Chapter 10

CLOSING SCENES.

In the Chronicle of the London Missionary Society for March, 1870, the following notice appeared: "Our readers will be glad to hear that there is now a definite prospect of welcoming again to England our veteran missionary, the Rev. Robert Moffat. He may be expected, with Mrs. Moffat, about the month of June. Mr. Moffat no longer enjoys his former robust health. In his last letter he writes: 'What to me was formerly a molehill is now a mountain, and we both have for some time past begun to feel some of the labour and sorrow so frequently experienced by those who have passed their three-score years and ten.'"

The _Norseman_ reached Plymouth on the 24th of July, and next day Robert and Mary Moffat landed at Southampton, thus returning to their native land, to leave it no more, after an absence of over fifty years; during which time they had visited it only once before.

On the 1st of August he was welcomed by the Society, at an influential meeting, convened for the purpose, in the Board Room of the Mission House, in Blomfield Street. At that meeting, alluding to his previous visit in 1839, and to the printing of the New Testament in Sechwana, he stated as follows:--

"When I came to the Cape, previous to my first visit, I brought a translation of the New Testament, which I had translated under considerable difficulties, being engaged a portion of the day in roofing an immense church, and the remainder in exegetical examinations and consulting concordances. I was anxious to get it printed, and I brought it down to the Cape, but there I could find no printing-office that would undertake it. The Committee of the Bible Society very kindly--as they have always been to me, I say it with pleasure--forwarded paper and ink to the Cape expecting I should get the work done there. As I said, there was not a printing-office that would undertake it. Dining with Sir George Napier, the Governor, I informed him of the difficulty. He said, 'Jump on board a ship with your translation and get it printed in England, and you will be back again while they are thinking about it here. Print a New Testament among a set of Dutch printers! why I can't even get my proclamations printed.' I said, 'I have become too barbarous; I have almost forgotten my own language; I should be frightened to go there.' 'Oh stuff!' he said.

"Some time after he met me in the street: 'Well, Moffat, what have you determined upon?' 'I am waiting the return of Dr. Philip.' 'Don't wait for anybody; just jump on board a ship. Think of the importance of getting the New Testament put in print in a new language!' He invited me to dinner again and said, 'Have you come to a conclusion? I wish I could give you mine. I feel some interest in the extension of the knowledge of the Word of God. Take nobody's advice, but jump on board a ship for England.' He spoke so seriously that I began to feel serious myself.

"Dr. Philip came, and when the Governor explained the circumstances, the Doctor said, 'Go, by all means.' I was nervous at the thought. I was not a nervous man in Africa. I could sleep and hear the lions roar. There seemed so many great folks to meet with. I came to England and by-and-by I got over it."

On the Wednesday, following this meeting, he was entertained at a public breakfast at the Cannon Street Hotel.

For a few weeks the Moffats dwelt at Canonbury, though Robert himself was so much engaged in visiting different parts of the country, Edinburgh included, where he met with many old friends, that he was not suffered at this time to dwell for long in any one place.

The winter was spent at Brixton, and on the 21st of December, £1000 was presented to Robert Moffat as a birthday gift, a most cheering tribute of esteem to a tried and faithful servant of Jesus Christ.

The effects of this act of kindness had not passed away when a heavy cloud hung over the happy home at Brixton. She, who for more than half-a-century had been the loving helpmeet of the African missionary, sharing his joys and sorrows, his hopes and discouragements, and many of his privations and perils, lay dying. A troublesome cough, a difficulty of breathing, a few long deep breaths, and she was gone, without even a word of farewell; called home to receive the "Well done, good and faithful servant," and to enter into the joy of her Lord. Her last words were a prayer for her husband, that strength might be given him to bear the blow.

Robert Moffat indeed needed strength in this hour of affliction. His first exclamation on finding that she had really gone was, "For fifty-three years I have had her to pray for me," and writing to his old friend and fellow-labourer, Roger Edwards, who was then at Port Elizabeth, he said, "How lonely I feel, and if it were not for Jeanie (his daughter) it would be much more so."

The events of the next few years may be briefly summarised. He travelled much to different parts of the country, visiting High Leigh, the old house at Dukinfield, and Carronshore. His services were continually in requisition for missionary meetings, and doubtless many of our readers will be old enough to remember the bronzed face, with its full flowing beard, blanched by age, the keen eyes, and the venerable form of Robert Moffat at this time, and to call to mind the pleasure they derived as they listened to his glowing descriptions of the needs of Africa.

The winter of 1871 was passed at Ventnor, in the Isle of Wight, and occupied in revising proof sheets of the Old Testament in Sechwana. While there he was, by Her Majesty's own desire, introduced to the Queen, whom he had never seen before. He also received the degree of Doctor of Divinity, from the University of Edinburgh.

To meet the need for training a native ministry, which had been felt by Moffat and others engaged in the work of the Bechwana Mission, and which had shortly before his return been pressed upon the attention of the Directors, several thousand pounds were subscribed, and, as a way of doing honour to the veteran who was now in their midst, it was proposed to call the Institute that was to be founded, "The Moffat Institute." This now stands as a centre of influence amidst the tribes surrounding the Kuruman station.

In 1873, a number of friends, who thought that the liberal contributions which had been subscribed to the Institute, hardly gave such a direct proof of their esteem for their venerated friend as could be desired, presented Robert Moffat with a sum of upwards of £5000. This liberality provided for his wants during the remainder of his life, enabled him to serve the Directors and the cause of missions, without being any longer a burden upon the funds of the Society, and also placed him in a position to meet the wants of his widowed daughter and her fatherless family.

While living at Brixton, Robert Moffat attended the ministry of the late Rev. Baldwin Brown, in whose mission-work in Lambeth he was much interested. On his eightieth birthday, 21st December, 1875, he opened the new Mission Hall in connection with this work, which hall was thenceforward called by his name. On the same day he received many congratulatory tokens, among them being an address signed by a great number of Congregational ministers from every part of the country. Prior to this in the same year, he had lectured upon Missions in Westminster Abbey, and in the preceding year he had performed the melancholy duty of identifying the remains of his son-in-law, Dr. Livingstone, upon their being brought home from Africa.

Engagements and constant requests for his services made great inroads upon his time. "People either could not or would not see that he was getting old," he frequently said; but people knew that as long as he had strength to speak, he would not grow weary of addressing audiences on missionary work.

In 1876, we find him dining on one occasion with the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth Palace, and on another breakfasting with Mr. Gladstone, in the house of the Rev. Newman Hall. In the following year by invitation of the French Missionary Society he visited Paris, and while there addressed a meeting of 4000 Sunday-school children.

On the 20th of December, 1878, he received the freedom of the City of London, and somewhat over two years later was the guest of the then Lord Mayor, Alderman, now Sir William, McArthur, for several days, a banquet being given in his honour.

During the time that Cetewayo was in England Robert Moffat was much interested in him and paid him a visit. Among the Zulu king's attendants was a man who could speak Sechwana, and with him Moffat at once got into conversation. The man's delight was unbounded. He had been in the train of a son of Moselekatse, and had heard of the missionary. "A u Moshete?" (Are you Moffat) he asked again and again, with beaming eyes exclaiming when convinced of the fact, "I see this day what my eyes never expected to behold, Moshete!"

For the last four years of his life Robert Moffat resided at Park Cottage, Leigh, near Tunbridge, where he was the tenant of the late Samuel Morley, Esq. From both Mr. and Mrs. Morley he received much kindness, which continued until the day of his death.

The end now drew near. In 1883, he complained of great weariness and intermittent pulsation. This troubled him so constantly that advice was sought. For a short time this availed. He attended the Bible Society's meeting in the second week in May, and the meeting of the London Missionary Society on the 10th, and in July paid a visit to Knockholt, where he met Mr. and Mrs. George Sturge. From this visit he returned seeming better, but in a few days unfavourable symptoms again showed themselves. Yet the strong frame, that had endured so much, seemed loath to give in, and, whenever able, he was in and out of his garden. He also took two drives, Mrs. Morley very kindly sending her carriage for that purpose when he felt able to make use of it.

"Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace." Most beautifully was this truth exemplified in the closing scenes of the life of this truly noble and good man. On Sunday, 5th August, he was too weak to attend chapel, and spent a peaceful Sabbath at home. He was very fond of hymns and would often repeat one after another. In the evening he chose several which were sung, though feebleness prevented him from joining the singing. Among those chosen were: "The sands of time are sinking," "Come, Thou fount of every blessing," "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds," and "Nearer, my God, to Thee." His New Testament was his constant companion during these last days, and whatever the topic of conversation, it always turned with him to heaven and the Saviour.

On Monday he seemed somewhat better, but on Tuesday night he was much worse. Hours of pain and sleeplessness were passed, yet he rose on Wednesday and went out several times to the garden. In the evening he became very ill and had a fainting fit, but managed after awhile to get upstairs, and, after remaining on the bedside for some time, propped up with pillows, he undressed, with little assistance and much deliberation, winding up his watch, with a cold, trembling hand,--"for the last time," he said.

The doctor arrived shortly afterwards, who found that he had broken a blood-vessel. The night was passed partly in peaceful sleep, and partly in converse with his children who were then present. His daughter says, "He was just full of his Saviour's love and mercy all through his life; he repeated many hymns and passages of Scripture."

On Thursday morning he was visited by Mr. Morley and two other friends, with whom he conversed. He also had his Testament, but finding he could not read it, his daughters read to him. He repeated many hymns, among them the Scotch version of the hundred and third Psalm, but stopped and said, "There is nothing like the original," which was then read from the Bible. His mother's favourite hymn, "Hail, sovereign Light," was also by his special desire read to him.

Another sleep--a wandering, perhaps unconscious, look at his children, a struggle, and then a quietness? and the pilgrimage was over, the spirit had fled to be present with the Lord whom he had loved so well and served so faithfully. "His end was peace."

He died on the 10th of August, 1883, in his eighty-eighth year.

The funeral took place a few days later at Norwood Cemetery, when, surrounded by such relatives as were in England, Sir Bartle Frere, Mr. Samuel Morley and several other Members of Parliament, deputations from the various Missionary and several Religious Societies, and by the Mayor of Bloemfontein, his remains were consigned to the tomb.

Never had a truer hero been borne to the grave, nor one more thoroughly worthy of the name of MAN.