---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Parry, Edwin F.
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 12
number: 10
published: 1909-08
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Edwin F. Parry, "Herbert Melbourne—IX," *Improvement Era* 12, no. 10 (August 1909): 776–781.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera12010unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera12010unse
start_page: 776
end_page: 781
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1909-08)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera12010unse
  publication_year: 1909
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1909, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Herbert Melbourne—IX

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HERBERT MELBOURNE.
                               BY EDWIN F. PARRY.

                                           XI.

       Three weeks from the time Herbert received notice of his re-
                                                   With him
lease found him on board a steamer bound for America-
                                                     —
was a small company of emigrants some from Great Britain,
some from Switzerland, some from Holland, and some from the
Scandinavian countries.
       Among the returning missionaries was Elder Brierly who, it
will   be remembered, was one of Herbert's companions on the out-
going trip from America.              He was the Elder who expected to find
his    parents, from whom he had heard nothing for            many years.
He had promised to write to Herbert and tell about                        his   finding
them, but had deferred doing so until it was too late.                          Now he
was pleased to meet him, and make amends for his seeming negli-
gence, by telling him the whole story of his mission.
       After receiving his appointment to labor in the Birmingham
conference, and reporting himself to the president of that district,
Elder Brierly asked permission to go in search of his parents.
       "You know, I had not seen my parents for upwards of eleven
years," remarked Elder Brierly to Herbert, by way of beginning
         "and you can perhaps understand how anxious I was to
his story;

meet them, if they were living. I knew the town where they were
residing when I left them, and could go directly to the old                      home
without inquiring about the way.                 I   concluded the best thing for
me to do would          be to go there and inquire of some of our old
neighbors, and see        if    they could not           tell   where   my folks had
moved.       I    did so, and    I   was' fortunate in finding an old friend of
father's.        He did not know me, but was able to give the informa-
tion I sought.       After telling me the address of my parents, he re-

<!-- page:777 -->

'

                           HERBERT MELBOURNE.                               Ill

marked, 'The old gent is not so well-to do as he was.                His health
is   not so good, and he can't work as he used to.'
        '
             'Hasn't he any children to help him?' I inquired.
            "Oniy a daughter,' he continued, 'and she got married just
lately.'

       "This was all news to me.              My two younger brothers as well
as my sister were living at home when  I last heard from the folks.

I  was anxious to learn what had become of the boys, and a little
curious to know what the man might have to say about myself, so
I inquired further, 'Weren't there more children in the family than

the one daughter?'
        '    '0 yes, there were three boys, but they have all gone away,
years ago.'
    "I was getting more and more interested.                     'Do you know
where they went?' I asked.
        1

            'Well, the first one, that was Jim, he went to Australia,          I

believe.  He wrote home for awhile, and then the folks heard no
more of him.     He was a good-for-nothing sort of a boy, anyway,
to leave his poor old father and mother that way.    It's now more

than ten years since he went off.
       "This was myself he was referring to in not very complimen-
tary terms.          'Perhaps Jim died in Australia', I suggested, in order
to learn what his opinion was about my fate.
       "That's what the folks think; but if he's still alive he's a
mighty ungrateful son, that's certain.                The other two boys went
to South Africa, and they write occasionally to the old folks.                I

believe they are pretty good boys.'
       "I was intending to            tell   the old gentlemen who I was, but
after this I was almost afraid to do so.           As he was still intimate with
the folks,       I   concluded   I   might as well tell him; and so I did, ex-
plaining to him how it happened that I appeared so ungrateful as
to fail to write to my parents.              He was astonished when I told him
my story. He appeared very pleased at my return, and as an apol-
ogy for the remarks he had made about me, he said he only sur-
mised what my character was from what he had heard.
        "I tell you, I lost no time in finding my parents.           That same
day I took the train and reached my destination in the afternoon.
As I walked along through ,the town I made up'my mind that I

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778                           1MPR0VEMEN7 ERA.

would not make myself known at once, but would wait and see                           if

the folks knew me.            As I approached the house my neart beat so
rapidly and so vigorously I feared I would not be able to carry out
my little plan.
      "I found the little cottage without much difficulty.                    While it
was a humble dwelling, it was cosy, and unlike many of the poorer
houses of the town.   Instead of being close to the street, as was
the case with most of the cottages of the working classes, this
and the adjoining houses were set back about two rods from the
sidewalk. It reminded me of our Utah homes. There was a picket
fence in front, and the garden between the fence and the house
was filled with old-fashioned flowers             — there were holly-hocks and
lark-spurs; and the pathway from the gate to the front door                          was
arched over part of the way and covered with hop-vines; and on
either side of the door were morning-glories.
      "It was late in the afternoon when I arrived at the place.                      In
answer to my knock an aged lady came to the door.                      I    recognized
her as my dear mother.      She appeared somewhat older than
when I last saw her, otherwise her features were the same, and
she   still   wore the      little   old-fashioned cap with        frills   about the
front.        Evidently she did not know me, and looked inquiringly at
me to learn what was my errand.                  I   told her that I was a Latter-
day Saint missionary, and would be pleased if she would permit
me to sit down and talk to her about our doctrines for a few mo-
ments.        At first she hesitated, and I rather pushed myself in and
helped myself to a chair. I could see that she was not particularly
pleased at         my audacity,      and    I   apologized by saying that        I   had
walked a long distance and was tired.                   I   had had no missionary
experience then, and my explanations of our belief were awkward,
I   know.
      "When she had an opportunity to reply to what I had told
her she asked, 'Aren't you a 'Mormon?'
           'Yes,' said I, 'that's what we are commonly called.'
       '
           'I've   heard a deal about what awful people the 'Mormons'
are, and       I don't    care to have anything to do with them,' she
added.
       '
           'Well,'   I   continued,    'I   lived    among    the 'Mormon' people
for a number of years, and            I    found them to be a good, honest re-

<!-- page:779 -->

HERBERT MELBOURNE.                                   779

ligious      people.        I   investigated their teachings and became con-
vinced that they had the truth, and                now I am out here, six thou-
sand miles fiom my home, for the purpose of telling others of the
blessings        of the gospel; and I am here at my own expense.                 I   am
doing this for the love I have for the people.'
     "I talked to her in this way for some time, awaiting a favor-
able opportunity to  make myself known.     Finally she remarked,
'If you are a 'Mormon' you do not seem to be such a bad sort of
chap. You say you came from America, but you talk like an Eng-
lishman?   Were you born in this country?'
            'Yes,'    I    answered,   'I    was born in   this country,    and not
many miles from this place.'
    " 'I thought so,' she went on.   'You remind me of our Jim-
my, you do. He was a lad just about your size, too.'
    " 'Jimmy is your son, I suppose,' said I. And where is he!'
        '
            'I   suppose the dear boy is dead, for we have never heard
from him these              six years or more; and it's eleven years since he
left   home,' said my mother, as she wiped a tear from her eye.
       " 'But he may be             alive,   and you may hear from him yet,' I
said cheeringly.
        '
            'He was a blessed good boy, and I do not know why he does
not let us know if he is alive,' she sobbed.
    "I could wait no longer, sol sprang to my feet and explained,
'Would you believe it if I should tell you that your Jimmy is yet
alive?'

        '
            'Indeed I should like to hear such joyful news,            if   it   could
only be true,         — but' —
       " 'Mother,' I shouted, at the same time embracing her tightly
in   my arms, 'I am your long lost son! I am James Brierly!'
       She resented my familiarity by pushing me away and then eyed
me closely.            I   soon convinced her that 1 was her son, and then
she hugged            me and wept and laughed hysterically.           Of course I
hastened to tell her my history, including my conversion to 'Mor-
monism,' and my mission to this country.
       "As       to   my being a 'Mormon,' she simply remarked, 'Well,
you never seemed to be interested in your parents' religion, and if
you have found one that suits you, I suppose it is all right.                    I al-

<!-- page:780 -->

ways believed you were a good boy, and would come back home
some day, if you could.'
     "Soon my father came home from his daily labor, for it was
getting late in the afternoon.    He was not strong and vigorous,
as when I saw him last.     [ noticed a great change in his appear-

ance.   There was no chance for me to introduce myself to him as
a stranger, for the moment he was in sight my mother rushed to
meet him and tell the joyful news.
     " 'Aye, father, here's our lost boy, Jimmie, come back to us!
We thought he was dead long ago, but here he is, come to see his
old   father and mother;' and she danced about in her glee, like a
young girl.
    " 'Don't act so foolish, girl,' said father, 'do you say        this   is

the lad Jim?   He looks like a Yankee.'
       "You know all Americans are called Yankees by Englishmen.
       " 'Yes, he's been away off to America,' said mother.         Father
f tood      facing   me   with a stare for a few seconds, then he walked
closer.        'I'm 'Jim, sure enough,' said I.   You can tell me by my
teeth, can't you, father?'
     Then he recognized me as I smiled more broadly. He seemed
to be as pleased as mother was to see me.      Then I had to retell
all my past history from the time I left home.    In the meantime
mother prepared supper, and we all ate as I went on with my nar-
rative.   But when I told father that I was a 'Mormon,' it upset
him completely. He couldn't finish his supper.
       "He brought his fist down upon the table, and struck it several
times before he could speak. At last he thundered out, 'I'd rather
have heard you were dead a hundred times than to know you had
been persuaded to join those abominable imposters, the 'Mormons!'
And        you've come here to induce us to believe your devilish doc-
trines!       But you can't do it.    You can't stay in this house unless
you renounce your wicked religion!          No, even   if   you are my son,
I   won't own you; so the sooner you leave the better for you!'
       '
       'I kept calm as I could and tried to reason with him, but it
was of no use.    Mother tried to quiet him, too; but the more we
tried the worse he became. I finally appeased his anger somewhat
by telling him that I would never mention a word about my religion
to him, unless he asked me about it. He assured me that he would

<!-- page:781 -->

—

                             HERBERT MELBOURNE.                                        781

not ask me anything about it, for he knew enough already.                          Upon
this condition          he was willing that I should remain over night, for
I   intended ^o return to my field of labor the next day.
       "I left some of our books at the house, not saying a word
about them, thinking perchance father or mother might read them,
and became interested.                I    corresponded with the folks quite fre-
quently.          I   was careful to avoid all reference to my religion, but
wrote in a very kindly and loving spirit.                  I   visited them from time
to time, and it was not long before father began making inquiries
about my labors, and about our doctrines.                       Finally he and mother
applied for baptism. They were converted to the truth, and father
admitted that he was                full    of prejudice       when I first returned to
their home.           Of course, I could understand the reason for his bitter-
ness, and felt from the first that his misunderstanding about                          our
people might be removed.
       "But I have not told all my story yet.               About a year ago my
two brothers returned from South Africa.                    They also have joined
the Church, and so has my sister.                    So before my release we had
an enjoyable family reunion -the first one                      in   over twelve years;
and    I   tell   you we all were made happy.                   Father and mother are
on board with me.               I   intend to take them to            my little home    in

Utah. We'll have plenty of room for them, and I feel that I will be
able to take care of them in their old age.                      Father's health is not
very good.             He is unable to do hard work, but he can take                   his

comfort now; he will not need to work so hard as he has done.                          My
brothers and sisters expect to follow us to Zion in a few years,
and then there will be another happy reunion.                           Altogether I feel
very well satisfied with the results of my mission, and I shall be
glad to meet my own little family in our mountain home."

Salt Lake City, Utah.
                                      [to be continued.]

                         A lesson learned is ne'er a battle lost,
                         Whene'er the cause is right, be not afraid;
                         Defeat is then but victory delayed
                         And e'en the greatest vict'ries of the world
                         Are often won when battle- flags are furled.
                                                                     — Success.
