Six years after the arrival of T. J. Gore in Adelaide, the Grote-st. chapel was enlarged. Brethren Santo, Verco, Burford, Messent and Kidner were among the early members of the church in South Australia, and these were the brethren who worked with T. J. Gore. In these early days Dr. Thomas Porter in company with T. J. Gore stayed for some months with Dr. Kidner; they shared the same room, and T. J. Gore, who was ever fond of fun, and knowing that Dr. Porter was very ticklish, one night after they had got into bed reached over and gave the doctor a dig in the ribs. This sent him out of bed, and he came down on his back; being a big man he made a considerable noise. Dr. Kidner rushed up stairs in a great state of alarm to find these two young preachers helpless with laughter. Many were the hardships, but many the good times these brethren shared. A trip to Milang and Point Sturt, Two Wells or Alma Plains churches meant a great deal to the brethren, and the churches were considerably strengthened. T. J. Gore ministered to the church at Grote-st. from 1867-1885 and from 1893-1898. During his ministry at Grote-st. he four times visited America; he went especially to see his mother, who was very, very dear to him. Grote-st. was greatly blessed during the two periods of ministration there. Many of the workers in the suburban churches now were brought into the [24] church at Grote-st. during his ministry. "Quiz" was then in circulation in Adelaide, and the Editor each week visited a different church and wrote up his criticism the following week of church and preacher. One night he visited Grote-st. quite unexpectedly, and as an outside criticism the following is quoted:--

      "A plain-looking edifice. Nothing of a pretentious nature about the worshippers who enter and take their seats in an easy, unconventional style born of long use. A church, too, which disregards the fashionable requirements of modern times so far as the hours of its service are concerned. A church which opens at half-past six o'clock although rival synagogues do not set their bells a-ringing until nearly seven o'clock in the Summer months. Even the press announcements are modest. In Saturday's 'Advertiser' Quiz read--'Church of Christ, Grote Street. Mr. T. J. Gore, M.A. To-morrow, 6.30, Subject, "The Gospel: What is it?"' Mr. Gore does not style himself a reverend. He is content to be a plain 'Mister.' Quiz wondered whether he had lighted upon a Socialistic church at last, or at least a church which would enunciate the Socialistic doctrines preached by Jesus Christ, of Nazareth. When the preacher denies the chance of being called 'Reverend' there must be great hope for him. And it was in this spirit that Quiz went to the Church of Christ, Grote Street, last Sunday evening. When Quiz entered the building it was well-nigh full. There were late arrivals, it is true, and there were two worshippers in the seat that Quiz occupied who were not quite so devout as they should have been. They were sweethearts. It did not require a magician to detect so much. They used the same hymn-book, and they slyly squeezed each other's little fingers as they sang. Then there was some secret understanding between them, and before the sermon commenced they drifted away outside where [25] he could say soft nothings and she could recite poetry or hymns, or something of that sort. Quiz thought they were only dodging the collection. But there was no collection. Will somebody pass up the red chalk? The first note Quiz made was that the organ was of the Smith-American variety. Note number two was that the choir appeared to be large and well-distributed. Note number three was that there was a freeness and easiness about the congregation. They seemed to have attended either to gain intellectual or spiritual support. They entered with a heartiness into all the proceedings. When they were called on to sing they sang with a verve that could only be excelled by a comic opera chorus, when the stage manager is standing at the wings endeavouring to detect deficiencies. This, however, is hardly giving a description of what took place at the Church of Christ, Grote Street, last Sunday evening. As soon as the notes of the voluntary had died away, or, to be strictly accurate, sooner, two gentlemen stepped into the pulpit--the one a young man and the other an elderly individual, whom a lady novelist would describe as having a grizzled aspect. There seemed to be a sort of partnership in the church, a kind of Moody and Sankey affair, and any ideas one might have formed on this score were strengthened by the fact that the Ira D. Sankey hymn-book was so strongly in evidence. Anyone who has ever seen Mr. Gore in our streets is not likely to mistake him again. A tall man with a resolute demeanor, clean shaved on the upper lip after the American fashion--for Mr. Gore is an American--and an accent that there is no mistaking. Quiz does not know where Mr. Gore was born, but he guesses and calculates that the locality was somewhere in the region of the great United States. And all the more power to him, says Quiz. The Americans, as a nation--but this is not a political column, and, besides, there is much to be said of a personal character. The young man who supports Mr. Gore is dressed in ordinary civilian's [26] costume. He gives out the hymn, and he does not read badly either. There is the suggestion of a twang in the voice to be sure, but the expression is not incorrect, which after all is the main thing. He does not make a mess of it when he is reading the Scriptures. This young chap has evidently been having elocutionary lessons, and he has benefited by them. Then Mr. Gore comes to the rescue and prays, and you notice, if you are at all observant, that one male member of the choir and one devout gentleman, who looks like a deacon and sits, as a rule, at the back of the church, stand up while the parson is interceding with the Almighty. Another gentleman turns his back on the pulpit and kneels facing the West. He can't be an Afghan, because the Afghans do their praying with their faces turned towards the rising sun. After the third hymn has been sung Mr. Gore's precentor leaves him and Mr. Gore plays a lone hand. There is no sort of fuss or trouble about him. He has got his message off by heart. So soon as he has read out his text he throws aside his spectacles. He means to convince the unbelievers who are sitting in front of him. You realize this when he has given forth the opening sentence of his sermon. There is no display of any sort. Indeed you hardly realize at first that the real business of the evening has commenced. There stands the preacher, a long, powerful man, a man of strong sympathies but of rather ruthless judgment. He cannot conceive why others do not agree with him. He will not have them differ from him. And yet Mr. Gore does not rant. There is at first no suspicion of the orator. He stands most of the time with his hands by his sides. Action you think is out of the question. Mr. Gore is simply going to give an orthodox sermon. But presently he livens up. He tosses his long arms about until they look like the sails of a windmill in distress. He apparently becomes annoyed because he is not stirring up his congregation sufficiently. He speaks in [27] contemptuous terms of those who think that events that happened 2,000 years ago can have no possible interest for us in these fin de siecle days. 'What we want,' he says, quoting some of the objectors, 'is that you should preach up to date. Tell what is good for us now. What do we want to know about Christ, Who died 2,000 years ago? What we want to know is how we are to get clothing and something to eat.' He does not repel the Socialistic idea herein contained; he merely urges that belief in the teachings of Christ and the following of them up would lessen much of the misery now existing in the world. There is no question about Mr. Gore's impressiveness. As his sermon progresses he evidently determines that every sentence shall tell. He lashes, he scarifies his congregation in one breath; and in the next he is pleading earnestly in a subdued voice with them. You forgive him all his Americanisms and eccentricities of style, because the earnestness of the man is so abundantly apparent. The sermon closes suddenly. The pastor drops his voice and invites those who have decided to devote their lives to God to come up to the platform. One young girl, who has been sitting at the rear of the church, faces the ordeal, and while the congregation are singing, she kneels in a penitential fashion at the pulpit steps. Then Mr. Gore grasps her by the hand, she makes some kind of a confession of faith, a prayer is offered up, and the worshippers go home while the choir are singing a hymn. A singular service you will say, but at least an interesting one. There are potentialities about Mr. Gore which perhaps he has not realized. Quiz only regrets that the want of space at his command has compelled him to curtail a study which afforded him much intellectual enjoyment. At any rate the next man who in the presence of Quiz sneers at the Church of Christ will be afforded food for argument."

      In a later issue, after having heard nearly 60 clergymen, Quiz selects a dozen whom he considers [28] worthy to be placed in the front rank. The name of T. J. Gore is among the selected dozen, and he is chosen for his earnestness and eloquence.

      In March, 1898, T. J. Gore commenced his labours with the church at Park Street, Unley. He had spent twelve months with this church prior to the arrival of J. C. Dickson, and they had had a wonderful time together. The church was at a very low ebb at that time, but when he left to return to Grote Street the work was in a flourishing condition. Although he had now just recovered from a serious operation he put his whole heart into the work at Park Street, as he did wherever he went. Early every afternoon he would set out visiting. Monday afternoons he always visited the sick, walking miles and visiting as many as sixteen places in one afternoon. No bicycle or trap was provided for him, but when he was working for his Master he thought not of the roughness of the road; if somebody needed his help he would go no matter where. He ministered to the church at Cottonville, and had members from Park Street living at Forestville and Clarence Park and Fullarton, but nobody was ever heard to remark, "Bro. Gore has never visited me." He had a wonderful method for visiting, keeping a book with every member's name and address written up. Of a membership of over 300 he knew each one personally. He visited every home. He knew all the young people and the children in the Sunday School by name. It was his practice to visit the parents of the Sunday School scholars who were not members of the church. Some of his fellow-preachers told him that they played tennis on Monday afternoons for recreation, and asked him what he did in that way. He replied that he took his recreation on Mondays visiting the sick. He also visited at the Home for Incurables, Parkside Asylum, Adelaide Hospital and Consumptive Home. Although he worked tirelessly, he was never known to say he had a headache or to complain of feeling tired--why, he never [29] complained at all--so long as there was work to do he just went ahead and did it. The work at Unley was greatly blessed; from a small congregation of people the membership grew to over 300. Endeavour Societies, Junior and Senior, were started, and a great deal of good was accomplished through these societies. During the early part of his ministry at Unley he visited the churches in Western Australia, staying three months. Many who have moved away and perhaps are out of touch with the church say that they look back with great joy to the splendid times they had at Park Street. Sunday after Sunday men and women were won for Christ. Whole families were brought into the church, some of these being among the staunchest members of Unley church now. For fourteen years he laboured for this church. He gave them his best--he gave them his head and his hands and his feet. Although 72 years of age he was as vigorous as a young man, and could still preach without notes; he did not slacken down in the work. How truly he could say with Paul, "In labours abundant, in journeyings often, in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, besides those things which are without that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the church." During his ministry at Park Street, he enjoyed greatly the fellowship of John T. Brown, of Louisville, Ky. Mr. Brown came to Australia to conduct tent missions, and was very successful in regard to the work in Adelaide. He conducted a mission of some weeks' duration, and many were brought into the church at that time. Being fellow-Americans they enjoyed one another's company, and many were the good talks they had together. The week-night meetings at the various churches were discontinued for the duration of the mission, so T. J. Gore hardly missed a night of the mission, helping Mr. Brown as much as he could. Some three years ago Mr. Brown again visited Adelaide. On the Sunday night he spoke at Norwood, taking for his subject [30] "Ten Minutes After Death." He said he had chosen that subject because when he was in Adelaide before, after preaching that sermon, T. J. Gore had complimented him on it, and he had not forgotten those words of appreciation.

      Much could be written about the work at Unley, but if he could have been seen as he went among the people caring for them it would have been realized how closely he lived to the One he served. To have gone with him to the sick bed, to have seen how full of loving sympathy he was, would have indeed been an inspiration. To have gone with him to the poor home or the rich home--there you would have found him always interested and full of kindly consideration for others; or to the bereaved home, where often he was able to give comfort where others had failed. Week in week out, year after year, he lived his life for others, spending and being spent for his Master. A life of absolute self-forgetfulness. He not only preached the Word, but he lived the Christian life.

      In March, 1912, T. J. Gore began his ministry with the church at Henley Beach. He was 73 years of age on the 23rd of that month. It was impossible to obtain a house at Henley, so every Sunday morning quite a party from Unley (his family and friends) would set off for Henley, where the day was spent. It was necessary to drive, walk, get a bus or ride a bicycle to the train, and all these different modes of travel were tried, if not by T. J. Gore, by members of his family. It was some six weeks before a furnished house was secured. Henley Beach church was small, but what it lacked in size it made up in largeness of spirit. They had prepared a royal welcome; they could not do enough. His first work was to get hold of the church roll, find out the address of every member, and then he did not rest till he had visited everyone. Sometimes he went three times to see some before he managed to catch them at home. At last [31] he had visited every member, and knew them all personally. Then he started visiting the parents of Sunday School scholars, but he found that even then he had some spare time, and started house-to-house visitation, walking from one end of Henley to the other, and then visiting at Lockleys and Fulham. Wherever and whenever he stopped at a house and invited the people, who attended no church, to come along to the Church of Christ, they would always want him to go in and pay them a visit. On Sunday nights the little chapel at Henley was always filled with people, and many souls were won for God. It was just wonderful the way he worked. During his ministry the kindergarten hall and class-rooms were built. A tennis court was made by the members at the side of the church, and although he did not play he took a keen interest in anything connected with young people. After living three months in furnished rooms a house was secured, but about twelve months afterwards it was sold, so that meant moving again. Five young men, with the choir-master as their capable leader, volunteered to do the moving. They turned up early one evening and moved everything to the new house. There were over 1,000 books, and these one of them undertook to move in a hand-cart. It meant a good many trips backwards and forwards. The furniture was heavy, consisting of a piano and organ and other heavy things, but they made light of the work, and treated it all as a joke. Such was the spirit of the people at Henley Beach. For three and a half years he laboured with this church: it was a season of much joy. He had been preaching for fifty years in Australia, and was 76½ years old, but still it was with reluctance that he relinquished the work at Henley. The brethren had not saved up all the good things to say at his farewell, although there were many good things said then, but they had been saying them during all the years of his ministry. [32]

[TJG 24-32]