Funeral, and Notices of the Press

The following account of the funeral is taken from the columns of the Daily News:

*’ Yesterday afternoon the funeral of the Rev. Dr. Moffat took place at Norwood Cemetery, the interment being preceded by a service in the Wesleyan Chapel (of which the Rev. J. McTurk is the minister), situated opposite Tulse Hill railway station — a very large edifice, which was filled throughout with mourners and sympathisers. The friends of the family met, as previously arranged, at the house of Mr. Evan Spicer, Upper Lawn, Tulse Hill, whither the body had been conveyed from Brixton. It had found a resting-place the previous night in the house of Mr. Henry Vavasseur. The funeral procession left at two o’clock, being joined by deputations from various societies, and by many other persons. The centre of the chapel was reserved for immediate friends of the deceased and the deputations, the chief mourners being in front. At the entrance of the chancel, where the coffin remained during the service, were three large African palm-trees and several smaller ones, symbolizing, as it were, the scene of Dr. Moffat’s half-a-century’s missionary labours. As the procession entered the chapel the organ played Mendelssohn’s O rest in the Lord,’ and the scene was deeply impressive. The service in the chapel was performed by the Rev. J. C. Harrison, Congregational minister, Camden-town, and the Rev. Dr. McEwan, Presbyterian minister, Clapham. It commenced with the hymn beginning ‘How sweet the name of Jesus sounds.’ This was followed by the reading by Dr. McEwan of selections from the Holy Scriptures, including part of the 15th chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, and the reverend gentleman offered up an appropriate prayer. — The Rev. J. C. Harrison delivered an address, in which he took a comprehensive survey of the life, character, and labours of Dr. Moffat. After speaking of ’ entireness of consecration ’ as one great feature that marked his missionary career and made him king amongst men,’ and also of the ’ personal fascination ’ which produced such wonderful effects upon the heathen, he dwelt upon Dr. Moffat’s ’ perfect disinterestedness,’ illustrated by the fact that so long as he had just enough to sustain

him he seemed never to covet anything more; his wonderful

2S7

288 ADDRESS BY THE REV. /. G, ROGERS.

catholicity, which made him love all good men and rejoice in every good and great work, there being no littleness or bitterness seen in him, though he had indomitable firmness when the gospel was in question; his guileless simplicity, combined with abundant shrewdness and a great deal of mother wit; and his astonishing faith in the power of the gospel — a faith which gave wonderful beauty and consistency to his whole character. In concluding his brief sketch, the speaker read a letter written by the subject of it only fourteen days before his death, which he characterized as ’ breathing the old loyalty to the London Missionary Society,’ and expressed an earnest hope that some of the young men who were present would endeavour to imitate his Christian heroism and be inspired by his earnest missionary spirit. The rev. gentleman concluded the service with the benediction. While the organ was playing the * Dead March,’ the coffin was again carried to the hearse — an open one — which was waiting outside, its destination being Norwood Cemetery, and the intervening distance about half a mile. The number of carriages forming a funeral cortlge and conveying the family and immediate friends and the deputations was about twenty-five, besides which there were several private carriages. At the grave, which is about a hundred yards from the cemetery chapel, there was a very large public gathering long before the hour of interment, and it was with some difficulty that adequate space could be kept for the chief mourners and others who arrived in carriages. In the grave was seen the coffin of the deceased’s wife — the figures ’ 1871,’ visible on the lid, indicating the period of her burial. The inscription on Dr. Moffat’s coffin, which rests on that of his wife, is as follows: ‘Robert Moffat, born 21st of December, 1795, died 9th of August, 1883.’ The final service having opened with the singing of the hymn commencing ‘How blest the righteous when he dies,’ the Rev. R. Robinson (Secretary of the London Missionary Society) read part of the Burial Service of the Church of England. The Rev. J. G. Rogers delivered an address, in which he pronounced a eulogium on the deceased similar to that of Mr. Harrison in the chapel, and also on the late Mrs. Moffat, whom he described as having sympathized in all Dr. Moffat’s cares, and entered into all his hopes, his sorrows, his vicissitudes, his troubles, and his fears, and who, he added, was a true-hearted and noble-minded woman, a grand example to the wives of missionaries, as Robert Moffat was a grand example to missionaries themselves; so true, so noble, so courageous, so heroic, was that great apostle of South Africa. The Rev. Dr. Kennedy afterwards offered prayer, and closed the proceedings with the benediction.”

The expenses of the funeral were undertaken by the Directors of the London Missionary Society, who thus gracefully crowned the long period of affectionate connection which had been maintained with unbroken constancy on both sides.

It is difficult to select from the many kind words which were spoken at the time, but it would be impossible to do more than to give one or two citations from the columns of the press. On

COMMENT OF THE TIMES.” 2S9

the day after the funeral a leader appeared in The Times from which the following is an extract:

“Dr. Robert Moffat, who was yesterday laid in the grave, has left an abiding name as a pioneer of modern missionary work in South Africa. He was born in 1795, a year memorable as that of the foundation of the London Missionary Society, and in 1816 he entered on his career in South Africa as one of the Society’s missionaries. He left that country finally in 1870. During that long interval the dark continent was attacked and explored in all directions. Scientific travellers and missionary travellers were busy pushing their way into regions to which Moffat had never penetrated. It is Moffat’s honour to have been among the first in the field, to have laid, as it were, the stepping-stones by which his successors have been able to outstrip him; to have borne the burden and heat of the day in early missionary work, and at once to have given an example of devotion to his noble cause and to have furnished proof that the ground was not barren, and that even in South Africa the good seed might be trusted to spring up and to bring forth abundant fruit.

“It is the fashion in some quarters to scoff at missionaries, to receive their reports with incredulity, to look at them at best as no more than harmless enthusiasts, proper subjects for pity, if not for ridicule. The records of missionary work in South Africa must be a blank page to those by whom such ideas are entertained. We owe it to our missionaries that the whole region has been opened up. Apart from their special service as preachers, they have done important work as pioneers of civilization, as geographers, as contributors to philological research. Of those who have taken part in this, Moffat’s name is not the best known. Moffat, it may be said, has laboured, and other men have entered into his labour. Livingstone has come after him, and has gone bej’ond him, and has linked his memory for ever with the records of the South African Church. Speke and Stanley have become household names where Moffat has been unknown or has been forgotten. In his own simple words, it never occurred to him, while working among the Bechwanas, that he should obtain the applause of men. His one care was for those among whom he had cast his lot. He was an enthusiast, of course — a man would be worth little for missionary enterprise if he were not this at all events. But he was an enthusiast with a clear sense of the right means to employ for the accomplishment of his unselfish tasl<< He had a message to deliver of love and of peace, and he must prepare men to receive it by instructing them in the arts of peace. The progress of South Africa has been mainly due to men of Moffat’s stamp. In him, as in David Livingstone, it is hard to say which character has predominated, that of the missionary proper or that of the teacher and guide. Certain it is that apart from the special stimulus they felt as proclaimers of the gospel message, they would never have thrown themselves as they did into the work to which their lives were consecrated. It was by no zeal for the spread of civilization on its own account that they passed weary years labouring and teaching among savage tribes, amid dangers of every kind, amid privations of which they themselves made light, but which only a sense of their high spiritual mission could have prompted them to face and undergo. One part of Moffat’s work has been to prepare the way for others. He has given, so far, what promises to be a lasting stimulus. It is another question whether his own work will endure. He welcomed the annexation of the Transvaal by this country as the commencement of an era of blessing for South Africa. He saw in this the only possible guarantee for the safety of the Bechwanas from the greed and tyranny of the Boers. He has lived to see the Transvaal handed back, freed from English control, and sending forth once again the old swarms of adventurers to rob and plunder in Bechwanaland, bidding fair to undo his work, and to force the entire region back again into sheer barbarism. It would seem, indeed, that it is only by the agency of such men as Moffat and his like that the contact of the white and black races can be anything but a curse to the blacks. Even the arts of civilization are of little avail by themselves. In some parts of the world their chief result has been to furnish the savage with means of enjoyment which have proved fatal to him. In others, the black man has been looked upon as fair prey. He has been forced into contact with a race superior to his own, not that he may learn from them, but that he may serve them; not that he may be raised to their level, but that he may be brought down to something even lower than before. It is the missionary alone who seeks nothing for himself He has chosen an unselfish life. If honour comes to him, it is by no choice of his own, but as the unsought

tribute which others, as it were, force upon him. Robert Moffat has died in the fulness both of years and of honours. His work has been to lay the foundations of the Church in the central regions of South Africa. As far as his influence and that of his coadjutors and successors has extended, it has brought with it unmixed good. His name will be remembered while the South African Church endures, and his example will remain with us as a stimulus to others and as an abiding proof of what a Christian missionary can be and can do.”

Among Robert Moffat’s many friends may be reckoned the Rev. William Guest, formerly of Gravesend, and his wife. The latter especially had been instrumental in rendering a service to one member of the family which had greatly cheered and comforted the aged missionary, who was not without his cares. It has been truly said of him by Mr. Guest, that “he never forgot a kind attention. Nothing in him was more marked than his affectionateness of gratitude.” He had taken a very warm interest in Mr. Guest’s efforts in connection with the establishment of the ]Iilton Mount School. During the spring of 18S2 Mr. and Mrs. Guest spent a day or two with their old friend at Park Cottage, which was a season of enjoyment to all concerned.

NOTICE IN “THE NONCONFORMIST.” 291

They were subsequently amongst his latest visitors. Mr. Guest thus refers to that occasion in the obituary notice which appeared in the Nonconformist a?id Independent of August 16, 1883: —

“‘Three weeks ago it seemed to me due to go over to Leigh to pay a mark of respect to the veteran missionary. His natural gracefulness seemed rather heightened than diminished under very obvious physical weakness. On quoting to him the thought of the aged Whittier, on the Quaker poet’s birthday —

“Before me, even as behind,
God is, and all is well I”

he replied that his thoughts recently had been much occupied with the three words, “That blessed hope.” With those old tones of musical cadence and pathos, he repeated and emphasized the epithet “blessed “as applied to the vision of the Saviour; and he seemed anxious to assure me that it was not only to” the glorious appearing” of the Lord Jesus that his prevailing thoughts adverted, but to his own approaching introduction to Him. It was a beautiful attitude for the spent servant — the long life-work finished — to think chiefly of seeing the dear Master who had graciously appointed, and sustained him in the service.’”

The Editor is glad to be able to put before the readers of this book a letter from the Rev. Hugh Collum, vicar of Leigh, which will be interesting for many reasons. It brings out well the fact that Robert Moffat was not so much in sympathy with any particular branch of the Christian Church, as with all good men in that Church. He had his own views, and he held them tenaciously, but his mind dwelt on a different plane from that of ecclesiastical discussion. Exception must be taken to one remark, and then this work, which has been a labour of love, is done. Mr. Collum says, “He had no love for the Boers.” This may go for more than it really means. Among the Dutch in South Africa there were many with whom Robert and Mary Moffat had kept up an affectionate friendship. They often spoke with almost reverential regard of the high Christian character of some of these. Bitterly as their hearts were grieved at the sorrows of the natives, and the lawless and oppressive acts of which the more turbulent emigrant farmers were guilty, the IMoffats never withdrew from them the Christian charity which we are enjoined to accord even to those who have wronged us. They never measured words in condemning their unjust and cruel conduct but they would have been the first to try and win them over if conciliation had been found possible.

It was in the year 1880 that I first made the acquaintance of Dr. Moffat. It was impossible to look into his face, beaming with intelligence and benevolence, still less engage in conversation with him, without being fully persuaded that you were in the presence of a man far above the average. There was something about his whole appearance — so massive and masculine, yet so gentle and yielding; so venerable and dignified, yet so simple and winning; so thoughtful and serious, yet so full of humour and playfulness — which completely captivated the imagination. His conversation was easy, natural, unaffected, without reserve or self consciousness — the outcome of a beautiful, grave, and transparent soul — betraying a wide knowledge of men and things, an intimate acquaintance with human nature and human life in all their complex variety; a combination which to me was of infinite charm.

*’ I always esteemed it a great privilege, a rare treat, an intellectual and moral feast of fat things, to have an hour’s chat with my ever-tobe-regretted venerable friend. I invariably felt that I came away after my visit a better and a wiser man. I carried away with me a higher estimate of our common humanity. In studying such a man I realized, to an extent which I had seldom done before, that there are infinite possibilities in human nature, when unspoiled and unsoiled and suffered to develop itself, without ‘let or hindrance,’ beneath the genial, fostering influences of the Divine Spirit.

“Some men of inferior mould in Dr. Moffat’s position, courted by the great and good, would have completely lost their balance — they would have been spoiled by human admiration and applause. ‘The smoothness of flattery,’ that tendency to hero worship which is a characteristic of our day, would have marred and corrupted a character built up of feebler fibre.

“Happily for himself. Dr. Moffat combined the well-balanced mind of a Christian philosopher with the attractive docility and simplicity of a child. He was a living example of the teaching of our Divine Master, ‘Ye must become as little children before ye can enter the kingdom of heaven.’ In my intercourse with him I was often struck by the spontaneous expression of his profound reverence for Almighty God; his deep and sincere attachment to the Person of our Lord Jesus Christ, and his unbounded admiration for and belief in the Divine authority and regenerative influence of the Holy Scriptures. In an age in which it is confidently alleged that ’ we are apparently becoming less religious,’ when the supernatural is being discarded by some eminent men of science for the natural, when the creed of Christendom is being emasculated by agnosticism. Dr. Moffat’s faith remained unshaken, undriven about by the shifting winds and currents of modern doctrine. At the same time, he was fully capable of, and enjoyed, entering into the discussion of those deep problems which are exercising the thought and intelligence of some of the master minds of our age. He also approached with deep interest the consideration of political and social questions. The critical and revolutionary state of Ireland engaged his attention. He had a strong conviction that the ills of Ireland were largely due, not merely to past misgovernment and maladministration of her affairs, or differences of race, but also to the pernicious influence of the predominant Roman Catholic religion, which is a thorn in the side of every independent and Protestant government. But the question which pre-eminently interested him was the condition of the native population of South Africa. He was strongly of opinion that there had been grievous mistakes of policy and administration. He had no love for the Boers; while he had the utmost sympathy for Cetewayo, whom he looked upon as an ill-used and unjustly-treated man.

“We often had friendly discussions and arguments on religious questions. He was, it is needless to say, a staunch but liberal-minded Nonconformist. I was often intensely amused at his quaint, original, and humorous way of looking at Church matters. He evidently thought that, in the case of the venerable Church of England, the primitive purity and simplicity of the faith had been marred and materialized by contact with social forces, and hampered by State alliance. It was a perplexity with him to reconcile the titles, rank, incomes, and mode of living of ’ the dignitaries of the Church ’ with the self-denying, hard-faring lives of the apostles and pioneers of the faith — ’ the servant,’ in his judgment, ’ not being greater than his Master.”

“Even the most bigoted and narrow-minded Churchman, however, could not take offence at Dr. Moffat’s friendly and not unnatural criticisms of our system, services, and ceremonial, which to him must have seemed somewhat strange. They were offered, from an independent and by no means unsympathetic standpoint, with the utmost candour and bonhomie. To my mind they were rather refreshing and stimulating, and I enjoyed listening to what could be said ’ on the other side of the question ’ by one whom I so greatly admired and esteemed.

“But if the good Doctor did not on occasion scruple to point out what to him appeared the defects of the Church, even while freely acknowledging the good work she was doing, he was by no means blind to the imperfections of Nonconformity. As a large-minded and large-hearted man, who had seen much of the world, who had been brought face to face with the degradations of heathenism and of bastard forms of Christianity, he had no sympathy with what was narrow, bitter, sectarian, or intolerant, whether it were found within the Church, or in systems outside her pale. If I mistake not. Nonconformity no less than ecclesiasticism had its own peculiar puzzles for him. He never attempted to justify or palliate those too numerous and grievous divisions which marred the symmetry, broke the unity, and weakened the influence for good of the Church of Christ in its increasingly hard struggles with ’ the powers of darkness; ’ and in his generous heart he longed for the reunion, in the one true faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, of a divided and distracted Christendom, thus realizing the devout aspiration of the Founder of our faith, ’ that they all may be one.’

“He was always most ready to take part in any village gatherings — turning out of his home on dark and cold winter evenings. He attended many of our schoolroom lectures, and was ever willing, when requested, to say ’ a word in season.’ He highly approved of our Penny Readings, and thoroughly appreciated the musical selections, readings, and recitations.

“At the annual meeting of the British and Foreign Bible Society in our schoolroom, we always looked for his welcome presence, and I do not think we ever looked for it in vain. He seemed to take a special pleasure and interest in these gatherings — when Christians of all denominations could meet on a common platform in support of a common cause. He was wont to say, ‘I have two masters: the London Missionary Society, and the British and Foreign Bible Society,’ and they both commanded his allegiance and affection. More than once he publicly referred to his arduous undertaking of translating the Scriptures into the Bechwana tongue. He had first to give shape and grammatical structure to a language which had never been reduced to writing, before he could proceed with the work of translating. This, I think, he regarded as his fnagmim opus, and it left its abiding mark on him in the shape of sleeplessness and other evidences of an overtaxed brain. On these occasions it was most touching to see him passing his hand apologetically over his deeply-furrowed brow, whilst labouring to recall some particular episode or passage in his varied African experience.

•’ Looking back upon the residence of Dr. Moffat in this parish, I can say, without fear of contradiction, that it was an unspeakable blessing to the place and neighbourhood. ‘We ne’er shall look upon his like again.’ His influence was eminently Christian and genial. He lived so simply, and sought so thoroughly to identify himself with the interests of his neighbours of all classes, and to harmonize his life with the circumstances in which he found himself. Everybody in the parish appreciated and esteemed him — from the philanthropic squire down to the humblest villager and school-child. We all came to look upon him as one of ourselves. We miss, beyond expression, his familiar and venerable form going in and out among us; but his memory abideth green, and will long survive.”

The writer of the following letter has done a kindness, not only to the Editor, but to all those who are likely to be readers of this book, in the loving testimony he bears to the kind of influence exerted by Robert Moffat over the minds of his fellow-men during the space of two generations.

“Clapham Common, May 20. “My dear Mr. Moffat, — My recollections of your honoured father extend a long way back. They are but slight, and I am afraid you may find them rather disappointing. It was in the year of his first visit to England that I first saw and heard him. But even then I learned to honour and love him. I was a mere lad at the time, and had gone to Liverpool to enjoy the missionary services. The annual meeting was held in Great George Street Chapel, which was crowded by a deeply interested congregation, who, however, had come together for the purpose of hearing other missionaries, and had no idea of the extraordinary surprise that was in store for them. Your father had unexpectedly come to the town, and was asked to speak. From the first word of his address he kept the audience in a state of intense excitement and delight. His touching simplicity, his loving spirit, and his unaffected modesty, impressed the assembly almost as much as the wonderful story he had to recite. That speech made his reputation with the English public. It was the speech of an apostle, and he himself looked the apostle. A night or two afterwards he came to the little church of which my father was minister, and his coming was an excitement even in the sleepy little town where the church was. My happiest remembrances of him, however, are in the home where his visit was long remembered as a bright and joyous event.

*’ In my pastorate at Ashton-under-Lyne I was brought into contact with memories of your mother. She was one of the first members of the church at that place, which was founded under circumstances of difficulty which severely taxed the faith and patience of those who had entered upon an undertaking which at first seemed to have but little promise. It was owing, in truth, to the zeal and devotion of a very few that the foundation was laid of a church which has long been one of the most influential in the county of Lancaster. Among these your grandfather and your mother were conspicuous, and her name was fragrant in the memories of some of the older members even when I was the pastor.

“Of course, after coming to London I often met your father; but one interview in particular remains fresh in my recollection. I had the honour to be one of a deputation sent by the Congregational Board to congratulate him on his eightieth birthday. He received us with all that native grace and dignity which were characteristic of him, and the spectacle of the venerable patriarch was one not easily to be forgotten. It was his reply, however, to our address which most impressed me. I have often quoted it as a striking example of the modesty of true greatness, and of the way in which the noblest worker hides himself behind his work. ‘I never,’ he said, in those tender and plaintive notes of his that were so familiar to all, * I never thought when I was working in South Africa to see a day like this. I simply did the work of the day in the day, and never thought that any one in England would think of me or it.’ It was a genuine self-revelation, in which was to be found the secret of his power and success. Because he thought so little of himself, all his friends and brethren thought much of him. I cannot suppose that any one ever said an unkind word of Robert Moffat. While he was here he was cherished in the love of all of us, and now that he has passed away his life-work is a sanctified and inspiring memory.” Believe me, yours very faithfully,

“J. Guinness Rogers.”

Mr. Chesson’s indefatigable efforts on behalf of the Aborigines inspired Robert Moffat’s sympathy and admiration, and they frequently met to plead the cause of those whose interests they both had so much at heart. Mr. Chesson has kindly furnished me with some particulars of several of these occasions, of which the following is one: —

2q6 letter from MR. CHESS ON.

“One of my most interesting recollections of Dr. Moffat has reference to the occasion on which the committee of the Aborigines Protection Society presented a congratulatory address to Sir Bartle Frere on his appointment as Governor of the Cape Colony. This was in February, 1877. It is worthy of remark that both the deputation and the new Governor approached the native question from the same point of view; for Sir Bartle Frere told his visitors that ’ he should be exceedingly glad if he were allowed during what remained to him of official life to carry into effect the principles of entire justice to every class, race, creed, and colour.’ Dr. Moffat was greatly disappointed when he found that the new policy in South Africa involved the military conquest of the Zulus and the compulsory disarmament of the native tribes. He signed the protest against the Zulu war, which a large number of influential persons addressed to Sir Michael Hicks Beach, the Colonial Secretary, in the spring of 1879. Early in the following year he wrote a letter to me in which he put the disarmament question in a striking light. ‘There are some things,’ he said, ’ in the British Government which must appear to the native mind extremely perplexing. That Government allows its merchants in town and country to sell firearms to the native tribes to any amount, and gives licenses to traders to go far and near to sell and barter with firearms, and by which many have made ample fortunes and added to the revenues of the colony. By and by John Bull prepares a proclamation, and it goes forth that all those over whom he has power are to be disarmed, that is, deprived of the property for which they have honourably, and in some cases enormously, paid. Surely if our beloved Queen knew all these things she would not, on any account, give her consent.’ His views as to the native policy of the Boers in the Transvaal, and as to the duty of the Imperial Government to secure adequate protection to the loyal tribes within and near the borders of that country were equally emphatic. I well remember the speech he made on this subject at the residence of Mr. W. H. James, M.P., when, on Lord Shaftesbury’s invitation, he gave, from personal knowledge, a vivid description of the cruel and oppressive treatment which the natives had received at the hands of the Boers during his long residence in South Africa.

“A yet more important occasion was the dinner which Lord Mayor McArthur gave to Dr. Moffat in the Egyptian Hall on May 7, 1881. It was in some respects one of the most remarkable meetings of the kind ever held in the City of London. Certainly so varied and so influential a representation of the religious and philanthropic world was never before brought together to do honour to a Christian missionary. An eminent Wesleyan layman (now Sir William McArthur) occupied the chief magistrate’s chair. The guest of the evening sat between the Lord Mayor and Lord Shaftesbury, and his other near neighbours were Sir Fowell Buxton and the Bishop of Sodor and Man. The Archbishop of Canterbury — the lamented Dr. Tait — sat side by side with the Rev. E. E. Jenkins, President of the Wesleyan Conference. Lord Nelson, whose High Church proclivities are well known, fraternized with Mr. Joseph Hoare, a distinguished Evangelical layman. The Rev. Malcolm Macoll elbowed a converted Turk, and very appropriately that estimable member of the Society of Friends, Samuel Gurney, sat next to Mr. Chase, the chief of the Ojebways. The speeches were far above the average on such occasions. In proposing the toast of the Royal Family, the Lord Mayor dwelt on the interest which the Prince Consort took in the exploration of Africa, as shown by his having presided at the Niger meeting in 1840, when Livingstone (Dr. Moffat’s son-in-law) was one of the audience. The speech of the evening was made by Archbishop Tait. Thanking the Lord Mayor for having brought such a unique assemblage together, he remarked that while it was common to recognize in this great city commercial industry and exertion, it was not so common to remember that far better than the defence of armies or navies, far better than the influence of commerce, is the power of that gospel which the missionaries make it the business of their lives to extend. He said he did not know anything more instructive than the fact that the representatives of so many missionary societies were able thus peacefully to assemble on a common platform. They were all determined to spread the gospel, and he thought that perhaps the best mode by which they could hope to arrive at one opinion at last was by each one of them resolutely and conscientiously disseminating his own views. His allusions to Dr. Moffat were full of good feeling. In paying a warm tribute to Dr. Moffat’s mission-station as a centre of light, he said: ‘Amid all the changes of life, and amidst all the varieties of opinion there is a reverence for old age, and for old and tried servants of the Lord Jesus Christ which makes us all feel as brethren in the presence of an old and devoted servant of the Lord.’ The Archbishop thus struck the true key-note of the meeting. Canon Farrar spoke in the same spirit. While,’ he said, ‘the Archbishop was speaking I was reminded of the remark which Lord Macaulay made on his return from India. He said that he had been living so long in a country where the people worshipped cows that he was unable to attach any deep importance to the minor questions which separate Christians.’ Dr. Allon gave expression to a similar sentiment when he remarked, that in the presence of a noble work like that of Dr. Moffat, ‘sectarianism is dumb.’ ‘The venerable father of the missionary world,’ as Mr. Alderman Fowler called him, was doubly honoured on this occasion — he was honoured not only by the compliment which the Lord Mayor paid him by the banquet he gave in his honour at the Mansion House, but also by the noble and appreciative spirit which pervaded the entire proceedings,

“I could repeat many other interesting facts connected with my venerated friend, but I have probably said enough for the special object which has called forth this letter.

“Believe me, very faithfully yours,

“F. W. Chesson.”

The following communication from the Rev. R. Robinson, so long the Home Secretary of the London Missionary Society, will appropriately close this Memoir. He represents the past generation of directors and officials who conducted the affairs of the Society in the days of Robert Moffat’s activity; and those who know his many acts of goodwill will be best able to appreciate the genuineness of the strong regard expressed in this letter:

“7, Manor Road, Brockley, S.E.,

“March 24, 1885.

“My dear Mr. Moffat, — With much diffidence, yet with very sincere pleasure, I hasten to respond to your earnest request for some personal reminiscences of your late venerated father, whom I have known so long and revered so much, and with whom of late years I have had frequent opportunities of close and affectionate intercourse, and have also received from him many most interesting letters, both short and long.

“To me he has always appeared the very ideal of a true missionary, and my heart was stirred to its lowest depths when, as a young minister, I listened to his moving appeals addressed to crowded audiences during his visit to this country on his first and only furlough, more than forty-five years ago; and now that in later times I have been brought into closer contact, I have felt constrained to regard him as one of our moral heroes and spiritual princes — a man, indeed, ‘after God’s own heart.’ His vital godliness, his evident love to the Lord Jesus, his firm faith in the gospel, seemed to me to be as distinct and distinguishing as were his features, making him, everywhere and in every company, a marked man.

“When Dr. Moffat returned to this country in 1870, as his old friend Dr. Tidman had passed away, it was my official duty and personal privilege to pay him an early visit, to see what might be required to be done for the furtherance of the comfort of himself and his loved ones; and I was then more than surprised at the Christian simplicity and self-negation both of himself and his devoted wife, for they seemed more than content with anything and everything that was arranged for them; and truly it was evident that in Mrs. Moffat he had been singularly blessed with a noble and devoted wife, who was indeed a missionary secotid only to luviselfJ

“I shall never forget what took place in my official room at the Mission House soon after their return from Africa. While talking over their past labours, Mrs. M., looking fondly at her husband first, turned to me and said, ‘Robert can never say that / hindered him in his work!” No, indeed,’ replied Dr. M.; ’ but I can tell you she has often sent me away from house and home for months together for evangelizing purposes, and in my absence has managed the station as well or better than I could have done it myself 1 ’

“No wonder that when I went to see him the morning after this dear one was called home, I should find him heart-sore and bowed down with sorrow by his somewhat sudden bereavement. He told me that on the previous evening, finding there seemed to be an unusual silence, he went to the bedside, and, looking at the invalid, in alarm he exclaimed, ‘Mary, dear, only one wordl’ But silence was the only response, for the Master had come and called hef

*’ FAITHFUL UNTO DEATHS 299

And thus,’ said Moffat, with touching pathos, ’ she left me, after labouring lovingly together for fifty years, without saying good-bye! ‘But noiu he has joined her, and together they continue the higher service in the Master’s more immediate presence, where work and weariness are no longer united.

“I have often been profoundly impressed with Dr. Moffat’s evident natural boldness in relation to the cause and kingdom of his Divine Lord. He was a man who, having planted himself on a principle, would stay there till he died! When receiving civic honour at the Mansion House, London, on being introduced as one familiar with the African diamond fields, he responded, in the midst of the assembled traders, merchants, and civic dignitaries, that he could tell them little about the diamond fields, or the diamonds there, for he had gone to Africa to seek jewels of a very different character, namely the natives, in order that they might be made as gems to adorn the Saviour’s crown!

“I have also had many opportunities of marking his complete disinterestedness in the service of Christ. There was nothing sordid about him; he had no desire to accumulate money, and ever showed a scrupulous anxiety to take for himself as little as possible out of the funds of the Society. And when I found him resolutely refusing any longer to draw his small stipend, I reminded him that our books showed a certain amount of arrears now due to him. He then in the strongest manner assured me that he would not receive a penny of it! and could not be satisfied until he saw that the books were cleared of this amount!

“I might adduce many other personal recollections of this now glorified saint, but the foregoing must suffice for the purpose. I will only add that I know well how truly the Directors loved him, and would have done anything in their power to add to his comfort. The Society was greatly honoured by his connection with it, and to it he remained ’ faithful unto death; ’ so that his memory will ever be cherished as a precious ointment by the whole missionary circle, standing, as he does, as an example and an inspiration to the young men of our homes and colleges, which may well lead many of them to an entire and blessed consecration to the work of the Lord 1

“For myself I will only say that I revered him as an honoured father, and felt it to be a precious privilege to read the burial service at his grave, where we left his mortal remains, gladdened by the thought that though the body was thus returned to the earth, the spirit had gone to the God who gave it, to be re-united with the loved ones gone before, that together they might glorify Him to whom they consecrated their lives, realizing that //^had loved them, and given Himself for them. — Believe me, dear Mr. Moffat, yours truly,

“Robert Robinson,

“Late Home Secretary of the L.M.S.”