate demands on behalf of the sick and the dying.

At a time when scarlet fever was very deadly  in   Ballarat,  he went   in and out of the stricken homes, nursing, helping, healing and praying.   For twenty-one years spent  himself  with reckless en-ergy in his work,

Though he mingled with the poor, washed their sores and bound their wounds, lit their fixes and cooked their food, he was always a well dressed man. His top hat, long coat,  and neatly folded umbrella were familiar in  the streets of Ballarat.

When his health broke down in 1889, the affection for him  spontaneously burst forth. In a few weeks £400 was sub-scribed to send him for a  trip to  Eng-land.   The railway station was crowded when he  left, and mothers brought their little children to receive his blessing.

HIS VISIT TO CORNWALL.

The story  of  his  visit  to Cornwall is the best part of the book. It consists almost entirely of his own inspired de-sciptions.      Anyone  who  after  long years, has gone on pilgrimage to the plane where lie was brought up, will sympathise with this son of  Cornwall go-ing back  to his  old haunts in lovely Lelant.   I can only treat my readers to a  taste of his story :

" I  got out at St. Erth station, and walked  down  the  old   turnpike  road, with the same gates to the fields. There was the same 'nut lane,'  with its hedges full of wild flowers and covered with hazels ...   As I walked along I re-membered everything. There was the cottage  at  the foot of  the hill,  with its neat garden in front, and the roses climbing over the walls ; there was the orchard   on  the  other side  of  the road. in which was the tree whose fruit made me sick when a child.

"Away  I  went up the hill, down the valley with new raptures at every step. There was the Wesleyan Chapel. and an aged  man  stood   near  the door.  I said: *I see  this is a Wesleyan Chapel; may I go Inside and look  at  it?   He said: "Aw, is, If 'ee do mind to."  and we were soon inside.   There was the place where we had our annual teas, and the 16-ounce saffron  buns  which  I  shall  never  forget.

Memories came crowding thick and fast.  and  I began  to feel chokings and twitchings  about   the  throat  and   mouth. ...  I  cannot   describe    my   emotions. but,  when my feelings had cooled down. the  old man  said: 'lt's  never  Martin, es it!"       He began to weep,  and told me that his two boys, who had been my schoolmates, were dead. Shaking my heed heartily, he expressed his pleasure in welcoming me borne.

THE OLD ORCHARD AT LELANT.

"I went through what had been our orchard.    There I had passed many happy hours in childhood among the primroses. polyanthus, 'cuckoos,'  colum-bines  and  other  wild  flowers, listening to the songs of the blackbird, the thrush and the gold-finch.   I recognised every tree,  and  every part of the orchard brought back fresh memories."

It ls a deeply stirring  record. and his descriptive powers  are seen here in full bloom.

He returned to Australia, very much improved in health, at Christmas time. 1889.   Soon he was at all his old work again.   By the end of 1898, however, he was very weak. But still he carried on. During his last illness he bad been or-dered  to go out  for  a daily drive of an hour or two.   The  cost  was  more than he could  afford,   but  friends supplied him   with  funds  to hire  a conveyance. He was delighted and went round col-lecting as many old, infirm people as he could possibly take with him.   HI son says that he hastened his own end by overtaxing   himself in his anxiety to comfort others.

A RABBI'S TRIBUTE.

When he died in February 1893. hie funeral was one of the largest ever seen in  Ballarat.   The  streets  were crowded by the people whom he had loved and served  with  such  in calculating devo-tion.

The Jewish Rabbi said of Martin Hosk-ing:   "Be was a good man and died a hero's death.   Forgetting himself, he nobly carried the banner of love and sympathy into the homes of the sick. distressed and dying and spared not himself in his self-sacrificing labours."

Such was the character of Martin Hosking, an uncanonised saint but a saint in the New Testament meaning of the word - a thorough-going Christian.